Page 39 of The Malibu Destiny

“What about Serafina? Were you serious with her?"

Roman's shoulders lift in a casual shrug. "Caspian's sister was off-limits from the start. Should've known better." He meets my eyes, his voice softening. "Never told anyone this stuff before you. It's... different with you. I can tell you things I wouldn’t tell anybody else." His fingers drum against his thigh. "Serafina and I burned hot—all chemistry, no substance. When she said 'I love you,' I couldn't say it back. Not gonna lie to a woman about that." He exhales slowly. "Marriage was on the table. Thank Christ it fell through." A shadow crosses his face. "Started thinking maybe scorching sex was all I'd ever get from a woman, you know? But something felt wrong about settling." His mouth quirks up at one corner. "When she cheated, I felt nothing but relief. Gave me the perfect exit without Caspian coming after my head." He taps his temple. "Dodged that bullet."

A contented sigh escapes me as I nestle against Roman's chest, the rhythm of distant waves rolling in. Something shifted in the air between us when he just confided in me—his voice lower, more vulnerable than I've ever heard from the infamous Kensington temper. He's letting me see behind the walls, and my heart flutters at the privilege.

Twilight deepens around us, the last traces of sunset having faded into memory. Roman's gaze finds mine, his dark eyes revealing what words cannot. A current passes between us—recognition. The missing piece found.

My voice quivers slightly as I ask, "You wanted something deeper than just physical attraction, and..."

"I searched for it with Serafina and every woman before her. Never found it. I'd stopped believing it existed at all." His eyes lock with mine. "Until you."

I close my eyes as warmth floods through me, from my chest to my fingertips. This man—this powerful, complex man who could have anyone—has never felt this way before? The connection between us vibrates like a plucked string, resonant and true. I can't find words for the symmetry of it, how perfectly our broken pieces align.

His fingers thread through my hair, and when his lips claim mine, the kiss resonates through me like a struck bell, the sensation spiraling from my lips down my spine to the soles of my feet, each nerve ending humming in perfect harmony.

His mouth is soft yet demanding, tasting of salt and something darker—whiskey, perhaps, or just the essence of him. My fingers clutch at his shoulders, feeling the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt, and when his tongue brushes mine, I can't help the small sound that escapes me, a surrender and a demand all at once. The sweetness of it borders on pain, a delicious ache blooming in my chest as if my heart has forgotten how to beat properly.

Roman draws me onto his lap, his mouth never leaving mine. I feel his strong hands slip beneath layers of fabric, finding the ties of my bikini with practiced ease. My breath catches as he deftly unties the knot. With quiet confidence, he helps me out of my sweater and coverup before laying me gently on the blanket. Despite the cool coastal air, I'm flushed with warmth—his body heat radiates between us like a living thing.

His lips trace a path downward, and when his mouth finds my breast, I arch toward him instinctively. The precise circles his tongue makes send currents of pleasure through me, first one side, then the other, each touch deliberate and knowing. Heat pools low in my belly, and I close my eyes, surrendering to the sensation, hoping this moment stretches into forever.

His voice drops to a reverent whisper. "Your breasts are so beautiful." His fingertips trace the curve where they swell from my ribcage, eyes drinking in what I've hidden under baggy cotton for most of my life. At five-foot-four and 110 lbs, my DD cup size has felt like a cosmic joke. I remember the burning shame of eighth grade gym class, layering three compression sports bras until I could barely breathe, the elastic cutting angry red lines into my skin. I remember the whispers in hallways, the leering gazes of fathers picking up their sons after school. His palms cup their weight now, thumbs brushing across my nipples as he murmurs, "They're absolutely perfect." I almost believe him.

His voice is dreamy, reverent—a low, honeyed rumble that vibrates against my flushed skin like the first tremors of an earthquake, making the fine hairs on my neck stand at attention. He kisses a slow, deliberate path down my stomach, his five o'clock shadow grazing the sensitive hollow beneath my navel, each press of his full lips leaving a trail of silvery goosebumps in its wake.

When he reaches the apex of my thighs, his warm breath fans across my most sensitive flesh, the scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something uniquely him—mingling with our shared arousal before his tongue finds my core—tentative at first, then bold, tracing intricate patterns that make my toes curl.

His fingers, calloused from years of surfing, slip inside me, curving upward with knowing precision against that perfect spot, and the dual sensation sends electric sparks racing up my spine, igniting every nerve ending until I'm arching beneath him, fingers clutching the blanket beneath me, my body a live wire of pleasure that threatens to short-circuit my very consciousness.

He peels off his sweater in one fluid motion, revealing the sculpted bronze torso that made my breath catch in my throat the other night. The moonlight traces the ridges of his abs, highlighting the thin scar that runs along his left side—a surfing accident from his youth. When he spent that night in my bed, his fingertips had hovered just above my skin, never quite touching, respecting the invisible boundary I'd drawn. But tonight, his midnight eyes hold mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine.

