Spoken For (9 page)

He brushes another kiss over my mouth before he rolls off the bed. “Then don’t. I, on the other hand, have some business calls to make.”

I give him a look. “It must be almost midnight.”

“Not in Tokyo,” he chuckles. “I’ll be up for a couple of hours. I’ll sleep in my own room so I don’t disturb you. Will you be okay?”

“Perfectly okay,” I assure him.

More than okay.

I haven’t thought about it until right now, but I honestly don’t know.

I know I can have sex with this man and stay.

That’s all I need for now.

I don’t want to think about what I’ll do when I have to wake up next to him.

20

I WAKE UP to a serious case of misgivings. Not about Roman. About myself. My entire body blushes at the memory of last night.

I’m not naturally shy, but I’ve always been a vanilla-sex kind of girl…until last night. I have no control and no shame when it comes to Roman.

All it takes is a darkly intense look and a deeply rumbled order and my body becomes putty for him to mould.

There’s no denying it.

I enjoyed it.

I loved every second.

But how do I face Roman this morning and pretend he didn’t put me over his knee and spank my butt with a leather paddle into the most exotic orgasm of my life?

On that thought, I shuffle about on the bed. But no, my butt cheeks aren’t tender or the least bit sore. He couldn’t have spanked me all that hard, definitely not enough to bruise.

I drag myself from the bed and into the bathroom to get ready for the day. Once I’ve brushed my teeth and washed my face, I tug my night shorts down and twist about in front of the mirror to check my butt.

There are no welts.

No stripes.

No sign of bruising.

Well, now I know. My pain tolerance is obviously as low as I suspected. When I was over his knee, I thought for sure I wouldn’t sit comfortably for a week.

Ha.

As I’m pulling up my shorts, my gaze stalls on the basin stand. Last night, I washed the pearl G-String and left it there to dry.

It’s not there now.

I look over the floor, but it hasn’t fallen either.

Roman?

I pad through to the room, my eyes on the black shopping bag he left behind. Did he return during the night? Pack everything neatly away?

My feet take me all the way to the chest of drawers, but instead of peeking inside the bag, I wrap my arms tightly around myself. Those wanton threads of desire pull low in my abdomen at the thought of what else might be inside that bag.

But I don’t want to look.

Partly afraid of what I might find.

Partly not wanting to spoil the next unexpected thrill.

I’ve got it so bad.

My body is totally addicted to Roman Rocchi.

And while I’m still standing there, my eyes screwed on that bag, my dark and disgraceful addiction walks into the room.

His gaze flicks from the bag to me and my face grows warm.

“You were sleeping so peacefully earlier, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” His grin is sensual as he walks up to me and loops his arms around my waist.

His mouth crashes over mine in a tongue-sweeping kiss and just like that, my fears are dispelled.
Kinky
redefines itself into
a healthy sexual appetite
in my head as I slide my body closer against him and fit my hands over his rock-hard backside.

He walks me backward until my legs hit the bed and then he folds me down, flat on my back while he comes over me.

I search his eyes for signs of tiredness. Find none. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“I grabbed a couple of hours.” A long wedge of hair falls forward, tickling my stomach as he grips the hem of my camisole between his teeth and drags it up. “I missed you.”

“You mean…” I arch off the bed in a wriggle. “You missed this.”

He chuckles, and doesn’t deny it.

But who am I to speak?

I’m already melting, wet for him, and he’s barely touched me.

He slides the band of my shorts over my hips and then shifts back as he pulls them down my legs and over my feet. Then he drops to the floor on his knees and pulls my legs over his shoulders.

My backside is lifted completely off the bed, my clit raised to his mouth.

My fingers twist into the bedding as he runs the tip of his tongue along my seam, dipping into my wet entrance, then all the way back again to flick my quivering nub.

“Roman…” I groan, my eyes closing as he repeats the torture.

“I know, baby,” he growls, and his tongue licks even lighter now, teasing me into a fever.

I try to squirm, to press my pulsing clit against something hard, his mouth, anything to rub the waves of desire deeper, but he’s holding my legs firmly, preventing me from taking before he’s ready to give.

His tongue concentrates on my swollen nub, alternating with leisurely swirls and hard flicks. Frustrated desire breaks into a sweat over my trembling skin. My fingers twist tighter into the bedding in an attempt to ground me, but nothing helps.

I’m whimpering, still squirming and bucking to press into him even though I know it’s useless. He licks a slow line down my seam and then his tongue is gone.

My legs are still pinned over his shoulders, spread wide. My lowered abdomen is cramped with knots and the rest of me is soaked with want.

What the hell is he waiting for?

I open my eyes.

Oh, God…
He’s watching my pussy up close, studying it as if it were a work of art. His eyes have turned to silver fire. Intense, raw desire darkens his face and feeds into mine. My inner walls pulsate.

“Your pussy is so damn beautiful and impatient,” he says hoarsely. “Will you come, Keegan?”

His gaze slides over my stomach, the swell of my breasts and up my throat until he’s staring deep into my eyes. “Will you come with nothing more than my eyes fucking you?”

I drag my lip through my teeth.

I don’t want to answer.

But he knows.

Yes, I will. I’m so close…

He presses to his feet, adjusting my legs as he does so. My knees are bent and flattened to the bed on either side of me, my thighs spread as wide as my hips will allow, my core exposed to him.

“Roman, please…” My body is both boneless and tense and the conflict sweeps through me with a shudder.

He takes a step back and his eyes drop to my pussy as he slowly strips his tee and then then starts working the buckle of his belt.

