Page 33 of Roark
With one hand, he spread her pussy lips until she was totally bared to him. If there were ever a time to be self-conscious, now was definitely it, because Roark certainly was looking at her as if he were surveying a new purchase. When he lifted his gaze to her, all she could see was fiery passion brimming in them. His lips were parted, and his breathing had picked up. He licked his lips this time, a motion that made her squirm beneath him when she imagined that tongue touching her very soon.
Soon wasn’t fast enough, but when he finally lowered his head and did a quick lick of her clit, she almost jumped up off the floor it felt so damned good. Using his other arm, he grabbed her left thigh, lifting her leg and dropping it over his strong shoulder. Easing his other hand from where it still held her plump folds open, he pushed her right thigh back further and then he dove in, licking and sucking her as if she were a delectable meal that had been placed before him.
Tamika grabbed her breasts, kneading them in the same way he had, tweaking her nipples and then finally she lifted her hips to thrust against his hungry mouth. Pleasure plowed through her so forcefully she gasped and moaned louder than she intended.
“Let it out, darlin’. No need to be shy,” he grumbled when he pulled away from her momentarily.
Shy was never something Tamika had claimed to be, but she could admit she was trying to hold back with Roark. A part of her didn’t want him to see how very good everything he did made her feel. The thought of doing so made her feel too vulnerable, something she’d never wanted to feel again, but it was getting harder and harder to hold on to that restraint. It just felt too damn good.
He licked her hungrily, thrusting two fingers inside her now, pumping and sucking her simultaneously. She was so wet she felt her essence trickling down the crease of her ass. There was going to be one hell of a wet spot on this blanket when she got up, but Roark didn’t act like he cared. To the contrary, he eased his fingers out of her, rubbing them along her slit, moaning and whispering how wet she was and how much it turned him on.
“Now,” she whispered. Her eyes were closed at the time, her hands still cupping her breasts, legs spread in the position he’d put them in, and she was ready. Oh, sweet goodness, was she ready.
“Yeah, now is good,” he replied and eased her leg down from his shoulder.
She opened her eyes to see him move away from her and reach for the condom packet. Normally, she liked the act of smoothing a condom down a man’s rigid length, but her body was so taut with desire if she moved again before climaxing, she was certain something might break.
Roark must’ve sensed her desperation, because when he came between her legs this time, he lifted them both, pulling her closer to him as he rested her ankles on his shoulders. With his palms flat on the floor on either side of her, he positioned his dick, aimed and thrust deep into her in one quick push. He grunted and she screamed, and the preamble was over.
He rode her like he owned her, stuffing his thick dick so deep inside her Tamika knew he was touching essential organs. This wasn’t lovemaking; it wasn’t even sex—Roark Donovan was fucking her in a way she’d only dreamed of being fucked before, and she loved every second of it. Minutes later when he turned her over and put her on her knees, she backed her ass up against his dick and felt another sting of pleasure as he slapped both ass cheeks before pounding into her again. Her breasts bobbed with the motion, and his groans grew louder. Her screams had subsided a bit, but that was because they’d been exchanged with her repeating his name, as if verbally cementing the fact that he was owning her pussy at this moment.
“You come first,” he grunted and pulled out of her quickly.
She was about to say something, but his hands were spreading her cheeks wide before she felt his lips on her pussy once more. He pumped his fingers into her and licked until she was trembling, her thighs quivering around his head, chest heaving as she struggled to breathe through the onslaught of pleasure.
“Yessssss,” she moaned and felt that quick jolt of realization before her release seized her body.
“Yes, sweetness, that’s what I want.” When he finally pulled his face away from her, Tamika thought she was going to topple over, because every ounce of energy had been licked, sucked and drawn from her body. Instead, she realized Roark was switching their position once more. “I want you to make me come now.”
He lay on his back and pulled her on top of him. Tamika shook her hair back from her face and prepared to take the driver’s seat for the first time since she’d come into his room. She lowered herself onto his dick and marveled once again at how well he fit buried deep inside her. Then she began to ride, staring down at Roark as his hands reached up to grab her breasts, his face contorting with the sexiest sex face she’d ever seen.
“Bring it home, sweetness. Bring it all the way home.” The last word lodged in his throat as she circled her hips, lifted off him until only the tip of his dick was still inside her and then slammed down onto him again. Her rapid pumps from that moment on led to him gripping her breasts tightly and, for the first time since they’d begun, him moaning her name in that deep, rich, accented voice. When his dick ceased pulsating inside her, Tamika eased herself down and was going to roll off him, but his arms went around her waist tightly and he pulled her closer for a sultry kiss that sealed the deal for her—Roark Donovan was the best sex she’d ever had, and no matter what happened from this point on in their lives, she’d never forget that.
Part II
“Revenge triumphs over death; love slights it; honor aspireth to it; grief flieth to it.”
—Francis Bacon
Chapter 11
She’d extended him the courtesy of going into the bathroom first, so now, Roark sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for her to come out. He’d pulled on a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt and allowed himself a few moments to think about what had just happened.
Pleasure still simmered in his blood; he could feel it easing along his veins, filling his body with an odd sort of satisfaction. It wasn’t the act of sex itself—he was certain of that, because he’d had lots of presumably good sex in his life. No, this was different. Stronger, more intense, a desire embedding itself deeply inside him. More notable was the fact that it was unlike anything he’d ever felt after sex with any other woman, and he desperately wanted to know why. Roark didn’t like not having all the answers. He’d been struggling with that daily in regard to his mother’s death, and now, this. Lifting his hands, he scrubbed them over his face and took a deep breath.
The day had gone by and now it was almost ten at night. He wondered if she’d be hungry when she came out. They’d had a pretty big lunch, but then they’d also had a very trying afternoon and then…the sex. Dorianne would be gone for the night, but he’d instructed her to leave the food she’d prepared in the refrigerator and they’d reheat it when they were ready. She hadn’t seemed happy about that, but she hadn’t reprimanded him for skipping a meal, either. The look on the older woman’s face said she’d wanted to do exactly that.
When it seemed like Tamika was taking a very long time in the bathroom, Roark stood. He walked to the other side of the bed and reached up to close the curtains at the window. He’d remembered to draw the ones in the sitting area closed before Tamika had arrived, which was a good thing, since they’d ended up together in that area instead of coming to the bed.
Katrina had never liked sex with the lights on, nor would she have ever agreed to sex on the floor. A smile ghosted his lips as he recalled pulling the blanket out of the closet and placing it on the floor in front of that fire. He hadn’t known where that idea had come from, but something had told him Tamika would be totally down for the setting he’d provided. As memories of their sexual escapade floated through his mind, he realized in the end he hadn’t appreciated the setting as much as the woman who’d made it complete.
Damn, she’d looked fucking phenomenal in the firelight, on her knees as he’d pounded into her and then as she’d ridden him. His body tightened with the thoughts, and he shook his head. “Phenomenal” didn’t seem like an adequate enough word.
“Full disclosure.”
Her words had him spinning around to see her standing in the doorway of the bathroom. She was wearing one of the heavy velvet robes that hung in the bathroom. It was black, with the Donovan insignia in gold on the right side. “Are you hungry? Do you want to go down and get something to eat first?” The questions came out in a jumble of words that made him feel ridiculous. He’d talked to women after having sex with them before, so acting like a nervous novice was way out of character for him.
She switched off the light in the bathroom and stepped further into the room, stopping before she could reach the end of the bed. With her hands buried in the pockets of the robe that was too big for her, she shook her head. “No. I want to get this out of the way.” She cleared her throat and then began. “I lived with Colin Hopkins for two years.”