Waves crash as my heart pounds. We're tucked away in this cove, black rocks curving around us like a shield. Salt hangs in the air, catching on his lashes, dampening the sand under our feet. The ocean matters to both of us—to me, it's rhythm and connection; to him, it's where he and his brothers played before everything changed. The tide moves in and out, like the pull between us that won't let go.

I swallow hard and close my eyes as he hovers over me, his breath scorching against my core. My heart hammers wildly as the velvet steel of his manhood burns against my inner thigh. God—the sheer size of him. I knew from the way his tailored suits strained across his body what waited beneath, but feeling him now, thick and pulsing against me, sends electricity crackling through every nerve. His muscles lock tight above me, a predator barely restraining himself from devouring his prey. I gasp, unable to breathe, unable to think, my body trembling with desperate need.

He’s breathing harder and harder as he goes back to the hole in the cliff, where he brought out the champagne and glasses, and comes back with a condom, which he slips on deftly. I cry out as he enters me, white-hot pleasure searing through my body like summer lightning across a midnight sky. My eyes squeeze shut as his mouth—tasting of salt —crashes against mine, tender for only a heartbeat before turning ravenous, his stubble rough against my flushed skin.

He moves with a rhythm that makes me lose track of time, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, drawing out sounds I didn't know I could make. When I call his name, it echoes against the cliffs above us. His hands—rough from saltwater and sun—grip my hips and flip me over in one smooth motion. I find myself on top, fingers pressed against his chest, moving with an urgency I can't contain.

We crash together like waves breaking against rock, my body arching, trembling, as he he’s hovering over me again, driving deeper and deeper. I'm no longer just myself—I'm pure sensation, pure need. His grip bruises as he lifts me, my weight nothing to him, and when he fills me completely I cry out, my voice unrecognizable.

Our bodies crash together again and again. His breath is hot on my neck, each exhale rough against my skin. I taste iron—I've bitten my lip. The world shrinks to just us, to this heat between us that wipes my mind clean of everything but now, but him, but this need I can barely contain.

We finally explode together in a supernova of sensation, my entire body convulsing with wave after merciless wave of the most violent pleasure I've ever experienced. His release floods me, scorching and primal, marking me from within. I collapse against him, utterly devastated, every muscle trembling uncontrollably as he gasps for air against my neck, his powerful frame quaking beneath me like the aftershocks of an earthquake.

His mouth finds mine, then moves across my face, my neck, my collarbone. We lie on the blanket under the night sky, skin against skin. My fingers thread through the coarse hair on his chest as my lips brush his nipple. My body still hums with pleasure, yet I want more. This need for him has settled into my bones—a heat that won't fade. I want to be closer, to dissolve the space between us until we're one.

His breathing turns ragged against my neck, his chest heaving after that bruising kiss. I feel him hard against me again, insistent. "I'm going to make this last,” he whispers as he slips on another condom, his voice dropping to that place that makes my skin prickle. He enters me with excruciating deliberation, claiming territory inch by torturous inch until I'm gasping, clawing at his back. The world narrows to just this—just us—as he fills a void I've carried my whole life without knowing. My body arches, desperate for more, for all of him. This isn't just sex. With each touch, Roman finds something in me I didn't know was there. I close my eyes and feel myself changing, opening, becoming someone new.

Each time I shatter beneath him, our bodies slick with sweat, we're barely given a moment to catch our breath before his mouth crashes back onto mine, hungry and demanding. The cycle begins again—his hands everywhere, my nails raking down his back, both of us trembling and desperate. For hours, we make love under the silver glow of stars, the ocean's roar matching the blood pounding in my ears. This primal need burns hotter with every touch, consuming us both until there's nothing left but Roman and me and this insatiable fire.

We finally lie still, catching our breath. Roman pulls the blanket over us as night gives way to morning. Right next to us, the waves break against the shore. The sky lightens as dawn is breaking - light pink, rose,violet. "Lilith," he whispers into my hair, his voice different somehow. "I've never felt this way before. Not with anyone."

I'm nestled against him, the cashmere blanket soft against our skin. "I know. Soul mates aren't just something from fairy tales," I whisper, tracing the line of his collarbone with my fingertip. "Some souls find each other lifetime after lifetime. Most people never experience it—they find someone wonderful, someone they truly love, but there's... something missing." I watch his eyes as they follow my touch. "When it's real, though, you recognize it instantly. It's beyond love—it's like finding a piece of yourself you never knew was lost." My voice catches. "That's what I felt the first time you kissed me. Like something clicking into place after being wrong my whole life."

Roman looks at me, his dark eyes penetrating like the midnight waves of his beloved Pacific. "Yes," he says, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through my chest. "As silly as I always thought something like soul mate sounds before, I know what you mean now." He leans in, his sandalwood cologne mingling with the salt air as his lips brush against my ear. "As crazy as this sounds, after we haven't known each other that long, I know this is the truth."

I smile. There's a mirror in his eyes, reflecting exactly what I feel. We've found each other in a way that defies explanation. I'll carry this certainty with me through whatever comes next—that for one night, at least, the universe aligned perfectly. Even if dawn breaks this spell, no one can take away these hours when two strangers became something impossible to name.