Page 83 of Sweet Addiction
Rome may put on a cocky front for the world, but he needs the reassurance as much as I do.
“About you?” I ask, pulling him closer. “Never.”
The last bit of tension in his shoulders leaves him, and he drops his forehead to mine. “That’s a big word,principessa.”
“I’m an author, Beneventi. Fists might be your weapon of choice, but words are mine.”
“Fuck, Dillan.” His gaze locks with mine. “Do you have any idea how much I need you? More than I should. More than anything or anyone I’ve ever wanted.”
“You have me, Rome.” I unbuckle his belt and tug it free from his jeans.
“Dillan...” He tugs my shorts down my legs and drags a finger over the lace of my thong, his heated gaze growing impossibly heavy. His hands grip my hips, squeezing. Fingers run under the strings sitting high on my hips before quickly snapping them and ripping my thong free from my body.
Shit. That’s hot.
“So fucking pretty.”
Rome’s mouth hovers over mine, his muscles strung tight, a battle waging behind his eyes until he finally lets go, decision made, and pulls me against him. His tongue presses into my mouth, and my body arches against his. He tastes like peppermint and need, and I swear I’ll never get enough.
Not when he’s like this.
Not now that he’s mine.
His hand slips between my thighs, and with the first delicious stroke of my sex, his groan turns fierce and feral. “Fuck... Dillan.”
My name on his lips sounds so delicious, I can taste it, and I ache for more.
His tongue tangles with mine.
Fighting for a dominance I’m more than happy to submit to.
I wrap my leg around his waist and rock my hips against his hand, searching for more. Searching for relief. For release. For a closure and a beginning.
“Rome,” I whimper, so damn needy. My fingernails bite into the strong muscle above his shoulders while desire beats in my ears like the cadence of a marching band. “I need...”
“I know what you need,” he vows against my mouth, rough and ragged. Sheer perfection. His fingers slide and tease, circling my pulsing clit. “But I’ve got to get you ready to take me.”
God, that sounds like heaven.
“Yes,” I hiss, gripping him so tightly, I’m afraid I’ll draw blood.
“You want me to taste this pretty pussy,principessa? You want to come on my tongue before you come on my cock?” he asks, punctuating the question with two fingers sliding inside me. Stretching me.
His tongue flicks my lips. “Or should I fuck you first, then lick your cunt clean until you’re begging me to fuck you again?”
Oh, holy shit.
He licks into my mouth, holding me hostage in his arms with his words and wicked promises, and I moan, long and deep and desperate.
My body threatens to burst into flames as I ride his hand, holding him closer.
Something falls from the table behind me, but we don’t stop.
He kisses me in time to the rhythm of his hand, and I take it. Take him. My body tightens and squeezes and begs for release until he curls his fingers against my walls and presses down on my clit with his rough thumb.
I circle my hips as my body flushes and fights, desperate for more.
“So close,” I pant.
