“And you’d fucking like it,” He purrs.
His fingers curl into my flesh. “Roman.”
“It would be louder than that.” He dips his head, running his nose along my jawline. “You’d scream it. Claw my back until I bled.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
“And then I’d do it again, until I painted you mine from the inside and marked your thighs with my fingers. Left bites on your neck and your lips swollen from my kiss.”
My breath is coming out in short but heavy bursts. Oh my god. My core throbs. I feel every part of histouch, hyperaware of his presence and every part of him that touches me. The scratch of his stubble, the hardness of his fingers, the words that are promised against my skin.
His hand releases my hip but doesn’t let go; instead, he follows the curve down, over the strap of my panties before he comes to a stop at my thigh, fingers drumming against my skin.
“Tell me,wife,” His voice is all growl, deep, rasping and warm, “Are you wet? If I slip my hand inside your panties, will I find out just how much you want me?”
Yes.
He keeps his eyes on mine, and as he traces his fingers inwards, to my inner thigh and then up, I shiver, “Tell me to stop.”
My lashes flutter. “I can’t.”
“Fuck,” He groans, and his fingers slip under my panties. On the first swipe, my knees wobble; on the second, a loud moan slips from my lips.
“Goddamn,” He groans, “Lift your leg, sweetheart.”
Shakily, I do as instructed and rest my foot on the log beside him, giving him access to me. And he fucking takes it, lowering his fingers closer to my entrance to tease me there, circling and dipping only a little inside.
“You are drenched, baby,” He rasps, focused on his task. “You feel that? How wet you are?”
“More,” I beg shamelessly, my head tipping back, “Fuck.”
He gives as I ask, sliding his fingers further inside of me and curling them just right as he slides them back out only to press the pad of his thumb to my clit.
I reach out to steady myself on his shoulder, my body tightening in response to his fingers. Nipples pressing against the material of my shirt, skin pebbling, heart racing…fuck me.
He keeps going, pushing further and further, in and out with his fingers while he circles his thumb over my clit. It isn’t rushed, and not a single spot is missed. He’s meticulous, absolute, playing my body like it’s an instrument that only he knows how to play.
“You’re so fucking warm, Niamh,” He groans, “I feel you sucking me in. So greedy, baby.”
The rasp of his words only adds to the inferno burning up inside of me, winding me up so damn tight. Any moment I’m going to snap.
“You’re going to sing for me, aren’t you, pretty girl?” His pace quickens, thrusting his hand into me harder, faster, all the while his thumb works my clit.
“Oh God,” I cry out, my hips now moving to chase the high.
“Give it to me, Niamh,” He demands. “Come on, let me see it. Relax.”
My fingers curl into his shoulder as every single muscle tightens, my pussy convulsing, squeezing.
It all releases at once, and I can’t stop the sound that leaves my throat. I moan his name as I convulse, my orgasm ripping through me. He keeps going, working me through it until I can’t stand any longer, and even then, he catches me, his fingers still buried inside.
With one arm banded around me, the other between my legs, he dips his head and buries his face into the side of my neck, licking and sucking my skin.
“So fucking pretty when you fall apart for me, sweetheart.”
Chapter 24
The last thing I want to do is let go of her, but if I don’t, I’ll have her pinned to the nearest tree with my cock buried between her legs in the next second.
