Page 135 of Rebound
The words are soft and rough, reverent like he’s worshipping me. I’m moving my hips back to meet his every thrust. The slow drag and pull of his cock is driving me crazy and I’m making sounds I’ve never made before. I’m mindless with need, urging him to go faster.
Roman moans. “I love how greedy you are for my cock, wife.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to fuck me for hours,” I gasp. “You can’t blame me for being greedy.”
Roman chuckles, biting at my shoulder. “I’ve been waiting to fuck you for two years, Lavinia. There hasn’t been anyone else. I think you can wait a few hours.”
Oh, fuck. Before my brain can catch up to his words, Roman’s rolling his fingers over my clit in perfect, circular motions that have me seeing stars. I come harder than I’ve come in my sexually active life or tonight.
My pussy clenches around him so painfully I trap him inside my body. I might’ve passed out for a minute or completely zoned out in the bliss of the best orgasm of my life. When I come back to myself, Roman’s thrusts have grown erratic.
“I’m going to come inside your perfect little pussy, wifey. I’m going to mark you as mine and everyone’s going to know you belong to me. Every whimper, every sound you make, every single inch of this perfect body will be mine. Fuck, you don’t know what it does to me to call you mine when I wanted it so desperately for so many years.”
He comes with a deep groan, filling me with the heat of his release. Roman falls forward, his harsh breathing filling my ears. His body covers mine completely, pushing me into the mattress and making it hard to breathe. Although, who needs to breathe. I want to lie right here and never move.
It might be minutes or hours before Roman shifts, turning me over and carrying me into the bathroom and into the shower. He switches on the controls, turning so he’s under the spray of the shower while the water warms up.
We don’t speak as we clean up, though words aren’t needed in this moment. We speak with our hands, reverently touching each other, memorizing what it feels like to be here together. Roman runs his hands over my body, taking great care to wash every part. I do the same, taking my time to clean him, massaging his scalp as I wash his hair.
We step out of the shower as almost new people. He kisses me softly as he dries me off and I can’t stop giggling. I’m delirious with happiness.
“I’m going to change the sheets while you get dressed, okay?”
I nod easily, clutching the towel against my chest. With one last kiss, he walks out of the bathroom, not even bothering with a towel. I lean back a little to admire his perfect ass until he disappears from view.
I finish drying off, pee, and change into a new pair of underwear. There are little red bruises around my neck and chest from where Roman sucked and bit my skin, and I swear there’s a glow about me.
After pulling on a large t-shirt and pyjamas, I do my skincare as I stare at myself in the mirror. It’s either the hundreds of dollars’ worth of skincare finally working, or it’s the mind-blowing sex. My guess is the latter.
I walk out of the bathroom to see that Roman’s changed the sheets and he’s brought in a tray of food. He’s also, sadly, pulled on a pair of pyjama pants. No t-shirt though, so I’m still rewarded with the sight of his bare chest and tattoos.
I’ve been waiting to fuck you for two years, Lavinia. There hasn’t been anyone else.
I get into bed, crossing my legs as Roman hands me a bowl of pasta.
“I need a lot of carbs after that workout,” I say.
He kisses my temple, settling in next to me. For a minute, we eat in silence, our thighs touching under the blanket. Occasionally, Roman reaches out to brush my hair back, or run the back of his fingers along my arm or jaw or cheekbone. Like he’s making sure I’m real.
“Did you mean it?” I ask, when I’m halfway through my bowl. “About waiting for me for two years?”
I glance at him nervously, expecting him to laugh it off and say it was said in the heat of the moment.
Roman looks at me, leaning in until he fills my vision, and I can see his eyes clearly. “I meant. Every. Single. Word. Two years is nothing. I think about you every day. Every moment. No matter where I am or what I’m doing. You’re the only thought in my mind. You consume me so thoroughly there’s no room for anything or anyone else. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I make a sound in the back of my throat, though no words come out.
“I’ve never…” I shake my head. “I’ve never had this before.” The words are almost a guilty whisper.
Roman smirks, kissing my forehead. “Neither have I, baby. We’ll navigate this together.”
I give him a small smile, willing myself not to cry at the thought of being wanted with so much passion and desperation. It’s the kind of thing I read about in books and to have it in real life almost feels like a dream.
There’s a memory perfectly frozen in my mind from when we were sixteen. I keep it locked away in my heart and I always used to pull it out and admire it from every angle when I felt lonely, whether I was in a relationship or not.
It’s Roman and me, in the pool house at my parents’ house two days before Christmas. I’m in a red dress with a red bow around my hair and Roman is wearing black dress pants and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Even at sixteen, he was the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen. He’s lying back on the bed and I’m sitting on the edge because I’m nervous.
I’ve heard all the rumours about his many girlfriends, even back then, and I’ve never even had a boyfriend.
