Chapter 16 #2
He didn't make me wait. One strong arm hooked under my thigh and lifted, spreading me open against the rock.
The head of his cock nudged my entrance, thick and blunt, and then he pushed in with one long, relentless thrust. The stretch burned in the best way.
I was full, so full, and the pressure stole whatever breath I had left.
My head dropped to his shoulder. I bit down on the muscle there to keep from screaming.
Roman stayed buried deep for a second, breathing hard against my ear.
Then he pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in.
The force of it drove me up the rock face.
I clung to him, arms locked around his neck, legs wrapping tight around his waist. Every thrust was hard and deep.
He fucked me like he was trying to crawl inside my body and stay there.
I met every stroke, rolling my hips, grinding down when he was seated to the hilt. I couldn't stop the sounds pouring out of me, high and needy, begging without words. My nails raked down his back under his shirt. He growled and fucked me harder for it.
"That's it," he rasped. "Take it. Take every fucking inch."
I did. I took him until my thighs shook and my voice cracked.
The rock scraped lightly against my spine with every thrust, a reminder of where we were—outside, hidden only by darkness and stone, the ocean roaring just feet away.
Anyone walking the beach might hear us. The thought only made me wetter.
I clenched around him on purpose and felt him curse into my mouth.
He shifted the angle, lifting my other leg so both were hooked over his arms. The new position let him drive even deeper.
Stars burst behind my eyes. I was babbling now, half-coherent pleas and his name, over and over.
My body felt liquid, melting around him.
I kissed him messily, teeth and tongue, tasting salt and him.
He kissed back just as dirty, never slowing the brutal rhythm of his hips.
One of his hands slid between us and found my clit.
He rubbed tight circles in time with his thrusts.
The dual sensation short-circuited whatever was left of my thoughts.
Pleasure coiled low and tight, building fast. I was so close already, the drunk, desperate edge of it making everything feel inevitable.
I shattered with a broken cry that the waves almost swallowed.
My walls clamped down hard around his cock, pulsing, milking him.
The orgasm ripped through me in waves stronger than the ocean's, leaving me shaking and gasping against his chest. Roman didn't stop.
He fucked me through it, chasing his own release, the wet sound of my release coating him making everything filthier.
When the last tremor faded, I was still clinging to him like he was the only solid thing left.
My body felt oversensitive, every drag of his cock almost too much, but I didn't want him to stop.
I tightened my legs and whispered against his ear, voice hoarse, "Don't you dare finish yet. I want more."
A dark laugh vibrated through his chest. He pulled out suddenly.
I whimpered at the empty feeling. Before I could protest, he spun me around, pressing my chest to the cool rock.
My dress hung open, useless. He kicked my feet wider and slammed back into me from behind in one smooth thrust. The new angle hit differently—deeper, rougher.
I cried out, palms flat against the stone for balance.
Roman's hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise as he set a punishing pace.
Each thrust shoved me forward into the rock.
I pushed back to meet him, greedy for every inch.
The night air kissed the sweat on my skin.
My breasts swung with the force of his movements.
One of his hands slid up to cup one, squeezing, pinching the nipple until I moaned loud enough to be heard over the surf.
"You feel that?" he growled, leaning over my back so his chest blanketed me. "How wet you are for me out here? Anyone could walk by and see you taking my cock like you were made for it."
The words sent another rush of heat between my legs. I reached back blindly, fingers finding his thigh, digging in. "Harder," I begged. "Fuck me like you mean it."
He did. My second orgasm built slower this time, deeper, rolling up from where we were joined.
I was babbling again, half-sobbing his name, telling him how good it felt, how I never wanted it to end.
The alcohol stripped away any last shred of restraint.
I was pure need, pure want, grinding back onto him like the world really was ending at dawn.
Roman's breathing grew ragged. His thrusts turned erratic, deeper, almost brutal.
One hand slid down my stomach and found my clit again, rubbing fast and firm.
That was all it took. I came a third time with a broken scream, body locking up, walls fluttering around him.
He followed with a guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt and pulsing hot inside me.
I felt every spurt, every throb, and it only made the aftershocks stronger.
We stayed locked together for long seconds, both of us panting. Sweat cooled on my skin in the night air. Roman's forehead rested between my shoulder blades. His hands gentled on my hips, stroking slow circles as if to soothe the bruises he'd left.
When he finally eased out, I felt the warm trickle of him down my inner thigh.
I turned in his arms, still unsteady, and kissed him slow and deep, tasting the salt on his lips.
My body hummed, sated and still hungry all at once.
I looped my arms around his neck again and pressed close, not ready to let the night air fully separate us.
Eventually, reality intruded. The sea breeze had turned biting again, but I didn't feel the cold at all.
Roman lifted me down from the rocks and wrapped my trembling, naked body tightly in his oversized black linen shirt. Then he scooped me up into his arms, carrying me as carefully as if I were some priceless treasure.
I buried my face against his burning chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
"Close your eyes and rest," he said softly, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I'll get you home, Moya zhena."