Chapter 25 Roman #2
I wonder how long I can play with her. How many strokes of my fingers until she’s a sobbing mess, her thighs slick with arousal and her mind crazed.
She is pure gold. Wild and free. I’ve dreamed about the sight before me. Lola, spread out on my bed, not a scrap of clothing on her fine body. I never thought I’d get to have her like this, and I want to savor the moment. Draw it out. Tease her.
I move down to the bottom of the bed and start at her ankles. Her toes curl when I trail a finger over the sole of her foot.
“Nuh uh.” I shake my head. “No moving, Lola.”
Her speckled eyes, molten with heat, find mine. “It tickles.”
I suppress a smile and draw my finger up to and over the delicate silver chain hanging loosely around her ankle.
I remember the first time she wore it. She came out of the sea, in some skimpy bikini, surfboard tucked under her arm and the silver anklet glittering against the sun.
She looked like a fucking mermaid that day and I went to bed feeling like a perv of the highest order for fantasizing about my best friend’s seventeen-year-old sister.
Longest summer of my life.
I keep going, running my knuckles up the inside of her thigh. I’m millimeters from her soft cunt when more black ink catches my eye. I stop and a tortured sigh escapes Lola’s lips.
“Roman…” she moans.
I tsk. “Shh, you’re being good remember?”
She bites her lip and I smudge my thumb over the small tattoo nestled just next to her bikini line.
It’s an outline of a mountain range, a tiny full moon hovering over the thin, jagged lines.
It hits me again then, how much of her life I’ve missed.
How, when all I’ve ever wanted is to make a home here in Pine Rock, Lola wanted to get as far away from this town as possible.
Away from me.
“Tell me about this one,” I say, fueled by a sudden, desperate need to know every place she went, every little thing she did.
“Oh, I can talk now?”
I pinch her hip. “Brat.”
“I got it before I climbed Mount Fuji.”
“Not after?”
She shrugs against the sheets. “I could hardly give up halfway if it was forever inked onto my skin.”
I shake my head on a laugh. Trust Lola to get a tattoo so she can’t back out of a challenge most people wouldn’t ever consider. “You’re incredible. You know that, right?”
Her teeth dig into her lower lip, making them flush a deep pink. “You’re one of the few who seem to think so.”
I give up on mapping her body and move so I’m holding myself up above her, my face level with hers. “I do think that. And I’m going to keep telling you until you start to believe it.”
My gaze scans over her naked form. “You got any more tattoos firebird?”
“A few.”
“Show me.”
Her eyes glint. “That would involve moving and I’m not allowed to do that.”
I smirk at the sass she manages to achieve even when she’s following my rules. “You have my permission.”
She raises up onto her elbows and rolls onto her side. She gathers her hair in her hand and lifts it off her neck and raises her other arm above her head.
It takes me a second to realize what I’m looking at but when I do, awe sweeps over me.
“I wanted something a little more subtle than the black,” she explains.
Lola’s entire side and the back of her neck are covered in white ink tattoos.
They’re so faint I hadn’t noticed them before but now, with the golden light falling from the cast iron shade above my bed, the designs shimmer against her skin.
I run my knuckles over the dip of her waist and up her ribcage, dozens of tiny pictures nestled among outlines of different countries. A day of the dead mask next to Mexico. A blossom tree through Japan.
“They’re memories,” Lola says. “Of all the places I’ve been, the cultures I’ve been privileged enough to have shared in.”
I trace the designs with my fingertip. “They’re stunning,” I say. “You’re stunning.” I dip my head to her neck and press gentle kisses against her skin, my lips catching the edge of Italy.
Lola lets out a satisfied sigh that goes straight to my dick and I can’t take it anymore. My need to be inside her outweighs my desire to know what I missed while she traveled.
I drop my hands to her hips and flip her over on to her back.
She squeals, her hands coming up to grip my shoulders, but I just quirk a brow. “Remember your rules?”
Lola lowers her hands to the bed, pressing her palms flat against the sheets once more.
“Good girl.” I run my hand over her stomach and up to her breast, thumbing her nipple as my knuckles brush the writing inked on her skin.
Lola presses her lips together, trying not to make a sound as her chest rises under my touch.
