I can't stop.
He may not be essential for life, but this is all I will ever get with him. I won't give it up until I am forced to.
I grab the hem of his shirt and pull it up, and he lets go of my face long enough for me to drag it over his head and drop it. Thenhis mouth is back on mine, hungrier now, hands sliding from my hips up over my curves and back.
"This doesn't change anything," I tell him, splaying my hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under my fingers.
"I know."
"I'm still angry with you."
"I know that too." He continues backing me up until my legs hit the bed and I sit and he follows me down, pressing me onto the mattress with his body. The whole bed jostles, bumping the nightstand and making my book fall to the floor.
"You're an asshole," I say as his mouth moves down my jaw to my neck.
"You've mentioned it." His teeth close on the skin below my ear and I gasp and my hips lift off the bed and I can feel him smile against my throat. "You want me to stop?"
"No."
"Then stop telling me you hate me and let me touch you."
He pushes my T-shirt up, his hand dragging along my ribs, and I arch enough for him to pull it over my head. My bra goes next—one hand behind my back, and with a single twist it's gone. He looks down at me, bare from the waist up, and I watch his eyes travel from my face to my chest and the way he devours me with his gaze makes my stomach clench.
"You're staring," I say as I reach for him.
"Staring is rude. This is worship, sweetheart." He lowers his mouth to my breast, his lips closing around the nipple, and the heat of his tongue makes me moan.
"Rome—"
"Mmm." The vibration of it against my breast sends a jolt straight between my legs. "I like when you call me that.” He sucks harder, and I whimper as my hips come off the bed. Then he moves to the other breast, tongue first, circling the nipple slowly before pulling it into his mouth. I twitch and writhe and wrap my legs around his hips.
"You're sensitive like this," he says against my skin before he flicks his tongue across the nipple making me gasp. "And here." He bites gently, and I whimper. "I'm learning where you break."
"Well, break me then," I groan as I pull him up for a kiss. HIs lips cover mine, tongue searching me as my body begins grinding up on him.
His hand comes up to a breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging gently, and I'm squirming and breathing between kisses and losing track of every thought I've ever had.
When his hand leaves my breast and travels down my stomach, pushing under the waistband of my sweatpants and underwear in one motion I whimper. His fingers slide through the wetness between my legs and the groan that comes out of him vibrates through my chest.
"Fuck, Mila."
"Don't act surprised… You're the one who did it." His hips pump against my outer thigh while he strokes me and I tense again.
"I'm not the least bit surprised, baby." His fingers find my clit and press down and my whole body jerks. "When was the last time someone touched you here?"
"You know the answer to that." Blood rushes to my face. What is he doing to me? He knows I was a virgin when I came here.
"Tell me anyway. I want to hear you say it."
I'm embarrassed. I don't know if he likes that or if he's trying to degrade me. Some guys get off on that. "You're the only one who's touched me."
"That's right, because you belong to me now." He speeds up, and I moan and my hips rock against his hand. "Are you starting to understand yet?"
"Are you always this possessive?"
"With you? Yes." He presses harder and my breath hitches. "With you, I'm worse than possessive. I'm obsessed." His fingers circle tighter and faster and my head falls back against the pillow and my mouth opens and no sound comes out for a few seconds because the pleasure is so intense it's stolen my voice.
"So fucking beautiful like this, Mila."
