Page 24 of Wicked Waters

Oh, fuck.

That body.

I couldn’t breathe.

“You’re a bit quiet, Quinn. Something wrong?”

His faux-innocent tone immediately riled me up. “Shut up.” I spun back around, pressing my forehead against the wall, reminding myself of what he’d done. Except it was hard to hold on to the anger and bitterness when I’d just seen him bared to me. When I’d been overcome by that rush of want. To touch, to taste, to have him touch me back.

Strong arms slid around my waist, his voice a low rumble in my ear, making me shiver despite myself. “Fuck. You in my hoodie…”

“Roman, please. Don’t. We need to talk.”

Releasing me, he turned me to face him. “We will. After.”

Then he lifted me into his arms, stalking over to one of the rowing boats moored inside the huge shed. It looked as if it was undergoing maintenance, with the interior completely stripped out, piled on the wooden dock next to it.

The boat bobbed gently in the water as Roman threw his damp towel inside and then lowered me so I was lying along the bottom of the boat. He climbed in after me, making it rock as he lowered himself. Thankfully, for my sanity, he’d pulled on a pair of sweatpants, although he hadn’t bothered with a top, his chest still bared to me.

“What are you doing?”

“Returning the favour so we’re on more equal footing for this fucking conversation that neither of us wants to have,” he said and then pulled off my trainers, throwing them onto the dock. I shrieked, my legs instinctively coming up. “Stay still,” he ground out and then tugged down my leggings and underwear in one go.

A shocked gasp tore from my throat as I yanked my hands down to cover myself. “Roman!”

“Quiet.” He crawled over me, balancing on his forearms. His head lowered to mine. “Let me make you feel as good as you made me feel.”

He kissed me slowly, carefully, until I gave in, opening my mouth to him and letting his tongue slide over mine. My hands gradually came up, circling his back. Somehow, between the shock of him ripping my leggings off and now, my nudity no longer bothered me, even though it probably should’ve, given the circumstances.

“Good girl,” he murmured, kissing down my jaw and onto my throat. Balancing on one arm, he slid the other down my body, stopping right at the edge of my clit. “I know you’re wet for me. I know you want me, don’t you?”

“It’s just a physical reaction. It could happen with any good-looking guy,” I lied, my body trembling as I held myself as still as possible rather than rocking up into his touch.

“Liar. You’re mine, Quinn, whether you like it or not. Whether I like it or not. No one else can make you feel this good. No one else will ever get to touch you the way I do.” With those words, he skimmed over my clit with the pad of his thumb. Fuck. Trying to stay away from him was a lost cause. My body arched upwards, seeking more friction, and he chuckled darkly against my throat, his teeth scraping over my skin. “Admit it, baby. No one affects you the way I do.”

“You’re so arrogant.” My hands slid into his hair, then down over the back of his head, my palms stroking over the muscles of his shoulders. I moaned as he circled his thumb. “Ro. Please.”

Lifting his head, he grinned at me before shifting down the boat, making it rock, his fingers teasing over my wetness, making my hips arch again. He stared up at me with a sinful smirk before he lowered his head, his hot mouth joining his fingers.

“Fuuuuck. Roman.” I wound my legs around him, holding him in place, and he laughed against me, the vibrations sending shivers through my body. Then he stopped teasing me with a long, slow swipe of his tongue along my slit while his thumb continued circling, this time with more pressure.

This man knew exactly what he was doing. I moaned as his fingers curled around my thigh, lifting my leg over his shoulder and adjusting the angle as he licked inside me.

“Roman.” I gasped his name as I shattered around him, my thighs shaking as he held me in place, never letting up, until I had to tug at his hair to move him away. I collapsed back, my eyes closing as I gulped air into my oxygen-deprived lungs. I was wrung out, gone for him, my brain blissfully blank as I lost myself in the haze of pleasure he’d given me.

When I felt him move again, my eyes fluttered open, and I watched as he straddled my thighs. My eyes were drawn to the erection tenting his joggers, but when I lifted my hand, he shook his head.

“No. You lie there and let me do all the work. Don’t move.” Pushing my—or his—hoodie and top out of the way to expose the entirety of my stomach area, he lowered his joggers, his hard cock coming into view, the head glistening with precum. His tongue swiped across his lips. “Mmm. You taste so good.”

My cheeks heated, and he gave me that arrogant, sexy grin again before he began to stroke his length, his hand moving faster as I watched avidly, barely able to breathe as he chased his release while pinning me in place with his powerful thighs.

“Fuck,” he groaned, giving his hand a twist, and then his cock pulsed, striping my lower body with his cum. It was so hot, and I was so. Fucking. Turned. On.

He slumped forwards, panting, and then he gave his cock one last, slow stroke, groaning again. “Don’t move,” he warned, his voice hoarse. His finger slid across my lower stomach, smearing his release over my skin. Then he moved it with purpose, and I suddenly realised he was writing letters on my body with his cum.

“W-what are you doing?”

His eyes met mine as he sat back, finally finished. “Making something clear. Read the word, and I want you to remember this.”

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