Devoured - Cathryn Fox Page 0,29
hurry, we—”
He snatches my hand and ushers me out the classroom door before I can even finish my sentence. Hand in hand, like two lovestruck teenagers, we laugh and hurry outside the school. I sneeze again when we pass by the same purple flowers.
He casts me a quick glance, and beneath the lust I spot genuine concern. “Allergies?” I nod, and he slows his steps when I become a bit breathless. “Tell me about your day,” he says, his brow furrowed, real interest on his face. “Did you enjoy it as much as you thought you would?”
“It was so much fun. The kids are all wonderful.” He grins at me and I talk endlessly, as I sometimes do, as we continue to make our way back home. We reach the villa and I’m winded from my incessant chatter. “I’m sorry,” I say.
“For what?” Roman pushes the door open and gestures for me to enter.
“I talked nonstop and never even asked how your day was.” I frown and his mouth drops to my lips, stoking my need for him as I push past him. “That was thoughtless of me.”
“There’s nothing thoughtless about you, Peyton.” His voice is almost tortured as he says that, like it’s something he can’t quite comprehend, like it scares him a bit. Inside he shuts the door and pushes me against it. “And if you really want to know about my day, let’s just say we’re about to get to the highlight reel.”
“Does the highlight reel have anything to do with me?” I slide my arms around his neck and take pleasure in his strength and sureness. The man is a powerhouse, and while I feel small in his arms, I also feel cherished.
“It has everything to do with you. Don’t you realize you’re the star of the show?” He runs his thumb over my bottom lip, and warm sensations grip me. “This mouth. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His nostrils flare and my nipples tighten with arousal. “I’m going to destroy it.” I suck in a breath, his filthy words derailing my ability to think. He inches closer, his lips a breath away from mine, and I’m about to open for him, welcome his ravishing tongue inside, when my nose tingles.
“What...what if I’m getting a cold?”
His eyes are glazed, completely enraptured with my mouth, a hungry wolf about to feast on a lamb, when he says, “I thought you said it was just allergies.”
“Can we take a chance?” I rake my hand through his hair and make a mess of it. The mussed-up look works for him. Then again, any look works for him. “I don’t want you to get sick.” Why the hell am I trying to talk him out of this when I want him to strip me bare and make a complete and utter mess of me?
He laughs, but it’s more like a tortured growl and my body burns in response. “You think a cold is going to keep me from claiming this sweet mouth?” Oh God, I shouldn’t like how he wants to claim me. I shouldn’t like it at all. But I do.
He presses his body against mine, and his cock is so hard, I’m pretty sure the entire marine corps couldn’t stop him from touching me. “I don’t want to get you sick.”
Just shut up already, Peyton.
“Yeah, I know. You’re sweet like that.” His demeanor changes, and in the blink of an eye the wild animal vanishes, the hunger receding, giving way to a soft smile as he pulls me from the door. “Come on,” he says, the tenderness in his tone like a gentle caress over my skin, and I work to ignore the strange possessive tug on my emotions.
This is just sex, Peyton.
“Where?”
He leads me into the kitchen, and on the counter I see every kind of allergy medication known to mankind. “What did you do?”
He gives a casual shrug, like it’s nothing, but it’s not nothing to me. “I didn’t know what kind you took.”
I pick up box after box after box. “You have enough here to obliterate allergies from mankind.”
“Just need to obliterate them from you,” he says.
My heart thumps, my insides going to mush.
It’s just sex, Peyton.
Why then, when he does stuff like this, does it feel like so much more?
“Roman,” I say. I’m so touched by his thoughtfulness, it’s hard to push the words out.
“I told you I was committed, Peyton. You’re going to get this job and you’re not going to