8. Freya
8
FREYA
I can’t believe this is really happening. It feels like I’ve stumbled into a dream. I’m sprawled on Roman’s couch, topless, his gigantic frame bearing down on me as he sucks my nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, sending shivers of pleasure up my spine as he worships my breasts.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he releases my nipple, pressing feathery kisses down my belly until he’s blocked by the waistband of my jeans. With an impatient growl, he yanks them off me, throwing them to the floor until I’m wearing nothing but my panties. I can feel wetness pooling between my legs, and there’s a fierce desperation in Roman’s eyes as he presses his hand to the soaking fabric, cupping my mound. I gasp at the contact.
“So wet for me.” His voice is hoarse, like he’s struggling to contain himself. “I need to taste you, Freya.”
My clit throbs with anticipation, my whole body trembling as Roman tugs down my panties. A whimper escapes my lips. Nobody has ever seen me naked before, but Roman is staring at me reverentially, like I’m a work of art. My heart is hammering, but despite my nerves, I feel safe beneath his gaze. It feels so right to be lying beneath him, the fire warming my naked skin as Roman runs his hands over me.
“You’re fucking perfection,” he groans. “Your curves have been driving me crazy.”
It’s not like me to be this quiet, but I’m too overwhelmed to speak. I’ve never done this before. Everything is happening so fast, but I want it more than anything.
“You okay, beautiful?”
Roman is looking at me with concern, his hand brushing my cheek. Those pine-green eyes pierce mine, and I nod up at him, my mouth dry.
“I’m okay,” I tell him. “This is just…all new to me. Nobody has ever seen me like this.”
Roman makes a noise deep in his throat and bends down to kiss me, his beard brushing my face. He tastes like apple cider, his lips gentle against mine before he pulls back to look at me. “This is new to me too, Freya. But I’m the luckiest man in the whole damn world to get to see you naked. Your curves are fucking divine.”
His intensity makes me quiver with need. I’ve never felt desirable before—not like this. My confidence grows as Roman kisses down my body, all the way to my dripping core. He pushes my legs farther apart, his face drawing closer to my most intimate spot. I can feel his breath, warm and rapid against my clit, and suddenly, I feel his tongue flick against it. I shiver, tipping my head back as he swipes his tongue down to my gushing hole.
“OH!”
My legs tremble as I feel Roman’s tongue push inside me, fucking me, overwhelming me. He moans against my core, devouring me like he can’t get enough..
“God, yes!” I cry as Roman starts to rub my clit, filling me with his tongue until I see stars. I grab roughly at his hair, my eyes rolling back. It’s the most intense pleasure I’ve ever experienced. His powerful arms pin me down as he claims me as his own, my growing moans spurring him on. He slides his tongue back up to my clit and sucks it hard before pushing two thick fingers inside me, stretching my walls tight around him. His fingers thrust deeper, moving in and out in a frantic rhythm, and I feel myself coming undone.
“ROMAN!”
His name is all I can think of as pure pleasure zips through me, my whole body spasming as I come hard. My clit throbs with my release, painfully sensitive, but Roman keeps sucking, wringing out every wave of pleasure until I’m breathless.
When he finally pulls away to look at me, his beard is glistening in the firelight, wet with my juices. Hungrily, he sucks his fingers dry, pressing a kiss on my inner thigh.
“You taste so damn sweet,” he says, pulling me onto his lap. I make a noise, still unable to produce actual words as I shiver through the final aftershocks of my orgasm. Roman holds me tight, stroking my hair. “Good girl. Fuck, you were so amazing.”
His words make me melt against him, my breathing slowly returning to normal. I can feel his erection pushing against me through his jeans, thick and hard, but Roman doesn’t make a move to take off his clothes. He tightens his arms around me and I breathe in his masculine scent, listening to the crackle of the fire and the thump of Roman’s heartbeat.
“That was perfect,” I tell him with a contented sigh. “You could probably tie cherry knots with your tongue.”
He laughs. “I don’t know about that, sugar.”
I readjust myself on his lap, and his laugh turns to a stifled groan, his cock hard as stone against me.
