My ob-gyn said that there would be tons of hormonal fluctuations after the pregnancy, I just thought I was past them all. I’ve never cried this much in my life.
I can tell that my tears are shredding Roman, so he does the only thing he can think to do. He unties my robe, wraps his hands around my waist and lifts me gently onto the bathroom counter. He grabs a wad of toilet tissue and dabs at the tears rolling down my cheeks.
“Shh,” he tells me. “You know I hate it when you cry.”
He slides his hand down the side of my face and traces a line down my clavicle and to my breasts. He bends over, gingerly placing a kiss on the tops of each one. He then slides the robe off of my shoulders and unfastens my bra.
His eyes lustfully dance as he watches my large mounds jostle free from their captivity. A small droplet of milk flows from one of my breasts and he quickly dabs it dry with some tissue and several soft kisses. I close my eyes in rapture as he suckles gently back and forth around each nipple making sure not to suck to greedily.
Roman pulls me down off the counter and places me back on my feet, permitting the robe to fall completely to the floor. He turns me around to face the mirror above the sink and pulls me back into his embrace.
“Look at us,” he tells me. “There is no more perfect moment than every moment that we’re together.”
He sucks on two of his fingers then slides the hand down the front of my panties, slipping those two fingers in between my folds on either side of my clit. I lay my head back on his chest and close my eyes because it feels so frackin’ good.
“Open your eyes, Duchess. Watch as I make you come. Remember who you belong to.”
I lazily open my eyes and look back into the mirror. The reflection of this gorgeous man and his tatted arm diving farther into my pussy is so hot I can feel myself gushing onto his fingers.
“So wet,” he says approvingly in my ear.
He continues his rhythmic stroking of me as he takes his other hand and wraps at the base of my throat.
“Play with your tits for me, Duchess,” he orders. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
I’m panting with need as I pluck my nipples.
I’m getting so close.
“You ready to come, baby?” He smirks in the mirror.
“Yes.”
“How badly do you want me inside of you right now?”
“Badly.”
“Then you know what to do.”
He wants me to beg and at this point I’ll do whatever he wants so that I can come.
“Please fuck me, Masterson.”
His eyes look crazed with desire for me. His grip stays steady around my throat as he uses his fingers to pinch my clit with just the right amount of pressure that creates sparks of white lights behind my eyes as I climax.
“Eyes open!” He orders in the middle of my ecstasy, and I watch myself as I free float from my orgasm into a series of smaller aftershocks.
He kisses my back for a moment, then slides me to the side to wash his hands.
“I hope you enjoyed that because there will be no fucking you raw until you set a date, Duchess.”
Wait, what?
I’m still speechless as he saunters out of the bathroom like he just proved some point. He shuts the door behind him, and for a moment I think he’s walked away, but then I hear him lean against the door after a heavy exhalation.
“I think I’m going to go back to work with the guys, Elizabeth.”
My stomach drops from his unexpected announcement. This is the first time he’s ever mentioned wanting to go back to the club or to the fixes or whatever the hell he’s talking about.I mean, how long has he been considering this?