My clit swells for him and my juices leak.

He keeps going, his eyes fucking my pussy while he undresses. I’m a mass of nerves there, and when I see his fully aroused length, long and thick, that is all it takes. I think of him inching into me, filling me, and my pussy convulses and clamps around the small orgasm.

When it’s over, I’m worse off than before the release.

I’m nowhere near sated.

Roman steps between my legs and leans over. The tip of his cock nudges my entrance, but doesn’t press in.

He scoops an arm beneath my back to lift me up so he can pull my camisole over my head. The motion drives his cock into me a small inch and my pussy clenches hard, greedy for more.

His jaw strains, but his control is impeccable. He lowers me again and brings his mouth down on my nipple, teasing and sucking while his hand takes care of my other breast.

My arms go around him, clawing at his back as I lift myself up to ride him another inch deeper.

A guttural roar scrapes from his throat and suddenly that control is gone. His head lifts and both hands flatten over my bent knees. My butt lifts as he presses my knees down, keeping me slightly raised and wide open as he surges deep inside me.

I take him, his full length and thickness, in that one, urgent thrust that slams his cock against the back of my canal.

He withdraws and slams into me again, his balls ramming me, his groin hair scraping my swollen nub. Hot shivers shoot through me as my climax leaps to the next high with each thrust and he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t slow down and he doesn’t gentle.

He rides me hard and fast and rough, pounding that deep burn until my orgasm explodes. I scream his name and tense, my muscles gripping and squeezing his thrusting cock.

“Fuck…” Roman grunts and then his seed shoots into me, sending another wave of explosions rippling through my shattered state.

When he collapses beside me, he wraps an arm around me and pulls me close. I sink into his warmth as my body recovers, threading my fingers through his short chest hairs. I love this part too, the tenderness that always comes after wild sex with Roman.

But he’s not done.

After a couple of minutes, he rolls me onto my back and nudges his thigh between mine. His hands glide over my skin as he whispers butterfly kisses up my throat.

“Now we take it slow.” His nips my lip gently, then moulds his mouth to mine in a slanting kiss. “I’m going to taste every inch of you.”

That promise curls into my toes as he runs his tongue over the seam of my lips.

21

AFTER BREAKFAST, ROMAN suggests a walk.

I’m still shattered, and a little sore between the legs from this morning’s rough pounding, but a walk sounds marvellous. I could certainly do with some exercise outside the bedroom.

I nip upstairs to grab my coat, gloves and fur-lined boots.

When I meet Roman at the side entrance, my eyes go to the backpack slung over his shoulder. My enthusiasm wavers. “A hike?”

“Come on,” he chuckles, “it’s only twenty minutes and well worth it.”

We walk through the pine forest past the distillery outbuildings and then wind our way through a narrow crevice cut into the mountains. The air is crisp and I breathe in deeply, feeling thoroughly alive.

Roman doesn’t say much, but there’s no silence to fill. We’re lost in the beauty of the mountains and our thoughts, walking single file along the narrow path.

I don’t know what I’m doing with Roman, what’s happening here, but I do know that I’m at peace.

I haven’t felt this content, restful, for many years.

Maybe it’s a form of statis that cannot last, and that’s okay as well.

I don’t expect to find forever in Roman’s arms, but I think I’m finally starting to find myself.

The crevice spits us out onto the most magnificent vista. We haven’t been climbing, but Kleighnorm sits high in its own mountain and below us nestles a vast lake glittering in the morning sunlight. Thick forest packs up against the shore on one side and shelves of grey rock slide into the water on the other side.

Roman takes my hand to help me over the series of boulders as we descend to the rocky side.

“This is stunning,” I gasp when we stop at the bottom, my gaze absorbing our surroundings.

Roman nods.

The wind tugs at his hair, sweeping long strands over his chiselled face as he turns to look at me, his smile creasing into his eyes. “Connor showed me this place the first time I came to stay with him and Jean.”

For a moment, I see the vulnerability inside him.

I see the seven year old boy thrown into the world alone.

I understand a small part of him.

“This was your favourite spot as a child, wasn’t it?” I say, imagining the hours he spent here in the magnificent solitude.

“Still is.” He slings his backpack from his shoulder and settles down on a rock shelf, one leg stretched out, his other knee bent.

I sit beside him cross-legged, watching as he unpacks a flask and two mugs. “The rose tattoo on your arm… That’s your family, your parents and your sister?”

“My sister… Madeline, was eight years older than me.” He pours the coffee as he speaks and hands me a mug. “My fifteenth birthday hit me hard. From then on, I’d be older than she would ever be.” He rubs his arm as he turns his gaze on the lake. “That’s when I got the tattoo.”

“What happened?” I ask quietly. “How did…?”

It’s not simple curiosity.

It’s a yearning deep inside me to know him more, more fully.

He sips from his mug, looking out over the lake.

After an endless age, when I think he hasn’t heard, or maybe just refuses to answer, he sighs. “It’s complicated.”

I don’t want to press, but I want him to know that I care. That I feel for him. “I’m so sorry, Roman. That must have been a really difficult time.”

“Yes,” he murmurs. “It was.”

We leave it there, fall back into the easy silence as we sip our coffee.

He hasn’t shut me out.

At least, that’s not how it feels.

Awareness comes over me, slowly at first, then it slams into my heart almost as roughly as his cock slammed into me earlier.

Roman has let me in.

He brought me here.

This lake he has shared with me tells me more about him than a thousand words ever could.