Roman
Page 39

 Sawyer Bennett

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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.”
Holding himself up over me with his weight on one elbow, Roman proceeds to use his fingers between my legs to drive me to almost desperate need. His face looms right over mine, refusing to kiss me but preferring to watch every nuance of pleasure on my face while he drives me to an embarrassingly quick orgasm.
My back arches again off the bed and my breath, which I’d been holding deep in my lungs, hisses out from between my teeth.
“Oh, Roman,” I sigh as I start fall back down to earth and his fingers withdraw.
Leaning down, he brushes his lips across mine before pushing off me and grabbing the lonely condom that’s been lying there for what may be hours.
He opens it with efficient ease, and I try not to think how many times he’s practiced that maneuver. My brain is still fuzzy from my orgasm as I watch him roll the condom onto his cock, which until this point I just haven’t had a chance to get a good look at it.
It makes my mouth water, but that’s for another time.
When my eyes finally lift to Roman’s face, I find him smirking at me, since I was so brazenly admiring his, um…well, his magnificence.
Roman brings his bulk down on top of me once again, but holding most of his weight off me with his strong arms, which bulge with the strain. Then his mouth is back on mine, devouring me once again and causing me to fall prey to his sexual sorcery.
My arms wrap around his neck and my legs spread, rise high, hug his hips as he presses into me. Slowly he slides in. One long, slow plunge into me and it might be the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life.
I can’t help myself, and I moan right into his mouth as my eyes flutter closed, “Roman.”
I can feel him smile against my mouth, pleased with my reaction, and when he’s planted as deep as he can possibly go, he lifts his head and stares down at me. “I can’t believe we waited this long to do this.”
My normal reaction to Roman and his humor would be to laugh, but I’m feeling too full of anticipation and need to let it take command. So instead, I just open my eyes, give him a lazy smile, and nod. “Lesson learned.”
Leaning down, he kisses me softly then starts to move inside of me.
And I’m blown away by the slow and deliberate pace he pushes upon my body. Everything I’ve come to learn about Roman, particularly after he practically ripped my clothes off, led me to believe our first time would be frantic, maybe even a bit messy. Definitely noisy.
But instead he just slowly moves his length in and out of me, ensuring I can feel every amazing and wonderful inch as he stokes the lust so I’m a burning, writhing, moaning mess who may or may not be practically chanting Roman’s name at this point.
While Roman’s body is seemingly in control, I can tell he’s on the edge, as his eyes seem to rage with the need for release. His breathing is shallow, and he groans every time he sinks into me, almost as if he’s in pain.
When Roman’s head falls and his forehead touches mine, I squeeze my eyes shut and wrap my arms tight around his neck. I think about all the different emotions I’ve seen tonight from this man who likes to laugh at the world, but right now nothing seems funny with what’s transpiring between us.
He strikes at something deep within me, and my second orgasm starts to build. Everything tightens as my fingertips dig into his shoulders, and as if he senses that I’m on the edge and so very close, he pulls back slowly and then punches back in deeper than ever.
“Oooohhhh,” I cry out as my entire body seems to explode. It happens so fast, catches me so off guard, that my body bucks under his huge frame, almost pushing him right out of me.
Roman groans in appreciation as I ripple and spasm all around him. His head pulls up, he places his cheek against mine, and with one more solid push into me, he grinds his hips down and whispers, “I’m going to come.”
And he does, first with the muscles in his back and shoulders tightening up, and then with his head thrown back so I have an up-close view of his corded neck muscles straining as he looks up to the ceiling and groans, “Fuck, I’m coming.”
He shudders, grits his teeth, and grinds harder into me, finally dropping his head but not before I notice a hazy film of complete euphoria over his eyes. His head tilts slightly, and his beautiful face almost transforms right before me as he lets go of the almost druggedlike sensation of expended passion, and his eyes start to clear. He looks at me with fascination, as if he can’t believe what just happened between us, and all I can do is smile at him and say, “I know. I felt it too.”
Chapter 17

Roman
My eyes drift open, noting the bright winter sunlight filtering in through the closed blinds and casting the room in an early dawn glow. I’m on my back, in the middle of the bed, and Lexi is lying half on top of me. Her head is heavy on my chest, her arm across my stomach and her leg tucked in tight between my own. My cock is semihard and pressing against the top of her thigh, probably because it wakes up—just like me—knowing there’s a sexy woman available for the taking and very happy about it. But I don’t do anything about it other than lie there and just feel her body weight against mine. I listen to her breathing—a soft snore, just like she emitted last night—that blows across my chest, tickling the hair. The softness of her skin as my fingers drag lightly over her hip. Even the tiny bit of drool I can feel on my chest where her mouth is open, which makes me grin up at the ceiling.
Christ…I love every bit of it.
It makes me wonder, have I missed out on this before? Have I been thinking about women and intimacy wrong all these years?
Lexi is not the first woman to stay in my bed overnight, but she is the first I’ve woken up to cuddled up against me. I’m not a back sleeper. After I fuck a woman, I usually roll right over onto my stomach, tucking a pillow underneath to cradle me from chest to cheek, and my legs sprawled to claim my territory. If a woman stays all night, she doesn’t get an inch of my space, and if all goes well, she slinks out while I’m in the shower after a curt kiss-off after I wake up.