Sweet Home (Page 41)

“Romeo…” I moaned and closed my eyes in frustration. I needed him so much.

“Mol… I… I…”

My eyes snapped opened and pierced his. “Please…” I begged, desperate to feel him touch me, really touch me.

“Mol… God… you’re making me f**kin’ crazy…” I could tell he was trying to control himself.

“Rome… now!” I practically screamed.

His fingers wrenched the material of my panties aside, ran along my seam, and as he smashed his lips back to mine, he immediately pushed his long middle finger inside me, stroking gently, my breath stuttering with every advance.

“Don’t ever tell me what to do.” Romeo bent his fingers, tugging forward, causing me to convulse. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes. Yes,” I said quickly. I loved the way he controlled me, and my body hummed with satisfaction at every order.

Romeo moved to get into a better position, my head rolling back at the indescribable sensations currently shattering all my defences. I hooked my left arm around his neck as he branded me his with his eager and pulsing hand. I needed to please him too. I wanted to, so I reached down to snap the button on his jeans, trailing the tab of the zipper down with a suggestive bite of my lip.

Romeo froze. “Mol, no, you don’t—”

“Let me take care of you. Let me give you what you need. Please…”

Rome’s cocoa eyes clenched shut as I took his large warmth in my hand and stroked him softly. He expelled harsh breaths with every pump. Our movements increased as we both searched for release, and I shifted on his lap as delicious tension began to build within me. Unable to focus, I pressed my forehead against his and moaned as he added another finger.

“Ah, Romeo… I…” I had no words.

Rome’s toned hips thrust furiously into my hand. “Let go, Mol… fuckin’ let go,” he growled, and with a final stroke, I broke apart, his mouth clashing against mine to consume my moans. His hand didn’t stop its rhythm and drained every ounce of pleasure from my flustered body writhing on top of his.

I continued to stroke him and with a guttural grunt, he tilted his hips to the side and came in long, hard bursts, spilling himself onto the grass.

As we both gradually slowed our movements to a stop, I wrapped both arms around his neck, and our combined breaths mingled in the small space, Rome’s hand still pressed intimately against me.

Romeo’s fingers stroked leisurely along my sex and I mewled against his cheek as he nibbled the skin in the crook of my neck. I lifted my head and leaned back so I could look into his deep-brown eyes.

“Hey, Mol,” he croaked, his chest still erratic from his release.

I blushed. “Hey, you.”

“You okay?” he asked, searching my eyes for something. I wasn’t sure what.

I lowered my gaze and nodded. “More than okay.”

“Look at me,” he instructed sternly.

I complied eagerly.

“You liked that? You liked how I spoke to you, how I ordered you?” He seemed nervous, out of sorts, as though he expected me to be angry.

I did like it. I had little experience with sex, but the way he commanded me stirred something within me. It made me feel liberated on some unknown level.

“Mol, you did like it… didn’t you?” Vulnerability affected the usual hardness of his voice.

“I did, Romeo. I-I didn’t know that I’d like it… like that… but… I think we both know I did.”

A small smile transformed his normally hardened features and he took my hand and ran it across his ribs. “Are they all there?”

I frowned. “What?”

“My ribs. Is there one missin’?”

My hand smoothed up and down his sides. “Okay, I think you’ve lost it. You think you’re missing a rib?”

He exhaled a quiet laugh. “Just thought God took one of mine when he made you.”

Although he was playing, his words made me melt inside. “Romeo. At times you’re really sweet, you know that?”

He winked. “Only for you.”

I kissed the palm of his hand, reflecting on what just happened. It confused me how right it felt—his orders, demands, instructions—but I didn’t want more than that. I could relinquish control to Romeo, but not delve into darker territories.

“What you thinkin’?” Rome cupped my cheeks.

I chewed on my thumbnail. “When you say you like to order, just how far does that need to dominate go?”