glance up at me. “So damn perfect,” he says, and I vibrate beneath his admiration. “This sweet little pussy...” He shakes his head as he strokes along the length of me. I practically orgasm and when he glances up at me again, it’s clear he knows how desperate I am for it. “Have you been touched before?”
“Barely.”
“Why?” he asks.
Oh, because you’re the only man I ever really wanted to touch me. “The truth is, Roman, my one and only time was with a sloppy college boy who didn’t know his way around my body.” I take in Roman’s dark eyes and everything tells me he’s a man who knows just how to stroke all the spots that will bring me pleasure. “Guys never really paid attention to me, and that was okay by me because I didn’t really want to be touched after that experience,” I add honestly. It’s true—guys didn’t want me and I didn’t want to be touched, unless it was by this man. I keep that bit of information to myself.
His eyes lock on mine. “You want me to touch you?”
“Yes.”
“To see how much you hate it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll touch you, Peyton.” His fingers sweep over my damp curls. “I’ll touch this sweet little pussy until you’re screaming my name in orgasm, but I have a condition.”
“What?” I ask as he moves his finger a tiny inch. I whimper and put my hands on his shoulder as my flesh tightens.
“I don’t want you to just tell me how much you hate it. I want you to show me, too.”
Fire licks through me. The man wants me to open up for him, bloom under his touch. “I can do that,” I say.
“Good girl,” he says, and I’m rewarded with the rest of his finger. He slides it all the way into my body, and I whimper.
“One more thing, and we need to make this clear.”
“What?” I ask, pretty sure I’d agree to running through fire naked to get him to keep going.
“This is all I can give you.”
“Trust me, Roman. I don’t want more. No kids or family for me. I am not a girl you have to worry about,” I say, eager to settle his worries. I am not going down any road—or aisle—with him, and don’t want anything in return.
I try to widen my legs, but my shorts hug them tightly together, and damned if that doesn’t come with its own excitement. As lust floods my body, something niggles at me. “I need one thing from you,” I whimper.
“Just one.” He ever so lightly moves his finger inside me, tease that he is.
“Maybe more,” I say, my body on hyperdrive, but we’re about to cross a line that neither of us can come back from. Yes, I’m seducing him. In the end, however, I don’t want to be with him if it’s something he’ll never forgive himself for. “Promise me this. No regrets, Roman.”
“Peyton.” His hot breath washes over my tingling flesh. “I’ve struggled enough. Keeping my distance from you has been pure torture.” My pulse jumps at the admission. An agonized groan catches in his throat. “I can’t do it anymore,” he says, his control snapping like a tightwire.
“Can’t?”
“Don’t want to.”
“I don’t want you to, either,” I say, and touch his face. “Okay, no regrets. After I sign the contract, we go back to the way things were. A clean slate, okay?”
“Deal.”
“You know, though. You know what I think I’d really hate,” I say.
“No, what?”
“I would probably really hate it if you shoved me to my knees and put your cock in my mouth.”
“Sweet hell,” he grumbles under his breath. “We’re going to find out, right after I devour this barely touched pussy of yours and watch you hate every damn second of it.”
Yes, please.
He slides his wet tongue over me, and I let loose a loud moan, my fingers digging into his shoulder. “Oh, yeah,” I murmur. “I hate that so much.”
His chuckle races over my skin, and my entire body quivers. I move my hips to ride his tongue and this time he lets me. His thick, slick finger slides in and out of me, and I shut my eyes as pleasure dances along my nerve endings.
He flattens his tongue and swipes it over my clit, long leisurely strokes, every movement unhurried, like he has all the time in the world to simply give pleasure. I whimper and move and grind against his mouth. I’m shameless, I know. But goddammit, the man has a magical