Chapter 35
Palmer
My heart raced so fast, it felt like it might climb out of my chest and get lost in Roman’s gaze. He wasn’t my first, but it had been a long time and I had never felt anything like this—as if I were on the edge of a fall I could never come back from.
Roman’s eyes seared into mine, as if he were memorizing every minute detail of me.
I pressed my lips together when his hand moved to the buttons of my pajama shirt, but he hesitated.
When I didn’t stop him, he flicked open the bottom one.
His deft fingers worked slowly, as if forcing patience on himself.
I panted as an overwhelming wave of heat bloomed beneath my skin. Roman had barely touched me and already every nerve was awake, hypersensitive in the best way.
His knuckles brushed my stomach as he worked the next button free, and the small, accidental contact made my abdominals tighten. My fingers fisted into the sheets beneath me by instinct. A spike of pain shot through my palms from the burns that were still healing, but it hardly registered.
A wave of confusion washed over me as Roman suddenly stilled. A flicker of awareness crossed his face, and he removed one hand from my shirt and held it out to me.
“Give me your wrists,” he instructed.
A frown tugged at my mouth, but I obeyed. Both of mine fit easily in his one large palm. He carefully raised my hands over my head, and pressed my wrists into the pillows until my knuckles skimmed the headboard.
His eyes flashed. “I want you to keep your hands here.”
My brows pulled together, confusion surfacing.
“They are injured,” he said, voice gruff. “Keep them right here.” He pushed down like he was trying to fasten them above my head. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”
My body ignited at the slightest hint of danger, a thrill coursing through me like electricity. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Yes,” I said, entirely too eager.
A dark, sultry smile ghosted his lips.
God. This man was going to ruin me, and I was going to relish every second of it.
“Good.”
I sucked in my bottom lip. I had never been so turned on in my entire life.
Roman let my wrists go. I instantly missed the pressure, but I didn’t move.
He finally returned to the buttons on my top.
When he reached the final one, he paused. Controlled desire flickered in his gaze before he pulled the fabric of my shirt open.
Cool air brushed over my skin, sending a scatter of goose bumps racing across my chest and down my arms. I shivered despite the warmth building inside me.
A low sound rumbled from him—something between a groan and a growl—and the raw approval in it made my stomach flip.
“So goddamn beautiful,” he murmured.
Roman’s hand slid over my stomach; the roughness of his callouses sent tingles across my body. I arched into his touch as his fingers traveled upward, lingering on the soft contours of my chest. He teased me, skimming the sensitive peaks.
It felt so good. Shockingly good. He knew exactly how to tighten the coil of tension inside me.
A quiet hum rumbled from Roman’s chest at the sounds slipping from my throat, but I couldn’t stop them even if I wanted to. Keeping my hands pinned above my head suddenly felt like the hardest thing I’d ever done. Every instinct screamed at me to reach for him—to pull him closer.
I didn’t move.
His mouth replaced his fingers, and I gasped. The sensation sent sparks racing through my nerves, leaving me dizzy and writhing.
All I could think about was how badly I wanted him closer.
“So receptive,” Roman purred.
I blinked down at him, my breath catching. Lust burned in his dark eyes, hot and unmistakable.
A small whimper escaped me as I bowed toward him, chasing the warmth of his mouth.
His lips trailed downward, leaving a slow path of warmth in the wake of his soft kisses from my chest to my stomach. Each one sent another shiver through me as anticipation twisted tighter.
When his thumbs hooked into the waistband of my bottoms, I went rigid.
I desperately wanted him to remove them, but a sudden terror gripped me at the thought of what he might see.
Roman seemed to sense my hesitation immediately. He stilled and lifted his head, his gaze searching my face.
I looked away.
His hand firmly caught my chin and guided my face back toward him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle and laced with concern.
This was Roman. He had already earned my trust. Nothing bad would happen with him.
As the weight of my fears pressed down on me, I fought them. I could do this. I wanted this.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I nodded.
He dipped his head closer. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
Cautiously, his hands returned to my waistband. Slow and deliberate, he slid the fabric down, inch by inch. His fingers brushed along my hips as he worked them lower, and I inhaled sharply when my bare thighs were exposed.
I had more scars there—uneven reminders of a night that changed everything. The instinct to shrink away hit me, but Roman didn’t falter.
