40. Waverly
CHAPTER 40
WAVERLY
And I am. All his.
I nervously bite my lip as he navigates us to the deck; the place we first saw each other after two years of no contact; where we shared deep conversations about life while Patrick was inside with his parents, we shared stolen moments filled with lingering looks, and deep breaths.
He glances back at our adjoined hands and up at me. His hair’s fallen over his forehead and his face shines with a smile so bright, I swear he’s the sun.
The door quietly opens to the outside before Roman guides me out by the small of my back—his touch searing my skin. A mixture of night air and his cologne invade my space, causing me to feel heady and aroused.
My feet seem to be drifting along a cloud as he perches on the cushioned swing. It’s as if I’m floating. I’m not sure what he has up his sleeve, but I know I will follow him to the ends of the Earth.
“Come here.” Roman pulls me over to him, setting me down so that I straddle his lap. His hands cup my cheeks, and the moonlight bounces off the moisture in his eyes.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited for all of the stars to align, Waverly?” Entranced by his handsomeness and vulnerability, I feel a shiver run through me. This is the feeling. This is the feeling love is supposed to give you. It’s not supposed to be easy. It’s supposed to be intense. All-consuming. Irrevocable.
“I’ve been yearning for the days where you could openly be mine. Where you and I would fall into place.”
“Am I? Yours, I mean.”
He drops his hands and wraps them around my waist like a warm blanket, pulling me into him. “On some level, you always have been,” he whispers, our faces inches apart. “And I’ve always been yours.” His hands slowly move to my neck, and he pulls me toward him. A light breeze ruffling the trees around us. It’s magical.
Now with only our mingling breaths between us, I hesitate. This is it. I’ve been waiting to kiss him again, but he doesn’t give me time. I take in his scent, matching my breath with his. Roman doesn’t wait. His lips collide into mine, and its familiar feeling floods me. When we’re together, it feels like my soul is home.
With our rapid breaths in sync, we lock eyes, unspoken words exchanged. Words of forever.
“Make love to me, Roman,” I say, feeling like a breathless girl of eighteen. His closeness induces a hormonal high.
Roman’s eyes widen and sparkle. “Now? We can move into?—”
“Right here.” I look around us. “The exact place where we’ve had every deep conversation about life. About us .” I run my hand from his shoulders to his neck, resting them on his sensitive skin, “Where I saw you again after all those years of not talking. It’s like time stands still with you.”
He nods, licking his lips. “This is going to change everything, Waverly. You’re mine.”
His chest heaves as if he choked back a sob and my eyes well with tears.
He pulls me into another kiss, this one more urgent. Like we’ll run out of time, or as if Patrick will come back from the dead. Again.
I don’t want to stop the kiss, but I have to tell him. These feelings are pretty damn intense. “I never want you to let me go, Rome.”
Roman lets out a groan underneath me and wraps his fist into my hair, pulling me closer, slowing the kiss. I ache for him, for his hands on me, and to finally know what it’s like to be his girl. Something that I never allowed myself to think about.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” he says between kisses.“Once we do this, we can’t back away. Not anymore.”
I nod. “I don’t want to. You’re stuck with me.”
The length of him pushes against me, creating a pulsing between my legs. I lean back slightly so that I can unbutton and unzip his pants, not wanting to waste another minute.
He springs free, hard and ready. Our eyes never deviate from one another’s as he bunches my dress around my hips, painfully slow. A smirk tilts up his freshly kissed lips. It’s obvious he’s enjoying the slow torture. A man who loves the chase and the catch. I’m here for it.
“Rome… I’m going to explode here,” I pant, almost unable to catch my breath. “Please.”
“Mmm. I like when you beg me, Kensi. It’s cute that you think it’ll work.” He winks and I let out a gasp.
I think I just came from that wink alone.
“Contain yourself, my girl. We have all night,” he teases, stroking his thumb over my soaked lace, as the arousal shoots through me and my body heats.
My girl. Swoon!
I look down and see a pearl-size drop at the tip of his shaft. Two can play at this game, Roman Huxley. You want to tease me? I’ll tease you back.
Bringing my thumb over his tip, I use the precum as lube, dragging it down the underside of his dick and his eyes fly shut, letting out a low groan. Mmm, that sound makes me feral for him.
His words ring in my head. “ Once we do this, we can’t back away. Not anymore.”
With slow, agonizing intention, I shove my panties to the side and line him up with my entrance.
“Right there,” he rasps. I lower myself onto him, and both of us let out low, guttural moans. He drapes his mouth over mine, drowning the end of the noise with his kiss, and his mouth throbs with a passionate message—meant o nly for me.
The feeling of bliss ruptures against my skin, forming goosebumps as his fingertips gently skate down my spine as I move up and down. “Holy hell, Waverly. I can’t believe this is what I was missing out on all this time.”
His words fuel me—making me feel like I’m a diamond in a dark cave we’ve both been dwelling in for far too long. “Roman.” My head falls back in pure pleasure, and my hair tickles my back, triggering extra senses.
“Hold on for me, baby,” he whispers as I feel myself tilting back. With the help of his legs, the swing starts moving back and forth, intensifying the push and pull of our bodies. His thumb finds my clit and starts teasing with circular motions.
Sweat lines his forehead as he groans from his own pleasure underneath me. “Jesus?—”
I fall forward, nuzzling my face in his neck and peppering kisses to his jaw. His hand wraps in my hair, the pace of his thumb speeds up, as does my rocking.
“Promise me that you’ll look at me when you come.” Roman pulls my hair, parting my lips from his skin. “I want to watch your face. I want to see what I’ve been dying to see all these years.”
I ask breathlessly, “What would that be?” Our bodies intuitively start writhing together as the swing keeps moving back and forth.
He’s right. The only time I’ve come undone for him was facing a window. I was on display for the world to see, but not him.
“You unraveling just for me. ” The last few words come out a low growl. His lips part and his eyes slam shut before he fights to hold them open.
“I’m—”
“Look at me, Rome,” I parrot his request. Resting my hands on his lower neck, we start pushing to the brink of no return. Roman starts grunting and pulsing inside of me, and I follow him over the edge, trying to hold onto my promise. His chocolate eyes are glassy and he lets out a breath, lost in a place there’s no coming back from. He holds me tight as I ride out my orgasm to the bitter end. Soaking every last ounce of that wave, I lean down and gently rest a kiss on his lips. A light chuckle escapes him, and he pulls me against his chest, still inside of me. We wait until the quickness of our pulses quiet as we welcome a calming wind hitting against the trees.
Silence. Bliss. The point of no return.
Despite what has just transpired between us, a passionate fluttering arises at the back on my neck where his fingers lightly dance over my skin.
Roman whispers into my hair, “I love you, Waverly. I always have.”
As if his words release me, tears stream down my cheeks. “And I love you, Rome. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anybody.”
A lazy smile crosses his face. One of pure calmness and contentment.