Page 12 of Roma King
My stunning little firefly glances away, her cheeks turning a vibrant shade of red, and with one sharp thrust of my hips, I slide the tip of my cock inside her—not all the way, and only for a second. I withdraw, pulling out immediately, but I’ve gotten her attention. She sucks in a gasp of air. Her eyes are back on me, and they’re burning. “Oh, Jesus. That’s so cruel,” she says.
I ignore the desperate edge to her voice. “Finish. Tell me what you were going to say. Tell me what you want. Tell me all of it.”
Slowly, with cautious words, she speaks. “I want you to fuck me,” she says. “I want…I want you to play with my ass while your cock is deep inside my pussy. I want your hands on my tits, groping and squeezing me while I ride you. I want your come in my mouth. I want it all over my tits. I want to rub it into my skin, so I can feel you everywhere, all over me, coating every inch of me. I want…”
I growl, thrusting myself a little deeper this time and then wrenching myself away. It’s so, so difficult not to take her. I want to fuck her so hard and so fast right now, but I can’t allow myself to do it. I need her to commit to what she wants from me. I need to hear it, just as much as she needs to say it. Because we both know how hot this will be. We both know how dirty, dark, fucked up and depraved it could and will be, if we’re both honest with each other.
I need her to share her darkest fantasies with me. And once she has, I will reward her by delivering every single one of them to her on a silver platter.
My little firefly makes a small, anxious sound, but I can see it all there in her eyes, boiling just beneath the surface. “Be brave,” I command. “You never have to hide who you are from me. I already see it. I already seeyou.”
She takes a deep breath, visibly drawing her strength together. “I want your fingers in my mouth while you fuck me. I want you to make me fucking scream, Pasha. I want you to hold me down, and I want you to take what you want. I want you to fuck me in my ass. I want your hands inside my panties under the table of every restaurant we ever sit at. I want you to fuck my mouth while I’m on my hands and knees under those same tables. I want people to see. I want…I want people to watch. I want them to watch us. I want them to stand over us, watching your cock slide inside me. I want them to watch you make me come, until I’m screaming your name, Pasha. I want it all. I want everything. I want you.”
If I so much as twitch right now, I will come. Her words are incendiary, lighting me on fire, starting a blaze that quickly catches hold and turns into a roaring inferno. I’m going to give her what she wants. I will give her what she needs, and I will delight in every motherfucking second of it.
But first, I’m going to give her my mouth.
I move downward, and when I lave at her pussy with the flat of my tongue, at last tasting how sweet and how heady she is, I instantly lose all control. I don’t just lick her. I don’t just suck.
I fucking feast on her.
I lose count of how many times I bring her to the boundary line of her pleasure and then reel her back. Four? Five? Seven times? By the end, she’s thrashing around on the mattress like she’s possessed, begging me to let her come; I barely have to breathe on her clit before she’s shuddering, her legs locking up, her head rocking back, and she’s crying out my name as her orgasm rips through her.
She is a sight to behold as she climaxes. The muscles in her stomach flex, taut and beautiful, and her thighs clamp around my head as she drives my mouth down onto her, driving my face down into her pussy as she floods my mouth with the taste of her orgasm. I snarl as I take it. I growl as I suck at her, massaging the swollen bundle of nerves that make up her clitoris, and I revel in every second of it.
There has never been, nor will there ever be anything as satisfying as this.
This woman, grinding her pussy against my mouth, her fingers digging into my hair as she shakes and trembles against me, chanting my name on every outward sigh.
I’ll take her soon. I’ll relish my own pleasure, and I’ll roar as I empty myself inside of her, every single last damn drop. But for now, I look up the length of her body, my tongue slowing, gently teasing small circles over her, and I enjoy every spasm and every sensitive cry that comes out of her as she comes down from her high.
I enjoy the beauty of every single second as she floats back down to earth.
She may be small, but holy fuck is she fierce.
5
ZARA
END OF THE LINE
I’m not breathing.
I’m awake, but I can’t move, and I can’t breathe. Shadows dance in the corners of the bedroom, and for a second it looks like someone’s standing by my door, watching me. A tall, dark, familiar shape that instils both panic and relief in me at the same time. Adrenalin crashes down on me like a wave breaching on a shore, and the weight of it nearly crushes me.
Move, move, move…
Come on!
My fingers respond first, the slightest of twitches, and it’s as if the miniscule movement unlocks the rest of my body, freeing me from the thrall of sleep. I rocket upright in bed, kicking myself away from the tall, dark shadow by the doorway at the same time I pull a burning breath down into my lungs.
“Fuuuck!”My cry echoes out into the hallway and bounces around the silent apartment. The dark outline of the man standing by the door isn’t a man after all. It’s actually the shadow of my old ski bag.I see this and know that I was dreaming, but…I still feel like I’m falling. I still feel like I’m pinned to the mattress, shattering apart as I came.
I suck in another long stream of air and slump forward, holding my head in my hands. What the fuck iswrongwith me? Why the hell am I so freaked? I’ve spent a thousand nights tangled up in my mystery man’s arms, but I’ve never woken and felt so panicked before. The dream was intense. Highly sexual, and incredibly vivid. I try to catch hold of it, snatching at the edges of the dream, trying to figure out why my heart is beating out of my chest so hard, but it’s impossible. As always, the moment I try to hone in on the specifics of the dream, it dematerializes, disintegrating into smoke.
I almost sob with frustration.
It was the same guy. I have no idea what he looks like, but Iknowit was him. I always do. Though all visual cues vanish along with the details of the dream, I’m always left with thesenseof him, and it’s so fierce. Intense. Whoever he is, this man I’ve created inside my head, he is a force to be reckoned with.
