His voice was a low, wicked growl, rough with hunger. “I want you, Olivia. I want you all the time. At every waking moment, I ache to be inside you—to fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”
His lips grazed my ear, his breath sending liquid fire through my veins. “Even when we were apart, you haunted me. Now that I have you, I need you even more. I need you screaming beneath me, breaking for me.”
A moan escaped me, my body arching instinctively, my pulse hammering.
“Roman…” I rolled my head from side to side, feeling the heat of his arousal pressing against the back of my neck.
He groaned. “Mmm, amore… your hair against my cock is making me want to come already.”
He pulled back, leaving me aching, wanting. But when I turned, my breath caught—his thick, pulsing length was right in front of my lips.
I wet my lips, my mouth watering at the sight of him.
“Olivia,” he rasped, his voice fraying with restraint.
His cock twitched, thick, swollen, waiting.
I reached out, wrapping my fingers around his heavy shaft, marveling at the heat, the power. My thumb circled the leaking tip, collecting the bead of arousal before bringing it to my lips.
His breath stuttered. His fingers curled in my hair.
I torturously savored his salty taste, and I flicked my tongue over the sensitive head.
“Fuck,” Roman groaned, his grip tightening as his hips twitched toward me. “God, Olivia…”
I opened my mouth, teasing him with feather-light licks before finally wrapping my lips around him.
His groan was guttural, primal. His head tipped back, his abs flexing as he fought for control.
Encouraged, I took him deeper, my tongue swirling, my mouth stretching around his thick length.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” His voice was ragged, his hands firm but gentle as they stroked my scalp.
His cock pulsed against my tongue, thick, hot, and demanding, and I reveled in the power I had over him. The way his muscles tensed, his breath hitched, and the way he trembled beneath my touch fueled my desire.
Tonight, there was no world outside this room. No danger. No fear.
Just this.
Just us.
I was soaked, throbbing, desperate for him, but I held my ground, keeping my mouth wrapped around him, dragging him in and out at an agonizingly slow pace.
Taking my time. Torturing him.
Roman let out a rough groan, his fingers tightening in my hair before he suddenly yanked himself away, gripping his thick shaft with a fist. “Too soon for that, amore mio.” His voice was hoarse, edged with raw need.
I licked my lips, savoring the taste of him, my thighs clenching at the sight of him trying to hold himself together.
As soon as he had his control back, he dropped to his knees in front of me, his hands threading through my hair as he pulled my lips to his.
The moment his mouth met mine, I was lost.
The taste of honeyed mead and his hot, intoxicating, overwhelming scent filled my senses as his tongue slid against mine, claiming me with every deep stroke.
A low moan rumbled from his throat, vibrating against my lips. “Mmm.”
“Mmm,” I echoed, already melting, already surrendering. My legs parted on instinct, my body begging for more, needing his touch, his weight, his heat.
