Page 26 of His to Unwrap
“You can,” he growls, thrusting the toy harder, his eyes darting between my face and the mess he’s making between my thighs, like he can’t quite decide which he’d rather look at.
“It’s too much!”
“Noelle,” he growls. “Look at me.” Our eyes lock and I catch my breath—he looks practically feral, as overwhelmed as I am but hanging steady to his control. “Who decides when it’s too much?”
I moan as he continues to press the toy in and out. “You do,” I manage to gasp, and his answering grin is positively wicked.
“That’s right. So you’re going to take this toy like my good girl, aren’t you?” Suddenly, the toy starts vibrating—he must have pushed a button—ramping up the sensations shooting through my core to an almost unbearable degree
“Roman.”
He slides it deeper, groaning at the sight. “Aren’t you?” he says again, voice harder, more like the Dom I remember from all those nights behind the glass wall at Wyld.
“Yes, sir.”
By the time he lets me come, I’m a mess. My hair is a sweaty tangle, my entire body flushed red as I gasp for breath. I feel completely boneless, like I can’t even hold my head up. A long moment passes before I realize that I’m no longer alone on the couch. Roman has moved up to take my seat, cradling me in his strong arms. He runs a hand up and down my back, the pressure firm, grounding me.
“I’m right here,” he’s murmuring, kissing the top of my head over and over. “I know that was a lot, but you did so good. Shh, baby, I’ve got you.”
“Oh my god,” I manage to gasp out. “That was…I can’t even…”
He chuckles, continuing to run those calming strokes down my bare back. “So I take it that’s a yes vote on the Christmas dildo?”
I’m too wrung out to respond, so I just nuzzle closer into his chest. We sit like that for a long moment, the room growing darker, lit only by the lights of the tree. Eventually, I’m steady enough to pull back and look up at him. The tender expression on his face makes it hard to breathe all over again.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, eyes dark with emotion. “I can’t believe you’re actually here. I can’t believe you’re real.”
I slip my arms around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. “I’ll always be here,” I promise him. “As long as you’ll have me.”
“Then be prepared to never leave,” he says. Our gazes lock and I can see the reflection of twinkling lights from the tree in his eyes. “I love you, Noelle.”
My heart seems to stop, tears immediately coming to my eyes. His expression shifts to panic. “What’s wrong? What did I?—”
I put a finger over his mouth, shaking my head. It takes a moment for me to compose myself. “No one has told me that for a very long time.”
Sadness and understanding wash over his face. “I should have said it earlier. I’ve felt it for so long.” He gives me a sheepish smile. “I’m not always great with words. Or the whole romance thing.”
I shake my head. “Are you kidding? You showed up with a Christmas tree and told me you wanted to make our own tradition. That’s insanely romantic.”
His eyes glint down at me. “Yes, but then I fucked the hell out of you with a candy cane dildo.”
I burst out laughing, the sound abruptly cutting off when he kisses me again. “I love making you laugh,” he says, voice dropping with intensity. “Fuck, Noelle, I love you so much.”
“I love you, too.” I nip his chin. “Since we’ve already established that our Christmas tree tradition includes sex…” I let my voice trail off as my hand drifts toward the rock-hard shaft pressing against my outer thigh.
His jaw tightens. “I’m trying to give you a minute to recover,” he growls. “But don’t push me. I find you impossible to resist, angel.” Then he’s kissing me again, his tongue plundering my mouth, stealing my breath.
When we finally come up for air, I ask him a question I’ve been meaning to since we met. “Why do you call me angel?”
He looks confused by the question. “Because that’s what you are. An angel.” His mouth moves to my jaw, my neck, his kisses hot against my skin. “Good and kind and pure.”
I try to scoff, but end up making a breathless noise instead, too affected by his lips. “Pure? You do know that you met me working at a sex club, right.”
He lifts his head and I kind of wish I hadn’t said anything—I’m not ready for him to stop doing what he was doing with his mouth.
“Pure doesn’t have anything to do with sex, Noelle. I mean that yourheartis pure. Free from anger or bitterness. You’re filled with the brightest light. Your soul is even more beautiful than your face—it overwhelms me.”
“Wow,” I whisper, ducking my head so he doesn’t see my eyes get wet again—he clearly didn’t like to see me cry before.