“Isn’t it my turn to make you feel good?” I ask, blushing with pleasure at the effect I’m having on him.
Roman lets out a hiss of breath, muttering a curse word as he kisses my neck softly. “For now, just let me hold you.” He looks almost pained, but when I catch his eye, he smooths his face into a small smile and pulls a blanket over us. I let myself be enveloped by those strong, brawny arms, feeling tiny as I’m held in the embrace of such a giant man. But it feels good. Safe and secure, like nothing could ever hurt me as long as I’m in his arms.
As we lie there, our hearts beating in time, I think back to what Roman said about pushing down his emotions. I remember his flashback, the far off look in his eyes, but knowing this man is damaged doesn’t push me away—it only makes me want him more. He’s a good person, a brave man who suffered while serving others, and I’m falling for him faster than I want to admit. This isn’t just a quick fling for me. My heart is already on the line, and now all I can do is hope that Roman feels the same way.
“I was right. This is definitely the best pumpkin pie ever.”
Roman smiles at me. “Whoever mixed it up did a great job.”
“Thanks. Pretty sure you saved it, though. Otherwise, we’d be eating mouthfuls of cinnamon and eggshell.”
He laughs, a deep throaty sound that makes my stomach squeeze. We’re sitting at the table, finally tucking into the pie after hours of leaving it to cool. It’s sweet and creamy with a hint of warm spices, and Roman immediately cuts us another slice each. Our time together is passing so quickly, but I’m loving every minute of it.
After Roman did all those incredible things with his tongue, we cuddled on the couch until I eventually put my clothes back on. Then he let me decide what I wanted to do. He said I could choose anything, so I made him watch Hocus Pocus with me, which I think he secretly loved. Now our pumpkins are ready to be carved into jack-o’-lanterns, and I can’t wait to get started.
But despite the fun we’re having, Roman is holding something back. The tension between us has been palpable ever since he made me come, and I’m so darn ready to go all the way. An intense ache is growing between my legs, and all through the movie, it was hard not to notice Roman’s erection poking against my lap. He wants it too. At least, his body does. But mentally, there’s something stopping him, and I don’t want to ruin this amazing day by asking what it is. Part of me is scared to know.
Maybe he only wants me physically, not emotionally?
Maybe, after spending a day with me, he thinks I’m too much for him after all…
I’ve been pushing down these miserable thoughts, determined to make the best of things, but there are moments when my smile feels strained.
“Ready to carve some pumpkins?” Roman asks once he’s cleared away our plates.
“I’m always ready to carve pumpkins!”
I roll my sleeves up and he does the same, watching me from across the table. He presses his palms against the tabletop and leans forward to kiss me. I let myself melt against his lips, tasting pumpkin pie on his tongue as he slides it into my mouth. His hand cups my cheek, and when he pulls away, there’s so much warmth in his eyes that I feel my doubts vanish for a moment.
“How about we make it a competition?” I suggest with a smile. “Best jack-o’-lantern wins.”
Roman raises an eyebrow. “How are we going to judge whose is best?”
I shrug. “We’ll just have to decide between ourselves. I promise to be objective!”
“Alright, sugar. You got yourself a competition.”
We attempt a solemn handshake, but I can’t suppress a giggle, and Roman smiles at me. He lays a cloth over the table, hands me a knife and a pen, and then we get to work.
Once I’ve drawn out my design, I begin cutting into the pumpkin, scooping out the stringy insides and tracing my pen marks with the knife. Roman and I shoot sneaky glances at each other as we work, and he makes a show of pretending to look at my jack-o’-lantern, craning his neck for a peek until I throw a chunk of pumpkin at him.
“Disqualification,” he says, pointing at me. “You’re disqualified for violence toward your fellow contestant. Only way you can stay in the competition is if you come over here and kiss me right now.”
The competition is put on hold while I circle the table and rise up on my tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss on Roman’s lips. He gives me one of his small smiles, eyes twinkling as he lets me go back to my pumpkin.
“Finished!” I say after a few more minutes, washing the juice off my hands.
“Me too.”
