Roman (Cold Fury Hockey #7)(45)
My heart stops its frantic thump and immediately starts to melt over his words and the way he’s solemnly watching me right now.
“Okay,” I whisper to him, my hands immediately going to the hem of my sweater. I have a brief glimpse of Roman relaxing back into his chair while his eyes roam over me before it’s blocked by my sweater coming off.
I’d worn a simple black cotton camisole under the sweater and hadn’t bothered with a bra because I don’t have the biggest boobs in the world. But I can feel my nipples are erect and feel oversensitive against the soft material covering them. I leave the cami alone, though, instead choosing to walk across the room to where Roman sits.
His eyebrows rise in surprise as I step between his legs before turning to sit on one of his strong thighs, using him as a perch. Leveraging myself with one hand on his chest—which is warm, rising and falling deeply under my touch—I bend over to daintily pull first one, then the other sock off.
Once my socks are off, I rise off his leg just enough to push my leggings past my hips and thighs, and when they get to my knees, I sit back on his leg so I can pull them all the way off without having to hop around like a fool.
“I like having you undress like this,” Roman says in a deep rumble. “So close to me I can feel your heat.”
My head turns to look at him, and I wish I hadn’t, because his expression is so fiercely needful that I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be able to fulfill his fantasies.
I need space to calm my frantic pulse, so I push off his leg, lifting a hand and letting my fingertips trail briefly against his jaw as I walk to the bed. Although I can’t see him, I feel the weight of Roman’s eyes pinned to my ass, which is barely covered by a pair of dove-gray satin panties with lace trim.
So of course I sway my hips as I cross to his bed and then climb up on top, pushing the comforter that’s balled up on the lower half of the bed all the way off so there’s nothing obstructing Roman’s view of me.
I come to my knees as I turn toward Roman, whose eyes are lasered onto me. I slide my fingertips up my thighs, past my hips. My intent is to give him a slow show, drive him crazy in incremental moments. Build him up until he becomes wild for me, just as I sensed he was out on the couch.
I grab the edge of my camisole that comes down just past the edge of the waistband of my panties and pull it up a few inches so he gets a peek at my stomach. With my other hand, I let my fingertips flirt with the satin covering the front of my mound, snaking them up to the elastic edge. Roman’s eyes glitter in the lamplight and he sits up in his chair, leaning forward as if to get a better view.
My further intent is to dive my hand down, burrow it deep inside and let Roman imagine what my hand is doing underneath that satin, but I’m shocked when he lunges from the chair and in one large stride he’s up on the bed and I’m underneath him, flat on my back. My breath huffs out in surprise, my legs automatically parting for him to settle against me. Roman looms over me, his large body tensed as his hands press down into the mattress at my shoulders.
“I thought you wanted to watch me,” I whisper as I bring my hands to his chest, where I can feel the thunder of his heart against my palms.
“I did,” he growls, looking slightly vexed. “But apparently have I no fucking self-control where you’re concerned.”
“Well, if it helps,” I tell him with a brash smile, “it’s a total turn-on the way you jumped on me.”
His return smile is a little stiff, and I realize that he’s still struggling for some control. He pushes off the mattress, coming to his knees, and reaches into his back pocket. Out comes his wallet and he fishes out a condom, tossing the wallet to the floor and the foil packet onto the bed next to me.
Roman sits back on his haunches and studies me a moment, his eyes slowly traveling down to my chest. He reaches out with one hand, turns it, and grazes a knuckle over one of my nipples. A punch of lust hits me hard between my legs and I moan over the slight touch, silently begging for him to give me more.
His gaze slowly travels back up and he leans over me, palms now to the mattress by my head. Roman’s head descends and my mouth is already open when his meets mine. He kisses me so deeply my entire body shudders, and I vaguely feel his hands slide from the bed to my shoulders, fingers moving inward to the base of my collarbone.
I’m sunk so deep into our kiss, his tongue stroking mine with surety, that I barely comprehend his hands grabbing onto the neckline of my camisole.
R-i-i-i-p!
Roman rears up off me and I’m stunned to see him looking down at me in triumph with my cotton camisole split down the middle and now lying at my side.
“I can’t believe you just ripped my cami,” I say indignantly, although truth be told, that was hot as hell.
That scoundrel grins at me, then his eyes slide down to my breasts, followed by his hands as they palm each one before squeezing them. “Told you I have no control where you’re concerned.”
“You owe me a new cami,” I say on a gasp as he pinches a nipple, causing me to moan his name. “Roman.”
“I like that,” he murmurs as his eyes rise back up to mine. “You moaning my name. Let’s see how many more times I can get you to do that.”
A vicious cramp of desire hits me square between the legs and I silently beg him to rip my panties off the same exact way.