Page 115 of Finders Reapers

Rome’s breathing was even but heavy as he dipped the tip of his middle finger into my core and drew it out slowly, taking the wetness that he found there and using it to slide over my nub without touching it directly. A slow circle that butted my clitoris with torturous and consistent touch.

His fathomless eyes watched my reactions, my eye intake of breath, the flutter of my eyelids. I gripped his wrist and rode his hand as he began to tease my core by slowly drawing his finger from my opening to my clit.

Our breathing was in synch, and we shared the same air. My every thought was taken by Rome and his aching touch. I was a skydiver in free fall, reaching out towards the sun. My orgasm hovered on the periphery, but I didn’t succumb because it would mean looking away from the devious and hungry expression that coated Rome’s angular features.

My toes curled. His hand kept its steady and delicate movements. The sound of his fingers fucking me was almost too much.

“Come.” He commanded in his raspy accented voice. “Myshka.”

He was a cat, and I was a mouse.

I was powerless, and from the utter hold that he had on me, I knew he would catch me when I fell. He would take care of me. Rome wasn’t going anywhere.

“Come.” Rome urged again, never changing the speed that he touched my pussy, as my orgasm began to take over my body like demonic possession.

My head threw back, and I felt the veins on my neck as they stretched taut and to the surface. I was very aware of every part of my body reacting to the aching crescendo that Rome had forced from my body. My walls fluttered around his finger as he held it at the deepest point.

He continued to touch me as my pleasure continued to rachet like a jagged stock value chart. Waves and waves. Twitching muscles and curled toes.

My fingernails dug into his wrist, but he didn’t seem to care. My eyes remained closed as I caught my breath.

“Rome,” I whispered as I licked my bottom lip. My tongue was dry, and I wasn’t sure I could speak, even if I tried.

Rome pulled his hand from the front of my panties and adjusted his trousers.

I flushed, embarrassed. I hadn’t even thought about touching him and reciprocating. I reached forward, but Rome redirected my hand before I brushed his cock through his trousers.

Even though his erection was a rigid pipe in his underwear, outlined so proudly that it had to be painful, Rome took my hand and turned it over to kiss my exposed wrist where the blue veins stood stark against my body's milky and freckled skin.

“But—” I argued.I wanted to touch you.

“That’s enough for tonight.” Rome’s eyes flicked to mine and held me prisoner. He lingered for only a moment longer before he scooted back and eased himself to standing. The movement was measured, not too quick to count as a rejection, but still, a parting statement that we were done for the evening.

I nodded, understanding. It had been a long day, and the heavy conversation beforehand stopped me from pushing any further. Rome felt the need to control the interaction, and I wouldn’t take that away from him.

“Goodnight, Valentina.” Rome tilted his head to the side as he lifted the hand that had been between my legs and slowly brushed his middle finger across his bottom lip, allowing his tongue to dart out—to taste me.

Then he was gone.

Chapter 14

Someone had made up the pull-out couch for me while I had been out with Rome and Ollie. I made a mental note to thank the guys for cleaning away the files from the communal area so that I could go to sleep without worrying about disrupting their research.

I debated going up to Fletcher’s room, tempted by the thought of his fluffy mattress, but decided that it might not be the best idea after what had happened between Rome and me—I could still smell his cologne against my skin.

I didn’t want to sleep in such a tight dress, and I doubly didn’t want to snag the fabric, so I pulled off my clothes and settled under the blankets. The house was silent, save for the dull hum of the AC.

I usually would find fear in the darkness of the unfamiliar house, but instead, I found it all too easy to fall asleep. My eyes were heavy, and there was security in knowing Rome, Maddox, Fletcher, and Jamal were only a staircase away.

I could feel them inside of my chest, like a dull beat cocooning my own heartbeat and mirroring it. The magic of the Grim, connecting us. If I wanted to, I was certain I could follow the strange strings inside my chest back to the source. Each one tasted like each of the guys.

Sleep hovered, pressing down on me and stealing any thought of testing those strings.

My.world shifted in the same way that it did when I stepped through a doorway, but I was aware that I was sleeping. Dreaming.

Red sand, as far as the eye could see, and angry storm undulating in the distance.

The sand began to skitter down the dune as if something large traveled in the distance. I squinted. A sand storm? An all-terrain vehicle? I had no idea. It was my dream, but unlike my dreams when I was alive, I had no knowledge or control of my surroundings.

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