Page 88 of Before I Say I Don't
I rode him harder. The sound of his balls smacking against my pussy filled the room—obscene, wet, rhythmic. Every thrust made my body jolt, my moans spilling out in sync with the clap of skin on skin.
Heat bloomed low in my stomach, sharp and sweet, and my eyes fluttered closed as bliss swept through me.
Roman’s rough and commanding voice snapped me back. “I told you about that looking away and closing your eyes shit.”
His hand shot up to cup my jaw, forcing my face toward him. Roman’s stare locked me in place, dark and unyielding.
“Unless I’m hittin’ this good shit from the back, I want your eyes on me at all times, baby.”
I whimpered.
Roman’s words alone made me clench around him, but he didn’t let up.
“I want you to remember exactly who dragged you outta that numb shit and reminded you what it feels like tolive.”
When I tried to push back, meeting him stroke for stroke, his laugh was rough and arrogant.
“Cute. But you don’t get to fight me for control… not tonight. Tonight you’ll learn the difference between a man who takes his time…” He snapped his hips up hard enough to make me gasp. “…and a man who takes what’s his.”
I leaned forward, kissing him hard and nastily. Both of us got lost in the heat and sweat until the world outside that couch didn’t exist.
When it finally ended, I collapsed against him, breath ragged, foreheads pressed together like magnets too tired to fight anymore.
“You with me?” Roman murmured after a long minute, thumb sweeping my cheekbone.
“I’m… very with you,” I said, a laugh wrecked and happy.
He kissed my temple, still holding me like he had no intention of letting me go.
Chapter Twenty-One
KAMIRA
Iwoke up the next morning sore… in the best way. The bed beside me was empty, but the air was rich with the enticing aroma of butter, crispy bacon, sweet cinnamon, and something deliciously sizzling on the stove. A deep bass line pulsed through the house, adding a lively backdrop to my morning.
I rolled over and reached for my phone on the nightstand. My eyes blinked against the morning light as I squinted at the screen.
Angelo: Good morning, baby. I hope you’re feeling better. What time you plan on coming home?
ViangelothoughtI was at Danica’s—at least, that was the lie I told him.
The surprise wasn’t him, though… it wasJayla’stext.
Jayla: Good morning, bestie! Just checking on you since you said you weren’t feeling good. I know I been MIA… just personal shit. Call me when you get up! We need a lunch date… just me and you before your big day! I love you!
I scoffed loudly. I didn’t even dignify it with bubbles.
She must think I saw those messages between her and Kendall… I did.
I slid out of bed, wincing slightly at the ache between my thighs, yet a smile crept onto my face at the thought of what brought it on.
I hit the bathroom, took care of my business in there, then followed the music to the kitchen, where the delicious scents wafted invitingly.
Roman was at the stove shirtless, and rocking gray sweats, moving like a man who meant business as he plated up vanilla-bean French toast, fluffy eggs, and crispy turkey bacon. A skillet of peach compote simmered low, the sweet scent cutting through the air.
Instead of gospel like I grew up hearing on Sunday mornings, Tevin Campbell’s voice poured from the speakers—silky, timeless music. And honestly? One could never go wrong with his songs.
Roman glanced over his shoulder, eyes skating down my oversized tee and bare legs. ,
