Page 25 of Touch Of Fate
“Only when the moment calls for it,” he replies, his eyes narrowing.
“Is this one of those moments?” I need him to make a move. He holds my gaze, gauging my reaction, and I lay all my emotions bare for him to see. He slides his hand under my jaw, over my ear, and into my hair.
“Your eyes are telling me to be anything but a gentleman,” he rasps, and yanks me close. “Am I reading them right?”
“Yes,” I whisper and slide even closer. He drops his gaze, looking down my body and then to my lips.
“My Mara,” he whispers, and my heart thuds. “My beautiful bond.” My lips part, and he kisses me.
His tongue demands entrance, and I open further. This is different from the first, and it feels like weeks since. He’s not as tentative. I don’t worry about my technique—I just follow his lead. He pushes me to my back, rolling over me, and tucking me close. His leg is between mine, and I wrap my foot around his ankle. I feel like a teenager making out for the first time with the boy I’ve had a crush on for ages. We are fully clothed, but it doesn’t matter. It feels like we are fused together, naked.
He trails his hand from my hair down my body, his rings catching on the fabric. He stops on my hip, his thumb grazing my skin where my shirt has risen, and sweeps back and forth. I roll my hips reflexively, needing to be closer. He props his other arm beside my head, his fingers tangling in my hair, and urges me to tip my head back further. I do, and he deepens the kiss.
It’s like a dance, and he leads. With every move, he shows me how to step. His other fingers wrap around my side, pulling, urging me to push closer. I groan as his cock rubs against me, the warmth that began when I woke by just looking at him, grows. He rips his mouth away, dropping his forehead to mine.
“We have to stop,” he groans.
“Why?” My breath is heavy, and my body wants what he can give me.
“If we continue, I won’t want to stop until I have you.” He lifts his head and stares into my eyes. “Are you ready?”
“It’s been a long time,” I admit.
“I don’t want to rush you.” He cups my throat. “I’ve never wanted anyone like I do you. Having you underneath me is all I want, and I am not a gentleman. I love it that you look to me to guide you. It turns me on. I will position you where I want you, and demand you to stay there.” He takes a deep breath. “I desperately want inside you. But you need more. More time, and to get to know me. To trust me.”
“You’re right,” I sigh.
“I don’t have much restraint,” he says, sliding his hand between my breasts. “What little I have can be used to give you relief.” I moan as he continues his dissent. “Do you want that, my Mara?” He glides his fingers between my jeans and stomach.
“Please,” I gasp.
“Fuck, I love that sound,” he hums and pops my button free. “Do it again.” He slides my zipper down, and I can’t help the noises that emerge. “Yes.” He cups me, and my eyes roll back.His touch is barely a caress over my panties, and I’m ready to come. “Asshole,” he growls, and I blink.
“What?” I ask, opening my eyes when he pulls away.
“Are you guys awake?” Archer asks.
“No,” I whisper. Rome fixes my jeans, scowling.
“She’s usually up,” Lace mutters. I love her, but I want to harm her.
“Mara, shit, I’m sorry.” Rome rolls off the bed. “Do not come in here,” he growls. He runs his hands through his hair, and I exhale harshly. The moment is ruined, but my body hasn’t gotten the message.
“I’ll make coffee,” Lace yells.
“Baby, you alright?” Rome asks, leaning over the bed.
“No,” I whisper. “Can we spell them? Maybe I can freeze them and you can get back on the bed.” He grins.
“I’m afraid not,” he says. “Fuck, I wish we could. You squirming underneath me will keep me hard all day. Especially if you don’t get out of bed.”
“Is it wrong that I love that?” I love that it affected him so much.
“No.” His lips twitch, and he backs away. I roll to my side and sit up.
“She’s lucky she makes good coffee,” I mumble, sweeping my hair back.
“I’m going to need a pot,” he says softly, staring at my hair.