I turn my pumpkin around and join Roman on his side of the table, inspecting the finished products. Immediately, I snort. My pumpkin has a wide grin and cute cartoon eyes, smiling up at us benignly. Roman’s is the grumpiest-looking pumpkin I’ve ever seen, with a down-turned mouth and frowning eyebrows.
“Yours is better,” we say at the same time.
“Draw?” Roman suggests.
“Draw.”
We put tea lights in our jack-o’-lanterns and set them on the nearest windowsill, where their carved faces flicker spookily at us. The sky outside the window is darkening fast, and as nighttime approaches, the tension between me and Roman is growing.
Does he want me to stay the night?
Or is he waiting for me to go home?
My worries from before are rushing back with a vengeance, and as I sit on the couch, watching Roman carry two mugs of cocoa toward me, I know I can’t keep them in any longer.
“Today has been amazing,” I say as he passes me a steaming mug and sits beside me.
“It sure has.” He sips his cocoa, his other hand stroking my plum-colored hair. “I love being with you, sugar.”
He looks so handsome, his deep green eyes fixed on me, the silvery hairs of his beard glistening in the firelight. I swallow hard and meet his gaze as I finally pluck up the courage to say, “But you’re holding something back. I can feel it.”
Roman blinks at me, frowning slightly. He lowers his mug, setting it down on the coffee table with a sigh that makes my throat tighten. I’m scared to hear what he’s about to say.
“You’re right, Freya.” He looks down at the fire, running a hand through his hair.
“Is it…is it because you’re not into me?”
His eyes snap up to meet mine, his face slack with shock like I just slapped him. He reaches for me, forcing me to look at him as he says, “Freya, I’m fucking nuts about you. Have been since the minute I saw you.”
My heart flutters, the tightness in my chest easing slightly as I ask, “So what is it, then?”
He shakes his head, still cupping my cheeks. “You’re perfect, Freya. You’re beautiful, sweet as hell…and I’m a middle-aged man with a shit ton of baggage and a mental health problem that I can’t shake. You deserve better than me. That’s why I’ve been holding back. I want you so fucking badly, you have no idea. But I don’t want you to be stuck with a grumpy, broken old guy like me.”
His words tug at my heart, and I see the pain in his eyes, the internal battle raging in them. I tilt my chin at him defiantly, my voice firm. “That’s not how I see you, Roman. I think you’re brave and strong, and I want you just as you are.” I wrap my arms around his neck, our faces close enough to touch. “Don’t you remember what you said to me earlier?”
He shakes his head, waiting for me to go on.
“You said, ‘if someone can’t handle all of you, they don’t deserve any of you’. And that applies to you too. I want all of you, Roman, including the broken parts.”
He lets out a shuddering sigh and closes his eyes, resting his forehead against mine. “I still think you’re too good for me. But there’s no way I can let you go. I feel like I’ve known you forever, like I was meant to meet you in that corn maze…”
I nod, my pulse fluttering. “I feel it too. From the moment we met, I just knew there was something…”
“Something special,” Roman finishes. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me tight against his broad chest. “You’re all I want, Freya. I’m so sorry I made you doubt that.”
I smile at him, pure happiness warming my veins, melting all my doubts to nothing. “I forgive you, Roman. But no more holding back, okay?”
“No more holding back. Ever.” He lifts my hands to his mouth and kisses them softly. “I swear I’ll never give you a reason to doubt my feelings again.”
As if to seal his promise, he leans in and captures my lips between his own. It’s a searing kiss that takes my breath away, full of fierce emotions and feelings that go deeper than words. I kiss him back urgently, my heart swelling with happiness. I’ve finally found the man of my dreams—and now I want him to make me his in the most intimate way possible. He lifts me up into his arms, our cocoa sitting forgotten on the coffee table as he carries me toward his bedroom, his eyes blazing with a fire that warms me all over.
“Let me show you how much I want you,” he says, shouldering open the door to reveal a giant four-poster bed. “I hope you’re ready for me, because we’re not leaving this room until you scream my name.”
My whole body shivers, quivering with anticipation as Roman pushes me onto the bed.
“I’m ready,” I tell him breathlessly.
So damn ready.