Page 51 of Prelude To You

He cast his eyes down to where my pointed nipples pushed firmly against the silk fabric of my dress.

“It’s cold in here,” I whispered, knowing it was the most uninspiring excuse in the world but literally all I had to work with.

The shadow of a smile played around his lips. As if he were tolerating an adorable lie.

His head bent closer this time, his finger lightly touching the hollow in my throat. “I can feel your pulse, every beat of your heart, and right now it’s quickening at an alarming rate. Is the cold causing that too?”

The tiny bit of resistance I had left was slipping under his gaze, hanging by the single thread of a spider’s web. We stood there for the longest moment, me trying to get ahold of myself, and Roman biding his time.

“So, again,” he said firmly. “When you’re ready, let’s get out of this hallway and get on with our evening and see where it takes us.”

I held my breath, feeling lightheaded and reckless. Never before had I ever needed anything as much as I needed this man’s touch. I didn’t know what to do with this overwhelming craving I had. My brain shut down and some hardwired primitive instinct took over. I held his gaze, grabbed his hand and impatiently guided it beneath my dress.

His touch was cool on my hot skin, and I gasped for breath. He hesitated, perhaps surprised, a probing gleam flashing in his blue eyes. Making sure this was what I wanted. My needy whimpering probably persuaded him that this was a pressing issue for me indeed.

Holding my gaze, he braced one hand against the wall, and with the other began to caress my legs. Languidly at first, lightly running his fingers up and down the inside of my thighs. Unhurried, persistent, stoking a wildfire inside me. I pushed myself against him, impetuous, not appreciating the lazy torment he was imposing on me.

We were both very aware that there were people a few yards away from our hiding place, but now we were locked in this secret world, frozen in time where nothing else existed except this, right here, right now.

His fingers brushed the fringes of my underwear, then caressed my inner thigh again, taunting me. I was burning up, left with no other alternative but to softly beg. “Please!”

“Are you begging me, Isabel?” he asked, his voice seared around the edges.

My lips brushed his and I whispered, “Yes, please, I’m begging you.”

He exhaled a groan, his mouth devouring mine. His hand glided inside my underwear, gently tracing me before his fingersslid inside where they were met with the slippery heat between my thighs.

His breath hitched, and he murmured into my mouth. “You. Are. So. Fucking. Wet.”

My fists curled against him, a tight ball of heat kindling in the center of my belly, breathtaking pleasure scalding my veins. My back arched against his touch, a moan escaping my lips which he tenderly smothered with a long, deep kiss that tasted of flaming desire and utter ruin.

A crescendo was building up inside me, and as his fingers continued to tease me, stroking that throbbing bud of pleasure, gently at first and then more urgently, I teetered on the periphery and whispered.“J’ai envie de toi.”

His mouth moved to the arch of my throat, his breath hot against my skin, his tongue igniting a thousand blazes in its wake. I reached for his cock but he gently moved my hand away. “Later,” was all he said, and then softly, “You first.”

I wanted to touch him, and frantically undid a few buttons on his shirt, slipping my hands inside, feeling his skin against mine, his heartbeat pulsing beneath my palm. He reacted to my caress with a shallow groan, his lips grazing my ear as he whispered. “I want to feel you come.”

And with that he filled me with two fingers deep inside, his thumb circling my clit, strong and gentle at the same time, the rhythm never wavering. A rush of unfathomable bliss flooded me, like pulling a loose thread and unraveling all the coiled tension wrapped around my insides.

I shuddered as an orgasm rocked my body. Every sensation, every prickle carving itself on my skin, inside me, gliding slyly to the end of every nerve ending and exploding into my toes and fingertips. Very slowly the fire in me tapered down to glowing embers.

We stood very still for a while, Roman’s lips gently brushing my cheek, my jawline, my neck as he waited for me to come down from that searing high. Voices in the foyer seeped into our secret space, yanking us back into the present.

Roman pulled his fingers out of me but they still lingered in my hot, wet folds, lazily indulging. I closed my eyes, relishing the thrill now pilfering my senses. I knew if his fingers remained it wouldn’t take long for the heat to ignite into a blazing fire again.

His head lowered, his lips barely touching mine. “I want to taste you, I want to watch you come again and again, and again.”

And just like that, flames rushed through my veins, his lips blistering my skin. He gently entered a finger inside me again, my walls clenching around his touch. “I’m going to put light pressure on a spot, and when you feel something you tell me, okay?”

I nodded deliriously. “What am I supposed to…OH MY GOD.”

Roman’s breath was hot on my cheek, “There you are. When I wake this small spot, it will become very sensitive, and when I’m inside you it will take you places you can’t even imagine.”

It left me breathless, my skin bristling with ice and heat. When his fingers reluctantly slithered away from me, our eyes locked and I was at the end of my wits. “Why are you stopping?”

“That’s not for here,” he said as he took a strained breath. “That’s for when we’re more comfortable, when I can feel your skin against mine, and when I’m inside of you.”

He pushed his two fingers glistening with my essence into his mouth, savoring it. Then kissed me again, sharing my taste. When I remembered to breathe again, I begged him. “Stop. You’re driving me insane.”

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