His expression didn’t change as he continued to lower the fabric until it slipped past my knees and finally reached my ankles. Then he tossed the clothing aside without another thought and settled between my legs.
His eyes roamed over me.
I was suddenly very aware of how bare I was, wearing nothing but my panties and the thin fabric of my open shirt.
Heat rushed to my face as I pressed my thighs together without thinking.
Roman growled in disapproval. “No more hiding, Palmer.” He grabbed my knees and pulled them apart, spreading them wide. “I get to see all of you now.”
His fingers traced over the scars along my calves. The touch was unhurried, almost reverent.
“I get to worship this body,” he continued, his voice raw with emotion, “until you never want to hide the most stunning, resilient parts of yourself.”
I closed my eyes, taking his words in.
Beautiful.
Stunning.
Resilient.
They were never words I’d attributed to myself. Not once, in all the years I’d spent hiding and making myself small, did I ever consider that I was anything but a burden. Doing everything I could to get any scrap of care or love, even back before the fire ever touched me.
But I took them from him now, accepted them like a gift. I let the words nestle inside my soul and patch up holes from wounds that had long been festering.
When Roman’s hands touched my hips, fingers slipping under the lace of my panties, my eyes flew open. Before I realized it, the last barrier of fabric was gone, discarded somewhere on the floor. Roman froze, drinking in the sight of me.
His gaze was so heavy, so fervid with awe, that I almost glanced away. He looked at me like I was something sacred. It was almost too much, but I forced myself to witness it.
I let him look. I let him see everything. And instead of shame, something unexpected bloomed inside my chest. Power.
For the first time in my life, I felt like someone who deserved being taken care of. Someone precious and important.
Then, his expression changed.
He seemed almost feral, like something dark and powerful kneeling before me—some fallen angel brought to his knees.
“I want to give you pleasure, Palmer.” His voice was rough with intent. “Until you’re glowing.”
My pulse was wild as he lowered his head, his hands steady on my hips.
The first brush of his lips on my skin ignited a thrill that coursed through me.
He lingered there, pressing slow kisses along my thigh, careful and venerating even over the scars that had once made me feel broken. Each touch spread warmth through my body, anticipation curling tighter and tighter.
When his attention shifted toward my center, the first stroke of his tongue had me trembling.
My head tipped back against the pillows as a startled sound escaped me.
No one had ever done this for me before, and I lost all sense of myself as I instinctively reached for him. My fingers slid into his thick hair, clinging to the only anchor I could find. The motion pulled the tender skin of my healing burns.
“Hands back up,” Roman ordered without drawing back.
The vibrations and low command of his voice sent a sharp thrill through me. I whimpered, reluctant to let go.
“Now.”
I made a small, disgruntled sound but forced my wrists back above my head.
Roman hummed with approval, and I panted, needing more.
The steady rhythm of his attention continued, each subtle movement drawing me higher and higher until the tension inside me felt almost unbearable.
“Oh my God…” I breathed.
“That’s it,” Roman murmured.
My head spun as I lost my grip on everything. I rolled my hips, but his hands pinned them in place, holding me steady against the mattress.
“Come undone for me, Golden.”
Something inside my chest snapped loose all at once as the sensations crashed through me. “Roman—” His name left my lips on a broken gasp.
My back bowed off the mattress, my wrists pressing into the pillows above my head as the intensity rolled through me. Every nerve was alive, every inch of my skin vibrating as if I’d been set alight from the inside out.
“That’s it,” he repeated, his voice low and satisfied. “Just like that.”
I barely heard him over the rush of blood in my ears. My chest rose and fell as I struggled to orient myself, the last ripples fading slowly through my body.
For a moment, I was weightless, like the world had tilted off its axis.
Eventually, the haze began to clear. My eyes fluttered open—I hadn’t realized I’d closed them—and the first thing I saw was Roman watching me.
He seemed stunned, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d seen.
“You okay?” he asked.
My voice was unsteady when I answered. “Yeah.”
I was more than okay. I had never experienced anything like that before.
Roman traced a path up my body, his warm hands gliding along my sides as he moved. “You’re incredible.”
My stomach tumbled, and I reached for him. My hands slid down into his hair, pulling him closer until his mouth was on mine.