Page 83 of Touch Of Fate
“I do,” he rumbles and pulls me close. “Curious?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“I want inside you,” he says, and I suck in a breath. His lips brush mine as he speaks, and my body trembles.
“Yes, please.” He closes his eyes, a groan emanating from his chest.
“I like that,” he hums, and licks my lips. “Say it again.”
“Please,” I breathe, and he kisses me. Everything is different. There is no hesitation. No holding back.
He squeezes my neck lightly, holding me where he wants me, his tongue tangling with mine. I grasp his shoulders, letting him lead. My experience is limited, but I’m not afraid, knowing he will take care of me. My mind does not know what moves to make, yet my body naturally gives in to his. He drags his hand down my chest to my waist and slips under my shirt. I chase his mouth as he eases back. “Arms up,” he demands, and I raise them. My shirt clears my head, and he cups my waist, urging me to lie flat.
I stretch out on the bed, and he moves over me. He squeezes my hips as his gaze travels from my face down my body. Dipping his head, he tastes the skin between my breasts before licking down the center of my body, stopping at the waistband of my jeans. I suck in my stomach when he bites lightly. He sits on his heels and unbuttons my pants. My hands flex in the blankets at my sides, my desire rising. I watch his muscles bunch as he works the fabric down my legs and throws it to the floor.
“Gorgeous,” he says, and cups my ankles. “So soft.” His hands move up the outside of my legs, the pads of his fingers skating lightly, and I inhale sharply. How can a simple touch bring me to the edge?
He stops at my hips and retraces his path. I stare into his eyes, and my breath stutters at the intensity. Once he reaches the edge of my underwear, his fingers slip underneath, tugging, and slowly slide them down. I lift slightly, aiding their removal. I’m exposed to his gaze as he lifts my legs, bends my knees, and spreads me wide. He leans forward, his face hovering over me briefly while he backs off the bed. I grit my teeth, impatient, a protest on the tip of my tongue. He smiles as if he knows and removes his pants.
He’s beautiful. Powerful. And all mine.
“Take your bra off,” he orders, and I lift my chest. My fingers fumble with the clasp, and I freeze as he crawls onto the bed. I forget what I’m supposed to be doing. He smirks and lowers his head, skimming his lips over my skin, not stopping until his mouth hits the strap between my breasts. I snap out of it when he yanks on it with his teeth.
“Shit,” I murmur, finally succeeding in releasing the clasp. I sink back to the bed, and he pulls. The fabric moves, and I shiver as it slides over my nipples. He balances on one hand to remove it, and I’m completely bare. With so few partners and only one man who saw me naked, I should be nervous. With Rome, it feelsnatural, and he doesn’t make me question his need for me. Every glance and every touch of his hand show me that he loves what he sees.
“I’ve never seen such beauty,” he whispers, kissing me lightly. “It’s all mine.” He dips his head and sucks one nipple and then the other. Cupping my shoulders, I gasp as he moves down, his hands slide to my breasts while his mouth opens over my skin. His hands continue down my body, over my stomach, to my hips. My back leaves the bed as he sucks my clit.
“Rome,” I moan, my hand threading through his hair.
“My Mara is delicious,” he rumbles, and I lift my hips. “Impatient.”
“Yes,” I whimper. His touches have been light but powerful.
“Do you want more?” He licks.
“You know I do,” I grit out. He slides one of his hands over my stomach and down the inside of my thigh. I hold my breath and then release it harshly when he thrusts his finger inside me. “Yes,” I hiss, pushing up to meet him.
“Fuck, so sweet.” He glides in and out. “More?”
“Rome,” I cry, lifting faster. “I need you.”
“Once I’m inside you, it’s going to be fast.”
“I want fast.” I’m already ready to explode. “Now, please.” He surges up, covering me, thrusting deep. I wrap my hands around the headboard, my neck stretching. Cupping my hip, he pulls me closer, pressing our bodies together. His fingers are spread, holding me where he wants me. I try to move, but he hisses and drops his weight onto me.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says roughly. I appreciate his restraint and care.
“My body was made for you. It doesn’t hurt.” His eyes flare, and he thrusts shortly before holding still.
“It was, wasn’t it?” He swirls his hips, and I groan. “Thank you for welcoming me home,” he rumbles. He pulls almost allthe way out, and then steadily fills me again. Over and over, he moves. Letting go of my hip, he slides his hand up the side of my body, his thumb skimming my breast. My tattoos pulse under his touch. Back and forth until he stops on my neck, tipping my chin up, and taking my mouth.
Wrapping my legs around his hips, I surrender to the skills of his mouth and allow my emotions to take over. Rome was right; our magic is stable. Instead of the effects of our feelings causing spells to shoot through the room, they center between us, making the marks on our bodies pulse in time with each other. I let go of the bedframe and glide my palms over his shoulders. I thread one hand through his hair, and the other cups the back of his neck. I break the kiss, gasping for breath.
“Rome,” I pant, and he speeds up. “I—” The build is climbing quickly, the pressure almost overwhelming.
“You ready to come, my Mara?” He growls, and I nod shakily. My grip tightens, and the bed hits the wall as he takes me harder. “Get there, baby.” He dips his head and sucks my nipple. The scruff on his face rubs against my sensitive skin, adding another layer of pleasure.
“Yes,” I hiss, and fall over the edge. It rolls through me, sending sparks of electricity through every corner of my being, sealing us together.
