Chapter 23 Unwrap You #2
The slight confident lift of his chin and tilt of his head as he slowly undoes every button on his shirt is a king’s decree, claiming me.
The soft sound of his clothes hitting the floor, a hunter’s whispered intentions. Only I don’t feel like his prey. I feel like his prize.
It’s only once he’s naked that he finally speaks, stepping up to the foot of the bed and asking the same question he did that first night, “Do you have any idea how stunningly beautiful you are?”
This time there is no hesitation or unsure response.
“Yes.”
A soft smile turns the corner of his lips and pride brightens his gaze.
“Good.” He climbs onto the bed and shoves my legs apart so he can kneel between them.
“So, you’ll understand why I won’t be able to go slow.
Having you all tied up and gift wrapped in my bed .
. . I can’t wait to fucking unwrap you.” And with that, he gives a hard tug to the end of each ribbon, collapsing the bow.
Just as ravenous as he promised, he dives down and squeezes one breast firmly with both hands and sucks on my nipple, laving his tongue in circles. I moan and press my chest up into him, but my limited mobility makes me huff in frustration.
He chuckles and looks up at me as he flicks his broad tongue over my rosy peak. “Frustrated, baby?”
“I want to touch you,” I protest desperately.
“So you’re frustrated that I can touch you all I want while you can’t lay one finger on me, not because I made you go all day wet and needy?
” As he says this, he starts at my knee and trails one hand up to just barely brush over my pussy.
Even with such a light touch, I feel him spread my juices up my slit.
“Both. . . ?” I whimper.
“Is that a question?” He teases my lips apart, making my whole body clench when his fingertips ghost over my clit.
Burning up inside, I push him, “I thought you weren’t going to go slow.”
I cry out sharply as he shocks me with a fiery slap to my breast still tingling from his mouth. He sits up and lays two more slaps to my inner thighs. They sting like hell, but I still find myself breathless and wanting more.
“Is that how you want it?” There’s a teasing quality to his low growl. “Hard and painful?”
“Yes . . . sir?” I said it without thinking at the Den, but it made something hot and carnal twist in my chest then. So, when I try it again, this time for real, it comes out more of a question.
That same pride lights up in his eyes. “You can call me sir. Does it make your pussy wet? Calling me that?”
“Yes,” I whisper, and he lightly lifts one brow. “Sir.”
“Good girl,” he whispers back in a soft but husky purr. “Always so fucking good for me, aren’t you?”
I nod, unable to respond verbally. I bite my lip as he slides his stiff cock over my pussy, pressing down on it so it drags heavily across my clit.
With his other hand, he squeezes my breast, then he pinches and tugs on the nipple. I suck in a sharp breath at the quick, biting pain.
“I love having you all to myself like this with nothing you can do about it. The perfect gift,” he mutters, then adds, “but you’re right.
It fucking hurts to go this slow. My favorite kind of torture, but—” I feel his cock nudge against my entrance.
“There’s only so much . . . a man can take.
” He groans roughly, punching all the way inside me.
“God, yes.” The cuffs rattle as I needily press my hips up to take him deeper.
“And you . . .” He wraps the ribbons around his fists, using them like a harness. “You always take me so well.”
His words are gruff and come out a little more strained with every stroke.
Microexpressions of pleasure twist into one constant face of rapture.
It’s spellbinding watching him lose himself inside me.
We haven’t talked much about his work, but I know he carries his responsibilities heavily.
But when we’re like this, it all just melts away. He sets down the mighty weight.
It makes me want to grab his face and kiss him within an inch of my life. A single kiss can tell someone so much, but without that option, I try mere words.
“Fuck, Roman, you feel so good.” Good? Why did I pick something so mundane when what he makes me feel is anything but?
When what I really mean is safe, cherished, happy.
“Happy. You make me so fucking happy.” It comes out like a plea, as if I’m begging for the right words to convey this mountain of emotion.
Somehow, he must get it, even with me lacking articulation, because his brows crumble together and he sighs deeply.
“Me too, sweet girl. You make me so damn happy.” He presses his lips to mine then, and my heart thunders with the chance to put everything I couldn’t phrase into the tangle of our lips and tongues.
I rock my hips up into him, and he groans against my mouth. “That’s it, plant your feet and arch your back, baby. Grind that sweet pussy on me.”
My clit rubs against the hard planes of his body, making him tighten his jaw and roughly exhale every time I clench around him.
“Oh god, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I stutter, keening. “Please, sir, let me come.” My stomach knots with the struggle to hold all the pleasure pulsing just under the surface, my muscles coiling in restraint.
“Of course.” He has the same desperate quality in his voice. “Be my good girl and make a mess on my cock. Come nice and hard for me, baby, and I’ll fill you up.”2
1. Play "Heaven Written"—Soldana until end of chapter
2. This scene, as you may have deduced, inspired the cover. So, of course, there is a NSFW version too. Check it out here.