I’m not kidding myself, Lola can’t be tamed and I sure as fuck don’t want her to be. I like Lola wild and bratty but there’s something about seeing her lie here for me, choosing to follow my rules, that has me hard as rock.
I straighten up just long enough to discard my trousers and boxers then I’m back over her in an instant, my cock straining to be inside of her. I force myself to go slow though and sink two fingers into her slick heat, making sure she’s ready for me.
I groan at the liquid silk I find there. “Jesus Lola, look at you, so fucking needy for me you’re practically dripping.”
A tortured moan slips from her closed lips, but she remembers the rules and doesn’t say a word.
I take my fingers out and drag the head of my cock through her folds, nudging at her clit and using her arousal to coat my hard length before I line myself up.
The past week with Lola has been a tangle of limbs and rough kisses. A build up from six years of longing. Now I’ve got her here, in my bed, I want to take my time.
I sink into her slowly, making sure she feels every inch of me as I bottom out inside her tight cunt.
Lola’s mouth rounds and her fingers curl around the bed sheets.
She feels like golden heaven and sweat breaks across my brows as I hold myself still inside of her. When her hips shift, demanding more, I shake my head and pull out to the tip. “No moving, remember?”
A cute little crease appears on Lola’s forehead, but she goes still and softens beneath me.
I hum. “Better.” I slide back in as a reward and her eyes roll back. My spine tingles, the muscles in my shoulders tensing. As much as I want to drive into her hard and fast, I’ve got a point to prove.
I draw out almost all the way again, shuddering as her inner walls cling to me.
I build a steady, torturous rhythm that has Lola’s neck arching and her pupils dilating.
“That’s it,” I murmur. “You just lie there and take my cock like a good girl.” Her cunt tightens around me at my words and pleasure ripples up my spine.
My muscles tense as I hold myself up above her, each long, deep stroke drawing us both closer to the edge.
Lola’s soft brown eyes go glassy, our choppy breaths coalescing.
I bring the pad of my thumb to her clit, rolling circles on the hardened nub until Lola’s clenching around me.
She opens her mouth on a gasp and her gaze finds mine, desperate and pleading.
I rock my hips. “Something you want to say, Firebird?”
“Oh god, I need to come, Roman.”
“Uh huh, and what do you need if you want to come?” I ask, sinking in deep.
Her head tilts back on the pillows and her words come out on another gasp. “Your permission. Please, Roman. Please let me come.”
I smirk and dip my head to hers, pressing a kiss to her lips. “See, told you, you could be a good girl.”
I stop holding back and pick up the pace, still keeping my thrusts long but adding the extra friction both of us need to reach a climax. I adjust my angle and press down hard on her clit. “Come for me, Firebird.”
Lola’s mouth opens on a silent scream, her cunt squeezing my cock. The little flutters that follow are all it takes to have me joining her.
I bury myself deep as I spill my release, satisfaction humming through me. I like knowing that I’m inside of her, marking her up like the tattoos on her skin. It may have taken us six years to get here but I want to stay like this forever.
I will prove to Lola over and over again that she is so much more than she thinks.
She is everything.
After I’ve cleaned us both up, I climb into bed with her and pull her across my body. She snuggles up to me, resting her cheek on my chest and gazing up at the vines woven between the wooden beams above my bed. “You’ve got so many plants, it’s like a forest in here.”
“Too many?”
“No. I like it.”
I twirl one of her purple locks around my finger.
“I’m sorry I told your dad about your degree,” I say. “That was yours to tell.”
Lola traces patterns on my ribs. “It’s okay. I kind of liked you standing up for me. I guess the cat’s out of the bag about us though.”
I can’t find it in myself to be sorry about that. “Good, I don’t want to keep you a secret.”
Her finger stills. “What about Mase?”
I groan. “New rule,” I say, pinching her hip. “No talking about your brother while I’ve got my hands on you.”
She laughs.
I kiss the top of her head. “We’ll figure it out, Firebird.”
A sweet sigh escapes her as she nuzzles against me.
Lola might have needed our little game to prove that she could be good, but I didn’t.
That truth is tattooed on my heart, and I’ll prove it to her again and again.
But Lola doesn’t need to be good for me.
She can be wild and bratty and endlessly free.
I want to worship Lola Ford until she realizes there is absolutely nothing wrong with being exactly who she is.