It’s not Roman!My mind tries to scream, but fear is a powerful emotion, and I don’t stand a chance against its savagery.
I feel the pressure of his muscular body press against me, and I can’t help the instinct but to try and get away.
Screams tear through my throat as I shove him away, crawling up the bed until I’m ramrod straight. Panting breaths and watery vision distorting the sight of Roman’s startled face in front of me.
“Shit! Amira! Fuck! I’m so sorry!” Roman stays on the other side of the bed, hands held out in front of him as he tries to calm me down. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to get closer to you! I fucking promise.”
I hold the pillow in front of my quaking chest, tears streaming down my face as I attempt to catch my breath.
I want to explain that I believe him and that he did nothing wrong. It was me. I ruined the moment, but I can’t speak to relieve him.
I can barely inhale any oxygen, the walls around me closing in as my panic attack takes hold.
A crack fissures in my chest when I watch him grab his shirt from the bed and slip it on. Then, taking himself as far away from me as he can, he begins pacing the space by the foot of the bed.
Every time I think I’m moving forward, Roman and I share a sexual moment, and all the progress I’ve made falls apart at my feet.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper in a choked exhale, hot tears dripping from the corners of my eyes as I squeeze the pillow in my fist.
Roman’s pacing ceases, and he raises his eyes to mine. Taking slow, measured steps, he stands beside me and pushes the hair away from my face, staring intensely into my gaze before drying my eyes and kissing me gently on the forehead.
It’s quick, no more than a second, before removing himself from me completely. “Don’t be sorry, angel. It’s okay.”
If it’s okay, why do I feel like someone just stomped a hole into my chest?
If Roman wasn’t angry or disappointed by my retreat, why won’t he look at me?
Why does it feel like I’m losing him?
“Roman,” I call out, but he ignores me and proceeds to leave the room, closing the door behind him.
It’s a troubling emotion when your body craves pleasure, but your mind just won’t let it happen.
It’s even worse when you watch the man you love the most walk away from you, despondency hanging on his shoulders.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ROMAN
Ihear Amira calling for me as I swing the door closed, hinges rattling as I slam it a little too forcefully. My nerves are wound too tight for me to form coherent thoughts, let alone turn around and acknowledge her.
Right now, the only thing I can focus on is the raging hard-on pulsating in my jeans, crying out for a release.
Quickly, I lock myself in the bathroom and tear my dick out of my pants. Dropping my head back, I raise my eyes to the ceiling, yellow light glowing through my eyelids as I fist my dick fiercely until it screams in pleasure.
I fucking hate jacking off like this, knowing Amira is in the other room, most likely crying due to me walking away from her, but I can’t stop. The need to relieve the fucking pressure that dares to make my dick explode is too powerful to resist.
I can’t stop the images of Amira innocently undressing in front of me from playing behind my closed lids. Her petite body was on display as she sat in only a matching bra and panty set.
My cock was already hard when I caught a glimpse of her stiff nipple through the thin fabric of her bra, but when I watched her draw her slim finger up her thigh, teasing me with her gentle caresses before slipping underneath the thin fabric of her panties, I struggled to stay where she seated me as my dick engorged to a painful size.
I don’t think she realized what her doe eyes were doing to me.
How am I supposed to be a supportive, obedient man if she’s staring at me with fuck-me eyes as she rubs her pretty pussy?
I felt like ripping out of my skin while I watched Amira’s dainty finger begin swirling around her glistening clit, eyes fixed solely on me as she slowly penetrated her weeping center.
The replaying images are fuel for the raging inferno blazing through my veins, compelling me to drive my hand forward and take the base of my cock in my firm grip, tugging aggressively and squeezing my tip until I feel tears of elation collect in my eyes.
