I want that too. I want to feel the blunt tips of his nails dragging across my sensitive flesh as his lips explore the bare parts of me.
Nodding my head, I give my consent silently, instantly feeling the fire of his tongue running over my skin.
The cold metal of the hood stings as I lay back; the sensation mixed with his light touches flooding my insides, making my arousal drip down my ass as Roman’s mouth nibbles on my neck.
It’s a war for control, mind over heart, as I struggle to let him continue. But his lips feel so soft, hands kind and curious as they ride up my back, and I find that giving up my power, what little I have, doesn’t feel so hard when he makes me feel this good.
On the day of our fight, Roman said he wasn’t trying to fuck me. He was trying to love me, but I didn’t let him. My fear of anything sexual and the emotions of reading my mom's journal were too much to digest at that moment.
I didn’t let Roman love me. I hurt him instead.
I don’t want to hurt him anymore. So, I try my best to fully relax, knowing he wouldn’t take advantage of my body or my damage.
Trails of fire follow his mouth as he leaves kisses over my neck. Drawing my neckline down to suck in the skin of my collarbone and chest, Roman’s fingers inch higher, fingering the underwire of my bra.
He doesn’t go any farther, satisfied with resting his palm against my ribcage as he leaves loving bruises along my neck and chest.
ButIwant more. I need to see if this feeling shooting down to my core is real. Are the live wires electrifying my cells because the craving for his touch is rushing throughout my body… or is it because I’m scared?
These thoughts plague my mind, but I won’t let them stop me.
Not this time.
Roman’s hands hold me up, giving me the freedom to draw my hands behind my back and unhook the clasp holding my bra together.
Roman senses the bra slacken against his fingers and freezes, his tongue halting on the hollow of my throat as the material slips down my sternum, under my shirt.
Rotating my arms in a circular motion, I let the straps fall from my shoulders, shoving my hands up my sleeves when the bra gets caught in the fabric around my elbows.
I’ve avoided Roman’s eyes for the entire removal, but once I get my bra off and shove it underneath the windshield wiper, I have no reason not to look up and burn in his hazel flames.
His gaze asks the question his mouth can’t speak, and I nod my head in confirmation.
Taking his time, drawing out the suspense, Roman begins to lift the bottom of my thermal, letting the warm, muggy breeze collide with my trembling torso.
I watch his head dip low, eyes closed and lips poised, ready to take my budded nipple into his mouth.
I cry out when Roman’s teeth circle my studded flesh, teasing, sucking, and pulling with tempered hunger. My nails dig into the throbbing muscles in his back as my core screams out in need when Roman’s iron shaft thrusts against me. There is no fear, no gut-clenching anxiety when he rubs himself on me. I just feel him.
My hand falls from the coils in his shoulder blades and down the smooth curves of his spine, stopping on the loose-fitting band of his jeans that hang low on the rugged ridges of his waist.
As Roman’s tongue flicks against my nipple, hands squeezing the life out of my waist, I bring my hand to the front of him, and before I can talk myself out of it, I cup his swollen dick.
He jerks in my hold, gasping on a choked breath as he pauses to look at me with widened eyes. I nod again, affirming that I want this, and as he lowers his mouth back onto my chest, his hips press farther into my grip.
I’ve never initiated any kind of touch before. Ever. It wasn’t permitted. It’s not like I would have chosen to touch any one of those men anyway. But now I’m trying, touching the man I love, and I’m stuck… I don’t know what to do.
Should I lower his zipper and stick my hand inside his pants? Do I pull him out and massage his throbbing length?
I want to ask, but the nerves swimming around my insides keep me silent. So, I settle for rubbing him down outside the denim. My unease begins to fade away when his dick begins to grow under my touch, and the lightness settling in my chest breaks my lips in two.
I’m doing it!
I’m touching him, and it doesn’t make me want to cry. I only want to get closer.
Just as my comfort grows, Roman’s hand shoots out, grasping my wrist in a punishing grip, preventing me from moving forward.
Fear begins to take me by the throat, and I feel my strength tumbling down, but Roman’s groan of pleasure brightens my spirits, and when he lifts his gaze to meet my eyes, I know I did nothing wrong.
