So of course I sway my hips as I cross to his bed and then climb up on top, pushing the comforter that’s balled up on the lower half of the bed all the way off so there’s nothing obstructing Roman’s view of me.
I come to my knees as I turn toward Roman, whose eyes are lasered onto me. I slide my fingertips up my thighs, past my hips. My intent is to give him a slow show, drive him crazy in incremental moments. Build him up until he becomes wild for me, just as I sensed he was out on the couch.
I grab the edge of my camisole that comes down just past the edge of the waistband of my panties and pull it up a few inches so he gets a peek at my stomach. With my other hand, I let my fingertips flirt with the satin covering the front of my mound, snaking them up to the elastic edge. Roman’s eyes glitter in the lamplight and he sits up in his chair, leaning forward as if to get a better view.
My further intent is to dive my hand down, burrow it deep inside and let Roman imagine what my hand is doing underneath that satin, but I’m shocked when he lunges from the chair and in one large stride he’s up on the bed and I’m underneath him, flat on my back. My breath huffs out in surprise, my legs automatically parting for him to settle against me. Roman looms over me, his large body tensed as his hands press down into the mattress at my shoulders.
“I thought you wanted to watch me,” I whisper as I bring my hands to his chest, where I can feel the thunder of his heart against my palms.
“I did,” he growls, looking slightly vexed. “But apparently have I no fucking self-control where you’re concerned.”
“Well, if it helps,” I tell him with a brash smile, “it’s a total turn-on the way you jumped on me.”
His return smile is a little stiff, and I realize that he’s still struggling for some control. He pushes off the mattress, coming to his knees, and reaches into his back pocket. Out comes his wallet and he fishes out a condom, tossing the wallet to the floor and the foil packet onto the bed next to me.
Roman sits back on his haunches and studies me a moment, his eyes slowly traveling down to my chest. He reaches out with one hand, turns it, and grazes a knuckle over one of my nipples. A punch of lust hits me hard between my legs and I moan over the slight touch, silently begging for him to give me more.
His gaze slowly travels back up and he leans over me, palms now to the mattress by my head. Roman’s head descends and my mouth is already open when his meets mine. He kisses me so deeply my entire body shudders, and I vaguely feel his hands slide from the bed to my shoulders, fingers moving inward to the base of my collarbone.
I’m sunk so deep into our kiss, his tongue stroking mine with surety, that I barely comprehend his hands grabbing onto the neckline of my camisole.
R-i-i-i-p!
Roman rears up off me and I’m stunned to see him looking down at me in triumph with my cotton camisole split down the middle and now lying at my side.
“I can’t believe you just ripped my cami,” I say indignantly, although truth be told, that was hot as hell.
That scoundrel grins at me, then his eyes slide down to my breasts, followed by his hands as they palm each one before squeezing them. “Told you I have no control where you’re concerned.”
“You owe me a new cami,” I say on a gasp as he pinches a nipple, causing me to moan his name. “Roman.”
“I like that,” he murmurs as his eyes rise back up to mine. “You moaning my name. Let’s see how many more times I can get you to do that.”
A vicious cramp of desire hits me square between the legs and I silently beg him to rip my panties off the same exact way.
But he doesn’t, instead choosing to stretch out on top of me and start right back at the top again, just kissing me.
Time has no meaning as our mouths explore and our hands tentatively grasp each other. Somewhere in there, during the lost minutes—perhaps hours—Roman’s clothes come off and he even removes the shreds of my cami along with my panties.
With our breathing getting heavier and our touches getting bolder, I get to a point where I just can’t take any more of this foreplay.
“Roman,” I gasp into the air, my back arching off the bed as his mouth closes over my nipple. My fingers are deep into his hair and I give a little tug. “Will you fuck me already?”
He chuckles, the vibrations spreading away from my nipple, and he lifts his head up to look at me. “Láska…I’ll get there soon enough.”
Láska? I have no clue what that means, but it’s lovely.
But then I don’t care what it means, because finally Roman puts his hand between my legs and slides a finger gently but deeply into me.
“Roman,” I moan.
“That’s right,” he growls as he pulls his finger out and adds another, pressing in deep and keeping them there. “Now I’m going to make you come, Lexi.”