Page 25 of Unexpected Company
He breaks away, looking at me with heavy-lidded eyes.
“You’re so nice to kiss.”
It seems like such a Roman thing to say. Even if I don’t know him well enough to make that statement, it fits with the man I’ve got to know.
His hands roam my chest, lightly tugging at the hair as his lips brush mine, not stealing another kiss, merely hovering there, sharing the air between us.
It’s all too much and not quite enough – this perfect, beautiful man on my lap, his breath sweet against my lips, his warm hands sending tingles along my skin.
Keeping one hand on his ass, I wriggle the waistband of my boxers down beneath my balls, letting my cock spring free.
Roman looks down between us, licks his lips and then lets a string of saliva fall onto my dick. I groan at the sight, my skin burning up with want.
“Touch us both,” he says, lifting his head and searching out my mouth again.
I do just that, lining our cocks up so they’re flush together and then wrapping my hand around the two of us.
“Fuuuck,” I moan, working us together. His cock is hot and velvety smooth against mine and on each upward stroke he cants his hips, fucking into my fist, our cocks sliding together with ease thanks to the mix of precum and saliva coating us.
“More kisses,” he demands.
Our mouths collide, and he edges closer, trapping my hand and our cocks between us. I move as best I can. The two of us, a dance of gyrating bodies and seeking tongues until he tenses, groaning as he comes.
His seed coats my hand and my chest, and the knowledge that he’s marked me, left his scent on me, has my balls drawing tight and my cock pulsing, my cum mixing with his.
Roman sits back, his eyes drifting from my no doubt bruised lips to my chest. His smile is wide, one side of his lips tipping higher than the other.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he says, his eyes locked onto the mess of cum in the dark hair on my stomach.
“Yeah? You like that, sweet thing?”
“How could I not? You’re hot, and you’re covered in my cum. And,” he tugs at the shirt he’s still wearing, “I smell like you. It’s all very primal and…sexy.” Roman winks and falls to the side, playfully making grabby hands for me to join him on the bed.
I want nothing more, but I get up instead, find a hand towel and wipe us both down before discarding it along with my wet boxers, then climb on top of the rumpled covers with him.
Lying on my side, I bring my face close to his. His eyes are heavy, like he’s satiated and ready to drift off into a cum-drunk and happy sleep.
Roman lifts a hand, running it through my beard before bringing his lips to mine. This kiss is different from before – it’s slow and sweet, lazy and warm, making my heart feel like it’s flying. I try to focus only on the physical aspects of the moment and not on the gentle building of genuine feelings towards the guy.
“Hmm, I like this,” Roman says, his hand still languidly stroking my face. “Tomorrow, I’m going to tell you all about my fantasy.”
I chuckle, moving my head back so I can take him in. I want to touch him, to commit every part of him to memory, so I run a finger over one eyebrow and then the other, before moving my fingertip down his button nose and around his pouty lips. He tips them into a smile and I match it with one of my own.
“Sounds good,” I reply.
Roman guides my leg over his hip, and I shuffle closer.
“Perfect,” he whispers, and moments later, his soft, gentle snores fill the air.
It’s not even late. We haven’t eaten dinner and I should at least work out some of my finer plot points before calling it a day. But I don’t – instead, I wrap an arm over him, rest my head against his and let my eyes drift shut, cuddling him a little tighter.
I can’t get enough of holding Roman Otley.
Chapter eleven
Roman
I’m hot, wet and shivering when I wake up. Garrett’s flannel shirt sticks to my skin and the sheets are damp, tangled over my legs.
