Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
He reached for the hem of my t-shirt, quickly pulling it over my head. As soon as my favorite pink bra hit the floor, he kissed me—an aggressive, bruising, mind-blowing kiss. I wasn’t patient. I needed to feel him against my body to ease the growing desire that was building in my stomach. My fingers slid up under his shirt, feeling the muscles of his stomach grow taut against the touch of my fingertips. I eased the soft fabric over his head and tossed it to the floor. Neither of us had gotten completely undressed the first time we had sex, so I was surprised to find that his chest was covered in tattoos.
I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to touch him. He watched silently as my fingers trailed along the intricate lines of his ink. I was utterly enthralled by the beautiful Celtic design with various words and images intertwined. My fingers continued to work their way up his chest but quickly stopped when I felt several raised scars hidden beneath the ink. Roman remained perfectly still, watching silently as I moved my hand across the various scars. Some were small, while others were thick and gnarled. I looked up at him, my mind filled with questions, but the words were stuck in my throat. When my fingers reached his back, I gasped, “Roman.”
“The scars you see aren’t the ones you have to worry about, Frankie. They healed a long time ago...It’s the ones buried deep that are going to be the hardest to heal.”
I knew he was right. While they were not nearly as horrific as his, I had scars of my own. I didn’t even notice them anymore. It was Marc’s cruel words that cut the deepest and lingered in the back of my mind. They haunted me, filling me with insecurities. I placed the palm of my hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat against my hand as I said, “I’m sorry anyone ever made you feel like you weren’t good enough, that you weren’t worthy of love, because you are. You just have to believe it, Roman. Let me be the one to show you.”
“You deserve so much more than a man like me.”
“But it’s you that I want.”
“I’m not sure I can be gentle with you, Frankie. I want you too fucking much.” It was a warning, but I didn’t want to stop; stopping was the last thing I wanted to do. There was something about the thought of him losing control that enticed me even more.
“I don’t want you to be gentle with me,” I confessed.
The sound of his zipper sliding down sent a jolt of excitement through me. This man had me imagining all sorts of things—very naughty, wicked things. Unable to stop the thoughts that were going through my head, I slowly dropped to my knees, reaching out for the waistband of his jeans. His eyes widened when I started to inch his jeans down his hips. A torturous groan vibrated through his chest when I took him in my hand and began to stroke up and down his hard, rigid shaft. His fingers clamped around the edge of the dresser, and his eyes shut when I brushed my tongue against the sensitive flesh.
“Fuck,” he mumbled as I took him deep in my mouth. I continued to stroke him slowly, with my fingers wound tightly around his cock, feeling him throb against my tongue. His fingers tangled in my hair as his hips thrust forward, guiding me to take him deeper. I wasn’t exactly confident I was doing it right, but seeing how his body responded to my touch gave me such a sense of power. The thought of making this man lose control with just my mouth exhilarated me, fueled my desire, and made me want him even more. With just the twist of my hand, a guttural moan echoed through the room, and a pained expression crossed his face.
I loved seeing him fall apart from my touch, and I was shocked when I was suddenly yanked up from the floor and carried over to the bed. He dropped me, with my back lying flat against the mattress. I propped up on my elbows and watched him slowly lower my panties down my legs.
“Hey! What was that?” I protested.
“I love your mouth, Frankie, but I need to be inside you.”
I anxiously awaited as he took a condom out of his wallet, tore the wrapper open with his teeth, and slowly slid the latex down his long, hard shaft. He hovered between my legs, and goosebumps rose from my flesh, while I watched his eyes roam over every inch of my bare skin.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
His calloused thumb circled around my nipple, and my hips bucked toward him, needing to feel him inside me. “Please,” I begged. His warm, wet tongue pressed against my breast as he said, “Please what? Tell me what you want.” He was teasing me with his words, driving me wild with anticipation.