Breathe You In (Sweet Torment 1)

It all happened so fast I could barely keep up. He wrapped his arms around my thighs and pulled me closer, thrusting his tongue even deeper. I arched and moaned his name.

“You’re wet, sweetheart,” he said, then licked madly at my clit. “You like sucking me off?”

“Yes,” I cried to the ceiling. “So much.”

He growled in approval and continued to devour me. Yanking me so close that his whole face was buried between my legs, he ravaged my sensitive flesh. Eating at me like a wild man tasting sugar for the first time.

Tremors surged through my body, and I didn’t even have time to prepare for the orgasm, it just hit me—hard and fast.

I clawed at his shoulders and sobbed his name as wave after wave of ecstasy overtook me. My whole body shuddered and convulsed against him as he didn’t stop, just kept drawing it out.

“Roman…” I said on a strangled whisper.

He slowed his pace, allowing me to catch any breath I could and come down slowly. He kissed my inner thighs all the way to my knees.

I hadn’t really registered that my eyes were squeezed shut and we were on the rug in front of the fire until Roman picked me up. Cradling me into his arms, he walked to the bed and laid me down.

“Look at me,” he softly said, stroking my hair.

When I did, I saw nothing but intense, dark eyes staring back at me. He looked at my face for a long time, as if trying to decide how to say whatever was going through his mind.

Finally, he ran his thumb over my mouth and whispered, “You’ve changed everything, sweetheart.”

Chapter Fifteen

Your approval rating is up five percent,” I said, reading the front page of the paper as I puttered around the kitchen. “Seems a lot of people like you.” I winked at him across the island.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Amy. I’m a likeable guy.” He smiled, and I had to check the urge to sigh.

Seeing him standing there in his steel-gray three-piece suit and dark-blue tie was enough to make a girl want to play hooky. But after spending the whole weekend with him at his house, it was time to get back to the real world. Which I kind of wanted to whine about because damn it, the man had been more open and relaxed in the past forty-eight hours than at any other time since I’d met him. I didn’t want it to end, mostly because I didn’t want things to change.

I opened the fridge and took an apple out of the bottom drawer, along with some turkey and mayo, and set it all on the island.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

I grabbed a knife and bread. “Making you a sandwich for lunch today.”

Leaning against the counter drinking his coffee, he looked so comfortable. Happy to take the morning slowly. The weekend had been beyond amazing. We’d slipped out of the campaign events the second Roman had shaken all the hands he’d needed to, and spent most of what little free time there was lounging around and cuddling. The Giants had played on Sunday, and during halftime we’d had our own little entertainment show.

At some point over the last few weeks, Roman had bought a few outfits and necessities for me to keep at his house, a pleasant surprise. However, I hadn’t been home all weekend, and likely had two roommates waiting to hear the details about that, and how serious my relationship with Roman was. Problem was…I didn’t know what to tell them.

“You don’t need to make me lunch, sweetheart.”

“I like to.” I glanced up at him. “Unless it bothers you?”

“Not at all.”

“Packed lunches are just comforting sometimes. Lauren used to pack mine.” The moment the words left my mouth, I couldn’t believe I’d said them. I hadn’t talked about her, other than to reference the night she’d died, in a long time. For a brief moment, it was nice to remember the good times. Think of her life instead of her death.

I continued to build the sandwich, and Roman set his cup down and came to stand behind me. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he peeked over my shoulder.

“She sounds like a wonderful sister,” he whispered.

I nodded, and tried to fight the sudden sting behind my eyes. “She was. She took care of me when we were younger.”

“I can tell.” He brushed my hair to the side.

“How?”