The Story of Me (Carnage #2)

“Chill, little girl, I just want to help you relax.” He runs his palm gently over my arse and whispers in my ear, “I promise not to touch this.” He squeezes my bum cheek hard. “Not till you’re ready for me to. Could be tonight, could be next week, but I’ll make sure you fucking love it when I do take it.” Fuck, I’m melting. I push my pubic bone down into the bed to try to get some friction. “Now, oil, where will I find it?”


“Bathroom,” is all I can manage to get out. He’s suddenly gone and I try to gather my thoughts. I’m shaking from head to toe and my head is pounding. I’m sure I’m doing the right thing. I just need to get this first time out of the way, and I couldn’t have picked anyone better than Roman. He wants nothing from me; there’s no illusion of love, and I like him. I couldn’t do this otherwise. The days of cold, calculated sex are long gone for me. I need a connection, but the fact that what I feel for him isn’t intense or overwhelming me is probably a good thing. I like him a lot, but I have no plans for a long-term relationship with him. He’s only in town till February, and I’m thinking of going back to England before Christmas, maybe as soon as next week. He’s hot to look at and he’s a great bloke; he’s kind, considerate, and from what I can tell without being obvious, he has a decent-sized dick. He’s hot. He seems to know what he wants with regard to sex, and he’s hot, did I mention that already? So bingo, I just need to get this done and not become a blubbering mess during the process.

The bathroom light goes out and he comes back over. What he does next instantly makes tears sting my eyes, because it’s so tender and intimate; he scoops all my hair up onto the top of my head and secures it with a scrunchy that he must have gotten from the bathroom. He kisses across my shoulders then straddles me, sitting across the tops of my thighs. I hear the cap flip and the squishing sound of oil being squeezed from the bottle. The smell hits me instantly; baby oil. It reminds me of my nephews and nieces, of home, of Sean and of Beau, and I squeeze my eyes tightly closed.

“Relax, Georgia; relax those shoulders,” he whispers right in my ear, and I feel goose bumps travel up my spine. He gently massages the oil into my shoulders, rubbing it in with his fingertips and thumbs. Sometimes it’s almost painful, but mostly it feels amazing. I rest my head down on the mattress and let myself drift away. His big hands move over my ribs, down to my waist, gently coaxing the tension out of me, easing away the stress and making me ache with desire. Every so often as he moves, I can feel his cock or his balls brush against me and I wonder what it will feel like to have him inside me. He moves lower down the bed, pushing my legs apart. He massages each of my feet, then up the back of each of my calves, further up the backs of my legs. Every now and then, he rains down little kisses, licks, nips and bites over my body. His hands finally reach my bum again, and he drags a finger all the way through the middle; all the way down but stops short of pushing it inside me. His body covers mine, and I feel his cock resting at my arse crack.

“Turn over,” he whispers in my ear. My limbs feel heavy as he eases off me, giving me the space to turn onto my back.

There’s barely any light in the room, just what’s shining in from the street below, but it’s enough to make out his outline as he kneels between my legs. He lifts my leg by the ankle and kisses all the way to the top of my thigh, then he repeats the action with my other leg, but instead of kisses, he drags his teeth over my delicate flesh. This time, when he gets to the top, he doesn’t stop. He swipes his finger through me while resting my foot up on his shoulder. When he gets to my opening, he moves his finger in a circle, and we both know from the slick sounds it makes that I am wet and wanting him. He bites down gently on the inside of my ankle, just above the bone and my hips buck forward. His eyes meet mine, and even if it were pitch dark in that room, I would still see them; they shine like diamonds.

“What do you want, Georgia, hmm? My fingers or my cock?” He moves his free hand and begins stroking himself as I watch. “Or do you want something else? Shall I find a toy? Shall I fuck you with something else so I can sit here and watch you come? What would you like?” Fuck. My mind is racing. I want all of those things. He pushes his finger inside me and the words just jump from my mouth.