Sweet Rome (Sweet Home, #1.5)(44)

“Please…” she moaned again, pressing herself hard against my hand.

“Mol… God… you’re making me f*ckin’ crazy…” I hissed out, biting into her exposed shoulder, trying to calm down.

“Rome… now!” she demanded, which just plain ol’ pissed me off.

Taking her by surprise, I ripped her panties aside and brought her mouth to mine, shutting her the hell up, and impaled her tight hole with my finger. I worked her back and forth, feeling the heat build and the tightness of her inner walls clench.

I broke away from her, and she stared at me, couldn’t take those eyes off me. “Don’t ever tell me what to do,” I said firmly.

Crooking my fingers just right, I skimmed the pad of my middle finger across that soft spot I knew would make her scream, teasing her, making her want more. “Do you hear me?” I barked again, the need to control my girl taking over every cell in my body. At this point, I’d gone too far to hide the real me.

“Yes. Yes,” she moaned, pushing down harder on my finger,

Fuck. She was perfect, a natural fit—openly receptive to my roughness. I’d never allowed myself to be like this with any of my random f*cks, was never sober enough to care enough to try. But right here, right now, it was everything—full and utter disclosure of who I was.

My attention was fixed on Molly’s every sigh, every contraction of her hot center, and the flush covering every inch of her bare, tanned skin. Then those eyes opened and, licking and biting her bottom lip, her hand crept down to my jeans. My cock twitched at the thought of her hand wrapped around the base, stroking the tip, but I froze and croaked painfully, “Mol, no, you don’t—” My words lodged in my throat as her soft hand folded around my dick and gently began to stroke it up and down.

Shit. It felt too good to make her stop.

“Let me take care of you. Let me give you what you need. Please…” she begged, still rolling her damn hips against my hand.

Meeting her eyes, I was lost, blinded by her. There were no sounds apart from our ragged breaths and moans amongst the miles of rural cropland, and nothing else registered but the f*cking insane pleasure we were giving each other. Actually, that was a lie. I was feeling a ton, probably too much to be revealed to my girl right now. I’d never felt anything this real before, and I needed time to digest it myself.

“Ah, Romeo… I…” Molly rode me faster, her * clamping down as I focused on her G-spot with my fingers and her clit simultaneously.

She was burning hot. By her rock-hard nipples, flushed face, and heavy eyes, I knew she was about to come, hard. “Let go, Mol… f*ckin’ let go,” I instructed, and with one more thrust, she cried out loudly. I wanted to devour her screams so I smashed her lips to mine, her hand unrelenting on my cock as she hit her peak.

At the sight of her letting go, my balls tightened and, quickly lifting Mol, I rolled my hips to the side, groaning as streams of cum spread onto the grass beside me. She slowly moved her hand, but I didn’t withdraw my finger from within her, wasn’t ready to. I didn’t want this addicting feeling to end.

The reality of what just happened between us sank in. Mol leaned forward and I kissed and nipped at her damp skin. My finger gently stroked against her clit, her breath hitching when it all became too much, too sensitive.

Leaning back from the safety of my embrace, she smiled shyly. Damn, she was beautiful.

“Hey, Mol,” I whispered, my hand raking through a loose piece of hair in front of her face.

“Hey, you,” she murmured back, but she was giving nothing away. In fact, she was being too shy. I instantly began to panic that I’d been too rough, too aggressive for her.

Fuck, was she hurt?

“You okay?” I asked tersely, every muscle fiber tensed for her response.

Her caramel eyes focused on the ground and shame surged through me—I knew the way I was—no holds barred—was pretty f*cked up, probably too much for someone like Molly to understand.

But then she spoke, almost knocking me to the floor in shock. “More than okay.”

“Look at me,” I snapped out immediately. And f*ck, she did… Right away.

Searching her eyes, I asked, “You liked that? You liked how I spoke to you, how I ordered you?”

She met my intense stare but didn’t say a damn word. Shifting in nerves, I demanded again, “Mol, you did like it… didn’t you?”

Fuck. The thought of losing her crushed me, my voice catching with emotion.

Stroking a finger down my face, her expression filled with affection, she whispered, “I did, Romeo. I-I didn’t know that I’d like it… like that… but… I think we both know I did.”

Muscles stretched, lips spread, and I knew I was f*cking smiling—hell, not smiling, beaming. Needing another chance to touch her, I gripped her hands, waggling my brows, and ran them down my ribs. A questioning smile tugged at her lips.

“Are they all there?” I asked, loving feeling this free—light enough to joke, watching her lips purse in confusion, not following my meaning.

“What?”

“My ribs. Is there one missing?”

Careening forward and holding my waist, she muttered in amusement, “Okay, I think you’ve lost it. You think you’re missing a rib?”