12. Tessa
12
TESSA
A hard push against my mouth startled me. I was yanked straight out of my nightmare from the contact over my lips.
I jerked, sucking in a deep inhale through my nose. As I opened my eyes, my heart raced faster. My breaths became more labored. Stuck in this nightly loop of panic and terror, I wasn’t sure how much more I could handle.
Romeo’s face filled my view. The firm grip of his big hand held the back of my head as he kept us close together. His lips were smashed to mine, and with a click of awareness, of understanding that he was kissing me, the remnants of my nightmare fell apart. The darkness of reliving that night faded. Shards of the bad dream scattered, giving me full freedom to experience Romeo kissing me.
The act of waking up seemed to jar him, too, because as I returned the pressure, arching up to keep my lips locked against his, he reared back and breathed hard. His hot exhales feathered over my face as he lifted slightly. As he retreated, the force of air so close to my tear-stained cheeks clued me into how badly I was trapped in the depth of those nightmares.
They came every night. Some mornings, I felt more tired than when I went to bed. But never before had I been rescued from them.
My hero. Romeo was my savior in so many ways.
I gazed up at him in the darkness of the room, hoping he could see that truth in my eyes. Shadows fell over us both, but in the dimness of light, the quiet of the fading storm, it seemed like we truly were the only two people in the world.
“Romeo.” I couldn’t take this silence, this gnawing tension that pushed me to press my lips to his again.
The desperation in my plea was all it took. He growled, lowering until he brushed his mouth over mine again. Insistently. Hungrily. And with so much need. I felt the power in his soft lips parting mine, and as his tongue swept in to taste and explore my mouth, I tilted my head back, letting him show me.
Before he could take his lips from mine again, I lifted my hands and threaded my fingers through his thick, dark hair, so soft and silky, almost delicate, and in such contrast to the rest of him. He was all hard muscles and tight skin, strength and masculinity exuding from him. Beneath him, I felt small and sheltered, so treasured with his touch.
My heart hadn’t slowed. I strained to catch my breath without letting him raise his face from mine. Now, it was desire and affection that triggered me to gasp and whimper, to mewl and pant.
Ever so slowly, as he kissed me so thoroughly and lit the fire of wanton need within me, he dragged his hand down, from the back of my head toward my back, then snaking his arm under me. Getting closer, he dipped over me on the bed. He didn’t break the kiss. I didn’t protest at all. Not his tongue against mine, his lips pressing mine open. I wanted it all.
It was a stark, sharp difference that I clung to for the sake of my sanity and security. In my nightmare, the now-dead trio of men chased me and reached out for me. They grabbed my clothes, their fingers scraping against my flesh. They were the predators, targeting me like prey to violate and discard.
Not once did they come near my face. None of them had tried to kiss me.
But Romeo did.
I didn’t know why he was here. I wasn’t sure what encouraged him to kiss me while I was sleeping when during the day, he remained distant from me, too busy to make time for talking me out of my fearsome and low moments.
Romeo’s mouth remained on mine now, and while I felt so clueless, I clung to his display of affection and intimacy. No matter how hard and brutal his kisses were, like he was starving for me, I relished the grounding experience of knowing I was here with him, now. Not in the past brought to me via nightmares.
As he followed me onto the bed more fully, his knee pressed against mine. It was still tender, the deepest cut from when I tripped, and I hissed instinctively at the press.
He jerked back, breaking the kiss.
“Romeo, no,” I begged as he moved to get back and stand again.
“I—”
“Please,” I insisted, extending my hand up toward him.
He caught it and pressed a wet kiss to my palm. “I heard you crying and tried to wake you. That’s all.”
I nodded. “Nightmares of…”
“I figured.” Still, he backed up, letting my hand drop as he knelt back to get off the bed.
“No!” He was already standing, too quick for me to reach him, so I kneeled to get more on level with him. “Don’t go.”
“I won’t push you.”
“You already did.” I took hold of his hand and clutched it tightly. “You pushed me out of that nightmare.”
He sighed, looking away as I held his hand. “I did. But I won’t push any further.”
I tugged him closer, wishing he’d look me in the eye. “Then I will. I’ll push myself. Whatever you can give me, Romeo. To help me. You said you’d help me, remember?”
He gazed at me so seriously, I doubted I’d get through to him. “I don’t think you’re ready to be with a man, Tess. Not so soon, not… Not with me.”
Emboldened by the desire he’d stoked in me, I reached for his other hand and guided him to stand as close to the bed as he could. It seemed impulsive and rash, but I wanted to follow this thrill of him grounding me, of showing me, once and for all, that I truly wasn’t alone. Since we’d come here, I’d been so determined to stay out of his way. He had calls to handle and things to arrange. He was a busy man, and I hated how it seemed like I was a burden. An obligation.
With that kiss, he showed me that I might have misinterpreted him all along. That just maybe, he wanted me.
“Help me,” I begged. “Help me to forget it all. Keep the nightmares away and stay with me.” In a brave move, I brought his hand to my chest and kept it over where my heart beat so wildly for him. For more of his hard kisses and hungry eyes.
“Tess…” He sighed, exhaling long and hard. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“I do.” I kneeled closer to the edge of the bed, carried away with this frantic need for him. “I’m asking for you . For your help to forget what they did.”
“I can’t erase what they did,” he said softly as he lifted his other hand to cup my face.
At the firm stroke of his thumb over my cheek, I shivered. “I just want you to help me stop the memories. To show me how to forget about it for a moment. To help me shove it away.”
“How?” he asked, changing his mind as he kissed me. “Tell me what you want.”
I cherished the freedom, the example of having control.
“Can you kiss me again?”
