Roman (Raleigh Raptors 2)

Just like that, I was turned the fuck on.

My need for her wasn’t dying off or simmering down like I’d assumed it would now that we’d had each other in every position imaginable. It only seemed to grow…and right now my dick was growing right along with it.

“Follow me,” I ordered, taking her hand and tugging her up the stairs.

I pushed open the door to my childhood bedroom, abandoned my slice of pie on the desk, and sent Teagan’s to join it. Then I took her ass in my hands and backed her against the door, shutting it in the process as I kissed the hell out of her.

I buried my tongue in her mouth, taking it with sweeping strokes that varied from deep to shallow, keeping her arching back for more, never settling into a predictable rhythm.

Then I spun her, pushing her against the wall that joined our bedrooms, and lifted so her legs wrapped around my waist.

Her fingers tunneled through my hair, and her thighs clenched as she rocked against me, taking us from make-out session to desperation in a matter of seconds. It was easy to pretend I had the power with Teagan. I was bigger, stronger, and had way more sexual experience, so I knew exactly how to keep her satisfied. But in truth, she was the one who held the reins. She had more power over me in the curve of her smile than I could ever muster over her.

“Fuck, baby,” I groaned in her ear, nipping the lobe between my teeth. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve come in this very room, imagining your hands on my cock? Your tongue in my mouth?”

She’d been my ultimate fantasy—still was, and I’d somehow managed to get her.

A wicked smile curved her beautiful lips. “Really?” She bowed her back and slipped her hand between our bodies, wrapping her fingers around my erection through the barrier of my pants. “Allow me to make that a reality.”

She squeezed lightly, and my knees nearly buckled.

I took her wrist in hand, pulling the temptation of her fingers from my body, and pinned it above her head. “Play nice.”

She pouted. “I thought I was being very nice. Or would you rather have my mouth wrapped around you?” She ran her tongue over her bottom lip.

Holy fucking shit. I knew what that tongue felt like swirling over my tip, sucking on the head of my cock. My heart thundered at the memory.

“I would kill to feel those lips wrapped around my cock,” I whispered, grazing over her mouth with mine.

“Roman,” she groaned.

“But I’d rather have my face between your thighs, eating up that sweet little pussy for dessert.” My mouth watered just thinking about her taste.

She sucked in a breath. “That mouth of yours…”

“You love my mouth.”

“Not when I can’t have it!”

I glanced at the door and lamented the lack of a lock. There had never been locks on the doors at this house. “Who said you can’t have it?”

Her eyes widened as I carried her to the door, then set her down on her feet. Thank God she was wearing ballet flats, because I’d need her to keep her balance. I flicked open the button on her jeans, then unzipped, finding a scrap of silver lace underneath.

“What are you doing?” She asked, her breaths choppy and uneven.

I slipped my fingers past the lace of her thong and found her already dripping wet. “God, you drive me wild.” I thrust two fingers into her tight sheath and covered her mouth with my hand as she moaned. “Shhhh, you know these walls are paper-thin, so if you want my mouth, you’d better keep yours quiet.”

I moved down her body, peeled her jeans and thong along the smooth skin of her thighs, then widened her stance as far as I could with her pants around her knees. Then I had my dessert.

She was sweeter than pie, more satisfying than any meal I could have ever devoured, and I ate at her with quick flicks of my tongue, sucking her clit between my lips as I thrust into her with my fingers.

“Oh my God!” She squeaked, fisting her hands in my hair. “Stop. Stop!”

I froze. Those were words I never pushed past or even tip-toed near. My fingers slid free, and I sat back on my heels.

“Get up here,” she demanded, yanking on my hair for effect.

I stood but swallowed any questions I had. If she wanted to stop, we stopped. It was that simple.

“I’m not going to be the only one with my pants down if we get caught,” she whispered, kissing me deep and sucking her own taste off my tongue.

She undid my jeans and shoved them down my thighs, taking my boxer briefs, too. Then she gave me a wicked smile and leaned over the desk I’d used for my homework as a teenager. She braced herself on her elbows then looked back over her shoulder at me with glazed eyes. “You’d better make it fast, Padilla.”