Page 137
Story: Guarded King
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs between heated kisses. “Everything, Chloe. Everything about you. You’re even more beautiful when you have two loads of my cum dripping out of you.”
My heart thrashes against my ribs. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. How can he be so dirty and so tender at the same time?
What we have is incredible. All but the secretive nature of it. As good as we are together, to the rest of the world, there is no us.
A pinprick of uncertainty pierces through the haze of warmth filling me, but I ignore it.
Here, now, Roman belongs to me.
I press against him, and when he pulls back, I twist from under him and roll so that I’m sitting on top.
He gazes up at me, eyes half-lidded, mouth curved in a smile I’ve only ever seen him give me.
I trail my fingertip over his sternum. “My turn.”
“I think I’m dehydrated.”I fan myself as I lie flat on my back. My heartbeat is only just returning to normal after my last orgasm.
“There are bottles of water in the fridge,” he says, splayed out beside me. “I’ll get us some.”
He tenses, like he’s going to get up, but I put a hand on his abdomen to stop him. “I’ll get them.”
I climb out of the bed, and, still feeling a little self-conscious about waltzing through his apartment completely naked, look for something to cover myself up with.
“Here.” He leans over the side of the bed and tosses his discarded shirt to me. “Put that on.”
With a grateful smile, I slip my arms into the sleeves and do up a couple of the middle buttons.
“You look good in my clothes.” His voice is gravelly.
I turn toward him, and find he’s rolled over. He’s lying on his stomach now, chin pressed to his bicep and the sheet barely draped over his ass so that the long, lean line of his back is exposed. The way he’s looking at me, his eyes dark and possessive, kicks my heart into overdrive.
A faint smile plays on his lips. “What?”
It isn’t until he speaks again that I realize I’m staring. He looks so relaxed, so content just to be in this moment. Suddenly, I want to capture it, to hold it close when doubts about what we’re doing creep in. Those times when I worry that all of this will dissolve, and I’ll be left with nothing but memories.
It’s happened more than once since he told me about his history with Katherine. After being so thoroughly betrayed by his wife, would Roman even consider a permanent relationship?
And as painful as that thought is, I can’t imagine I’ll ever want to forget seeing him like this.
“Do you have pencils? Paper?”
He starts to push himself up, but I throw out a hand to stop him.
“Please don’t move.”
He arches his brows, but without argument, he settles again. “In my office.”
My heart races, and excitement unfurls in my stomach. “Don’t move. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I dart out of the room and scrounge up a blank notepad and pencil in his office. On the way back, I detour to the kitchen and snag a couple of water bottles from his huge fridge. When I return, I find him just where I left him.
After putting the bottles on the side table, I fling myself back onto the bed.
He frowns over at me. “What are you doing?”
I bite my lip and look back at him through my lashes. “Memorializing.”
“Memorializing,” he repeats quietly.
My heart thrashes against my ribs. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. How can he be so dirty and so tender at the same time?
What we have is incredible. All but the secretive nature of it. As good as we are together, to the rest of the world, there is no us.
A pinprick of uncertainty pierces through the haze of warmth filling me, but I ignore it.
Here, now, Roman belongs to me.
I press against him, and when he pulls back, I twist from under him and roll so that I’m sitting on top.
He gazes up at me, eyes half-lidded, mouth curved in a smile I’ve only ever seen him give me.
I trail my fingertip over his sternum. “My turn.”
“I think I’m dehydrated.”I fan myself as I lie flat on my back. My heartbeat is only just returning to normal after my last orgasm.
“There are bottles of water in the fridge,” he says, splayed out beside me. “I’ll get us some.”
He tenses, like he’s going to get up, but I put a hand on his abdomen to stop him. “I’ll get them.”
I climb out of the bed, and, still feeling a little self-conscious about waltzing through his apartment completely naked, look for something to cover myself up with.
“Here.” He leans over the side of the bed and tosses his discarded shirt to me. “Put that on.”
With a grateful smile, I slip my arms into the sleeves and do up a couple of the middle buttons.
“You look good in my clothes.” His voice is gravelly.
I turn toward him, and find he’s rolled over. He’s lying on his stomach now, chin pressed to his bicep and the sheet barely draped over his ass so that the long, lean line of his back is exposed. The way he’s looking at me, his eyes dark and possessive, kicks my heart into overdrive.
A faint smile plays on his lips. “What?”
It isn’t until he speaks again that I realize I’m staring. He looks so relaxed, so content just to be in this moment. Suddenly, I want to capture it, to hold it close when doubts about what we’re doing creep in. Those times when I worry that all of this will dissolve, and I’ll be left with nothing but memories.
It’s happened more than once since he told me about his history with Katherine. After being so thoroughly betrayed by his wife, would Roman even consider a permanent relationship?
And as painful as that thought is, I can’t imagine I’ll ever want to forget seeing him like this.
“Do you have pencils? Paper?”
He starts to push himself up, but I throw out a hand to stop him.
“Please don’t move.”
He arches his brows, but without argument, he settles again. “In my office.”
My heart races, and excitement unfurls in my stomach. “Don’t move. I’ll be back in a minute.”
I dart out of the room and scrounge up a blank notepad and pencil in his office. On the way back, I detour to the kitchen and snag a couple of water bottles from his huge fridge. When I return, I find him just where I left him.
After putting the bottles on the side table, I fling myself back onto the bed.
He frowns over at me. “What are you doing?”
I bite my lip and look back at him through my lashes. “Memorializing.”
“Memorializing,” he repeats quietly.
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