He did, framing my face and urging me to loop my arms around him. After several moments of the heated slide of our lips against each other’s and the addictive taste of his tongue in my mouth, I struggled to stay upright on my knees. I’d been leaning into him to spare putting the weight on the still-healing scrapes, but we still weren’t close enough.
“Can you…” I frowned, pouting as he watched my face.
“What? What do you want?”
I didn’t know how to say it, caught in the strange dilemma of wanting him and feeling aroused but afraid to experience anything more.
“I’m…” I furrowed my brow, wishing he could read my mind. The sensations were too much to handle, and while I wanted to ask him to help me find relief, it was a huge step for me to take.
My pussy throbbed. My nipples felt so hard and achy. Aroused and slick with my juices, I felt… dirty, somehow.
“I was…” I winced. “I was a virgin before those men. And I don’t… I’ve never…”
He kissed me slowly and took my hand. Twisting so I held his fingers, he paused in his kisses long enough to whisper, “Show me. Show me what you want.”
I shivered and let his warm, hungry mouth distract me as I brought his hand to my pussy. Angled with my knees apart, I guided him to put his fingers over the achy spot where I felt so needy.
“You’re sure?” he checked.
“Please. I just want to forget it all.”
He wrapped his arm around me, and in a hug, he followed me down to the bed. Once his muscled form hovered over me, he reared back to pull his shirt off. Nervous, but swept away with this foreign and needy drug of lust, I arched my back to indicate that I wanted him to remove my shirt too.
“Kiss me,” I urged when he lowered his hands to remove my panties. As long as I had his lips on mine, I would know he wanted me and treasured this moment.
Together, we took each other’s garments off. Once his hot, naked body lay flush to mine, a stubborn intrigue prompted me to be braver yet, to go for what I wanted with this man who refused to push me into anything.
I tucked my hand between us as we made out, sloppy kisses and needy tongues and all. The second I slid my fingers down his chiseled abs and touched my fingertips to his hard dick, he tensed.
I pulled back. “Sorry?—”
“No.” He kissed me harder. “I like it, Tess. I’ve thought about you touching me every fucking minute of the day.”
His words filled me with determination and proof that this had to be right. That he had to be okay with my clumsy exploration.
“Touch me wherever you want. I’m yours, however you want me,” he said between presses of his lips on my neck.
“I want you here,” I told him as I stroked his hard shaft. Pushing my hips toward him, I hoped that he got the hint. I didn’t want to say it. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t risk making any connection to the last time someone had touched me there, and I wanted him to make this a new memory that I would keep forever.
“Like this?” He angled himself closer, rubbing his dick over my entrance. Each time he ground over me, putting pressure on my clit, I moaned and arched toward him.
“Yes. Please, Romeo. Help me.” I was determined to go for it, to shed the fear of my past. Lining him up to my pussy, I widened my legs and welcomed him in.
“Easy,” he cautioned, kissing me as he pushed lower and bore more of his weight on me. Slanting over me, he secured our hips together. “Slowly.”
I nodded as he pushed inside, just the tip. Already, the stretch was so intense, and I sucked in a sharp breath at the sensation of him opening me up.
He stopped, kissing me and bracing himself over me. Waiting. Teasing. His mouth was too masterful, too wicked for me to allow any fear into my mind, to permit any thought of anyone else to invade on this moment.
“More, Romeo. I want more.”
Inch by inch, he pushed into me, pulling out with every thrust. Back and forth, he worked his big, hard cock inside me with a gradual drive. Only once he was seated all the way in me did he groan and wait again, still and catching his breath.
“Are you all right?” he asked, kissing along my jaw and brushing my hair back from my face.
“I’m so full.” And the stretch, the fullness, and the pressure urged me to want him to move again.
“But are you all right?”
I shook my head and arched my back. “I need you to move. Please.”
His roguish smile was kind and gentle, and I locked onto the promise in his eyes. “Like this?” Thrusting in and out, he dragged his long length over my sensitive walls that sucked him in so hungrily.
“Oh, God. Yes. Romeo!” I cried out as he sped up, but he silenced me with his demanding lips covering mine again. His tongue slid into my mouth in sync with his dick easing into my pussy. Between both actions and the glorious weight of his powerful body rubbing against mine and pinning me to the mattress, I was urged closer and closer to coming.
My orgasm built swiftly, but strongly, and before I could realize what that increasing tension signified, I felt like a band had snapped. Like my nerves were fried and frazzled. Moaning into his mouth as he kissed me without pause, I savored the responding tension in him. He jerked into me harder, growling deeply. Despite the waves of pleasure that radiated from our union, I was still with it and cognizant of him jerking deep inside me, filling me with his hot cum.
“Fuck, Tess. Fuck me. Fuck.” He growled and cursed, almost seeming lost in his scattered thoughts and panted claims.
Holding him close, I caught my breath, too stunned and sated with that orgasm to try to speak. He rested his forehead on my temple, and eventually, he lessened the hold of his arms on the bed.
Crushing his weight to me, he blanketed me and completed the act of making me forget. All I could think of or feel was him. All I could relish was that he’d had sex with me and filled me so well. He had erased the ugliness of my nightmare, and now, on cloud nine and floating from the pleasure of coming with him, I wanted him to star in all my dreams of the future.
He rolled, hugging me so that I lay draped over him. Entwined and stuck together, we lay there until I was close to drifting off to sleep.
“Let me clean you up,” he said, gently urging me to move.
I was too sluggish and comfortable to register anything more than sliding over and snuggling back on the bed. He came back, wiping at me so softly and tenderly. Then when he climbed back onto the bed, I smiled and welcomed his arms wrapping around me, content to lie in his hold in case any bad dreams dared to return.