man stares up at me through his lashes. Rogue strands of chocolate hair hang down in his face, making him look boyish and painfully handsome. I don’t know what’s happening, but the force between us is tangible. I can taste it. All I want to do is lean up and taste him.
“Heart surgery.” It feels like I swallow my tongue after I say those words. His brows tug down, and for the first time ever, I see worry flit across his features. It’s written there in the bright color of his eyes.
“You’re all good now, right? There’s not—”
I nod, tracing my fingers over his lips, stopping him, before he can finish that thought. I figure it’s not really a lie if I don’t use words. Rome doesn’t need to know that my heart defect won’t ever be one hundred percent healed. I’ll never not have to worry about it. It’s something I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life.
I could tell him, but I don’t want to risk him running, just like Reid did. I think it’s why he tried so hard not to get our relationship to work. Because he knew what my odds were. He knew what he was getting into with me, and I was afraid losing him would mean starting over with someone else, who might not be capable of handling it.
And as I stare up at Roman, even though I want him to want me, truth and all, with everything else he already has on his plate, holding the truth from him is as much for his benefit as it is mine.
“Kiss me,” I beg.
And he does. He kisses me until I’m panting. He slides down my body, his tongue showing extra attention to my breasts, drawing moans out of me. His hand dips between my legs, fingers swirling between my wet folds. It’s all so much, the different sensations he’s eliciting, and I can’t keep up with them all.
His tongue flutters over my folds, and a long digit slides inside me. He pumps slowly at first, taking his time with me. Toying with me, he uses his fingers and mouth. My hands fist into his bedsheets, and I writhe on the bed. My stomach dips with the euphoric sensations he evokes in my body. I feel my orgasm looming. I’m on the cusp of coming, just from his tongue alone.
When he slides a second finger inside me and begins scissoring them, going faster, then slower, my hands fly to his head for support.
“That’s it, baby,” he breathes into my sex, as he fucks me with his mouth and fingers. “Ride my fingers. Just like that, Olivia.”
Colors flash sporadically behind my closed lids, and I groan, my body spasming violently on the bed, as my orgasm rips through me. His movements are so quick that I barely have a moment to catch my breath, before he has me positioned on all fours, and he’s hovering behind me, angling his cock at my entrance.
“Jesus Christ, you look good like this,” he groans, as he slips inside me. Our moans are a chorus around us. The sound of wet flesh slapping and cries of pleasure percolate in the room. With a skill that I’m beginning to both love and loathe, he pounds me into the mattress from behind. I find it so hot when I glance up, looking at the window, and I find our reflection staring back at us. If I look hard enough, I can see into my bedroom, but right now, all I can focus on are the strong sinews of muscles jumping and flexing in Rome’s body, as he fucks me.
“You watching, baby?” he whispers seductively in my ear, pointing at his window. I moan, because yes, I am looking, and I find I can’t look away. Our height difference should be a problem, but like this, the way he towers over me, taking me is so hot. When he lifts my legs, changing the angle of his thrusts, my eyes roll into the back of my head. The tip of his cock is hitting something inside me, and with each thrust, it rubs, building and building, until I feel like I’m going to explode.
“Oh God,” I choke.
“I can see everything from here, Olivia. Even in the dark.” My core clenches violently at his words, because I know what he’s getting at. Jesus. This is messed up. Looking beyond our reflection, I look into my bedroom, and he’s right. I