“Right there,” he rasps. I lower myself onto him, and both of us let out low, guttural moans. He drapes his mouth over mine, drowning the end of the noise with his kiss, and his mouth throbs with a passionate message—meant onlyfor me.
The feeling of bliss ruptures against my skin, forming goosebumps as his fingertips gently skate down my spine as I move up and down. “Holy hell, Waverly. I can’t believethisis what I was missing out on all this time.”
His words fuel me—making me feel like I’m a diamond in a dark cave we’ve both been dwelling in for far too long. “Roman.” My head falls back in pure pleasure, and my hair tickles my back, triggering extra senses.
“Hold on for me, baby,” he whispers as I feel myself tilting back. With the help of his legs, the swing starts moving back and forth, intensifying the push and pull of our bodies. His thumb finds my clit and starts teasing with circular motions.
Sweat lines his forehead as he groans from his own pleasure underneath me. “Jesus?—”
I fall forward, nuzzling my face in his neck and peppering kisses to his jaw. His hand wraps in my hair, the pace of his thumb speeds up, as does my rocking.
“Promise me that you’ll look at me when you come.” Roman pulls my hair, parting my lips from his skin. “I want to watch your face. I want to see what I’ve been dying to see all these years.”
I ask breathlessly, “What would that be?” Our bodies intuitively start writhing together as the swing keeps moving back and forth.
He’s right. The only time I’ve come undone for him was facing a window. I was on display for the world to see, but not him.
“You unravelingjust for me.” The last few words come out a low growl. His lips part and his eyes slam shut before he fights to hold them open.
“I’m—”
“Look at me, Rome,” I parrot his request. Resting my hands on his lower neck, we start pushing to the brink of no return. Roman starts grunting and pulsing inside of me, and I follow him over the edge, trying to hold onto my promise. His chocolate eyes are glassy and he lets out a breath, lost in a place there’s no coming back from. He holds me tight as I ride out my orgasm to the bitter end. Soaking every last ounce of that wave, I lean down and gently rest a kiss on his lips. A light chuckle escapes him, and he pulls me against his chest, still inside of me. We wait until the quickness of our pulses quiet as we welcome a calming wind hitting against the trees.
Silence. Bliss. The point of no return.
Despite what has just transpired between us, a passionate fluttering arises at the back on my neck where his fingers lightly dance over my skin.
Roman whispers into my hair, “I love you, Waverly. I always have.”
As if his words release me, tears stream down my cheeks. “And I love you, Rome. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anybody.”
A lazy smile crosses his face. One of pure calmness and contentment.
CHAPTER 41
WAVERLY
Fortunate:With death comes life. With sadness comes happiness. And with darkness comes light.
Unfortunate:With life comes death. With happiness comes sadness. And with light comes darkness.
There’ssomething remarkable about the morning after you finally sleep with someone who has been off limits for so long. The sun shines a little brighter, the birds sing a little louder, and life seems a lot shinier despite the shitty days.
We spent the night in his childhood bedroom. I’ve never been privy to seeing it before last night. Roman had already moved out of his parents’ house by the time I was introduced to Janine and Harold. Hell, I’ve never even seen Patrick’s room. He would always say, “It’s best to leave the past in the past.” Jesus, the more I look back at our relationship, the more I realize he was a complete douchebag.
I unlock the door to my apartment while Roman’s hands skate around my waist holding me close.
“I can’t pack an overnight bag if you don’t let me go,” I tease him, knowing full well I can do almost anything as long as he never lets go.
“I just can’t. You’ll have to deal with me touching you.” He nuzzles his face into my neck from behind, sending my nerves into overdrive. It turns out his love language is touch as well.
We’ll get along just fine.
He won’t push me away when I hug him. He won’t try to get out of cuddling. Not when we are cut from the same cloth.
I lean my head against him. “Nuzzle away then.” I smile knowing he’s loving this just as much as I do. I feel it against my back.
Last night, we barely slept. Unable to keep our hands—or our mouths—off each other. I’m tired, but the adrenaline of him in my space is ethereal.