The Story of Me (Carnage #2)(25)

“What do you want, Georgia, hmm? My fingers or my cock?” He moves his free hand and begins stroking himself as I watch. “Or do you want something else? Shall I find a toy? Shall I f*ck you with something else so I can sit here and watch you come? What would you like?” Fuck. My mind is racing. I want all of those things. He pushes his finger inside me and the words just jump from my mouth.

“All of it, everything, your cock, your fingers, whatever you want. Fuck me with anything, f*ck me anywhere, Roman, with anything; make me come and make me forget.” He pushes another finger inside and curls them, stroking inside me, right over my G-spot. He presses his thumb down onto my clit at the same time as he slides a finger, or maybe two, into my arse and I’m done. My orgasm rips through me, tears me in half. I call his name, my hips buck and my legs shake. It’s violent, almost painful, and it doesn’t want to stop. Just as the waves turn to ripples, he moves and slides his cock inside me, circling his hips; I feel full and stretched.

“Fuck, Georgia; f*ck, that feels good.” I panic for a few seconds, wondering if I feel different, if I feel hollow inside to him, barren, like something is missing. But the way he’s moving, the noises he makes, the words he says, it must be feeling as good for him as it is for me. He slides, grinds and pushes against me, and I instantly feel another orgasm building. His hands slide under my arse cheeks; he drives deeper and it’s like an explosion as I come again. It’s different from the first, but just as good, and it peaks again as I feel him pulse and explode inside me, his head hovering above, his eyes still locked on mine.

“Baby,” he whispers with his final thrust, his arms giving way as his weight comes down on top of me, our bodies slick and sweaty but still joined. “Shit, Georgia, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” My head spins and my stomach drops; was it that bad? “Are you safe? You on the pill? I’m so sorry. I never do that, never.” Shit. We didn’t use a condom.

“I… it doesn’t matter,” I say, moving in a way that makes it obvious he needs to get off me. He slides out of me and I get up and walk to the bathroom, but he’s right behind me and spins me around by my shoulder.

“What’s wrong? You are on the pill?” I shake my head slowly, and for a few seconds, he looks panicked, then his jaw tenses and his eyes widen.

“I can’t have children,” I whisper quietly. I’ve never said it out loud to another person before. His head tilts to the side and his ice-blue eyes soften their gaze on me.

“What?” He frowns as he speaks. I look down at the floor, and as I try to compose an answer in my head, he leads me by the hand, pulling me back into bed. This time, we get under the duvet and he pulls me into his chest for a cuddle.

“D’ya wanna tell me about it?” I do. Don’t ask me why, but I do, so I take in a deep breath,

“When we…” I struggle for a few seconds.

“You don’t have to, Georgia; I just thought you might wanna talk.” I nod my head against his chest. I would like to talk, but I don’t want to cry. I really don’t want to cry.

“It was the accident. When we…” It’s a stupid thing; I never know how to phrase this statement, not even to myself, in my head. Did we, Sean and I, lose Beau? Or, did I, just me, lose Sean and Beau? Because technically, Sean was still alive when Beau was pulled dead from my womb. “My womb, my uterus, was ruptured during the accident. That’s how my baby died, and then…” My head feels dizzy just talking about this, but I want to explain. I want to say it aloud, to another person. “I had to have an emergency hysterectomy as they couldn’t stop the bleeding.” I think he’s stopped breathing while I’ve been talking; he’s holding me tightly and is absolutely still.

“Fuck, Georgia, I had no idea. That’s just so f*cked.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’m so sorry. I really had no idea.”

We lay wrapped around each other in complete silence for a while, until eventually, we must both fall asleep.





Chapter Eight


I blink a few times before finally forcing my eyes open. The sun is shining behind the blinds at the window and I can smell coffee. I stretch and realise I’m a little bit sore between my legs, and I can’t help but smile. I can hear Roman moving about in my kitchen and my smile gets bigger. It’s like he’s been sent just to help me, and he’s exactly what I need right now; he’s uncomplicated—what you see is exactly what you get with Rome—and he’s a blinding f*ck. I woke up in the night to feel him inside me. He was so gentle, with soft little kisses from his lips, gentle strokes from his fingertips, and neither of us said a word until we came. I sighed his name; he called out mine. I don’t remember him pulling out of my body, because we were still joined when I fell back to sleep.

I reach across to my phone and check the time; it’s eleven am. I wonder if Jim will still be awake, and I shoot off a text anyway.



Deed is dun!!!

XXX



I smile to myself, imagining her reaction. My phone rings just as Roman walks through the door carrying a cup of coffee in each hand. He’s wearing just his boxers, and I can’t take my eyes from his body for a few seconds.

“You gonna get that, George, or just let it ring?”

“Huh?” is all I manage.