Rome sat up, and his hand moved from her shoulders down to her waist. He glanced up at her, and then back down, and his hand began to pull at the fabric of her sweater, easing it upward.
Elise tensed, thinking of her crooked h*ps and the way they didn’t line up quite right. He’d notice it.
He glanced up at her, noticing her stiffness. “You want the light off for now?”
She relaxed a little, nodding. “Please.”
He heaved his body over hers, reaching across to the lamp at the bedside. He clicked it off, and then they were in darkness. She blinked a few times, trying to adjust her eyes to the dimness. The only light that came in peeped in from the blinds, the starlight barely enough to let her make out Rome’s shadow over hers.
Then his hand touched her bare stomach, under her sweater. “Can we take this off?”
She sucked in a breath and nodded, then realized he couldn’t see that. Now she had no choice but to speak. “O-okay.”
“Don’t be afraid, Elise.” His hand stroked her stomach again, the knuckles just barely brushing over her belly button. “I think you’re beautiful.”
Those words, soft and reverent, bolstered her confidence. With a deep breath, she grabbed the edges of her sweater and pulled it over her head, tossing it aside.
His hands immediately began to stroke up and down her rib cage, half exploration, half soothing. “Breathe,” he murmured.
She took in a long, deep breath, and was surprised when his mouth came down on hers again in a tender kiss. She opened her mouth to him, her hands going to his neck and clinging to him as he kissed her and his hand stroked her belly.
Ever so slowly, that stroking hand slid up to rest between her br**sts, his knuckles brushing at her breastbone, back and forth, in a teasing, tantalizing motion that seemed more frustrating than exciting. She arched her back and made a sound of frustration.
In response, his hand moved to the side and gently cupped her breast.
All that pent-up excitement and frustration seemed to burst out of her at once. A sob escaped her throat.
“You okay, baby?” His whisper was soft, understanding. “I can stop at any time if you want.”
She shook her head. She didn’t want that. She wanted him to keep touching her. “I’m fine.” And really, she was. It was just . . . utter relief that he’d touch her so intimately and not shy away. She’d longed to be touched for such a very long time, and the reality was almost more than she could bear.
But she’d bear it . . . because she wanted more. So she clung to him and lifted her mouth for another kiss, and this time Elise was the aggressor, her mouth capturing his and her tongue stroking to brush against his. Her nose brushed against the ring piercing his septum, and even that aroused her.
He groaned and his thumb stroked over her nipple, gently teasing the already tight peak.
The breath exploded out of her again and she cried out against his mouth, her h*ps raising up in an involuntary gesture. She wanted more touch, needed more. She was desperate for it.
But all he did was gently rub that stiff, overstimulated little peak over and over again. “How does it feel, Elise?” he murmured against her mouth.
“G-g-good,” she breathed.
“Just good?”
So, so good. More than good. But her mouth couldn’t form the words. She mewed a protest when he lifted his hand, and tried to drag his mouth back down to hers, but he was shifting his big body.
Then she felt his warm hand cup her other breast, kneading it gently before he began to tease the tip with his fingers once more. She felt his other hand tug at the cup of her bra, pulling it down.
Then she felt his mouth close over her nipple.
She cried out. The sensation felt so overwhelming that she wanted to scream with everything she was feeling. It was too much. It wasn’t enough. She wanted to push his mouth away, she wanted to drag him all over her skin. She wanted him to bite. Her breath came in sharp, rough pants, and his hand and mouth worked on her br**sts, teasing both peaks. She could feel his tongue scrape over her nipple, felt him gently suck on the tip and then worry it with his teeth, just a little.
And god, she ached so much. She felt so, so empty inside. How was it that she could feel so full and supercharged, and yet ache with emptiness at the same time?
“You have the sweetest little br**sts, Elise. God, these ni**les. I could tongue them all night.” His hands pushed her br**sts together and he nuzzled in her cle**age, his lips grazing her breastbone. “You’re so sexy. You sure you want some dirtbag like me touching you?”
She wanted all of him. “Please, please touch me, Rome,” she panted. “I need it.”
He groaned, and his thumbs flicked both of her ni**les at the same time in a gesture that made her cry out with surprise and pleasure. “Unbutton your pants for me. I want to see if you’re wet.”
She sucked in a breath, but her hands went to her jeans, trembling. He continued to tease and play with her ni**les with his hands, driving her wild as she tried to undo her jeans. Her fingers were having a hard time working, her concentration scattered as he continued to touch and tease her br**sts.
Then her jeans were undone and she reached for him again, stroking a hand up one of his strong arms. She loved touching him. For a moment she hated that the lights were off; she wished she could see her hand grazing over his beautiful tattoos. “You’re so warm,” she murmured. So warm and delicious.
“And you’re so soft,” he murmured, and his hand left her br**sts and skimmed down her belly. Then his fingers were grazing at the edge of her panties—her hideous granny panties—and teasing her skin. “Beautiful, soft Elise. Can I touch you anywhere?”
She thought she’d die if he didn’t. “Please,” she whispered again.
His fingers slipped deeper, moving under her clothing, past the waistband of her panties. She felt them graze the crinkle of her pubic curls, and then brush over her mound, cupping it under her clothing.
And Rome hissed. “Damn, you are so wet. Are you that turned on, Elise?”
She whimpered. Oh god, she was so turned on. “Touch me. Please, keep touching me.”
“Baby, I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to,” he said, and she felt his fingers part her flesh, stroking the slick folds and sliding through them. He groaned. “So f**king wet. I want to just bury my face there and eat the hell out of you.”
She gasped, stiffening at the thought.
“Not tonight,” he promised. “Tonight we’re just playing, all right?” And he leaned in and kissed her again, even as his fingers stroked through her wet folds and brushed over her clit. Elise cried out at the touch. That had been the most intense thing she’d ever felt.