He growled low in his throat and eased me away, the separation feeling like agony.
He stripped off his clothing with a fevered intensity, shedding the layers that kept us apart.
And then, nothing remained between us.
His hard body met mine, and I gasped at the sheer heat of him, the way his skin slid against mine.
My hands drifted lower, fingers brushing the rigid proof of his desire, feeling the way his length pressed insistently against me.
Roman groaned, his grip tightening on my waist.
“Let’s get wet, shall we?” he whispered, his voice hoarse with want.
Before I could answer, he lifted me effortlessly into his arms.
A gasp tore from my lips. “Oh!”
I clung to him, hooking my arms around his neck, feeling every inch of him against me as he descended the stone steps into the steaming water.
The heat engulfed us, soothing and sensual.
I let myself go, spreading my arms, floating in the mineral-rich embrace of the spring, my body languid, weightless, open.
Roman’s hands glided beneath me, urging me into a lazy, hypnotic spin through the water. His touch was reverent and possessive.
I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation—the intimacy, the feeling of being cherished, worshipped, claimed.
His voice was dark velvet as he whispered, “Let me wash you, my goddess.”
Before I could respond, he cradled my head in his palm and took my lips in a kiss so tender that I moaned into his mouth, my body instinctively arching toward him, aching for more.
The kiss deepened, his tongue tangling with mine, tasting, teasing, demanding.
When he finally pulled back, his breath was uneven, his gaze heavy with fierce devotion.
“I never want to be apart from you again,” he murmured, his hands tightening on my waist.
I cupped his face, my thumb brushing over the stubble along his jaw, my heart thudding wildly.
“I don’t either. It was hell.”
My voice was husky, raw, thick with the ache of too many nights spent without him.
I lowered my legs, planting my feet against the smooth stone beneath the water, my body pressing flush against his solid frame.
The warm, mineral-rich water lapped at my ribs, but it was nothing compared to the fire Roman ignited inside me.
I gripped his shoulders, nails digging into muscle, and crushed my lips against his, kissing him savagely, desperately, pouring every ounce of my hunger, my longing, my worship into the kiss.
His mouth devoured mine, fierce and unrelenting, his hands roaming my back, pulling me tighter, closer, as if he’d lose me again if he let go.
When we finally tore apart, we were both gasping, our breaths ragged, our bodies taut with restraint.
Roman’s eyes smoldered, dark with a storm of lust and devotion. “Oh, my wicked beauty,” he growled. “I’m going to give you every orgasm you deserve. But for now—” his hands traced down my spine, teasing the curve of my ass— “let me wash you. Then, I’m taking you upstairs and fucking you properly.”
Our gazes locked, the air between us thick, molten.
“What if I can’t wait?” I confessed.
