Page 41 of The Rose and the Hound (Ashes and Roses #2)

I couldn’t believe she was here. In my very sterile house.

I had always been comfortable in my house.

I led a simple life, much like Rose, but now I found myself a little embarrassed by the blandness and simplicity of it.

No throw cushions, no color, no warmth. Actually, there was warmth.

It had just entered in the form of a small, beautiful, and incredibly unique woman.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here,” I remarked, my voice a lot deeper than I had intended.

“It’s a nice place,” she said looking around with no hint of judgment.

Maybe together, Rose and I could bring some much-needed life to this place.

I never felt anything was missing from my life until I met Rose.

I had flings and short-term relationships but never wanted to invest more.

I’d never cared about what a woman thought of my house or my job, nor had I even recognized that lack of care.

I offered Rose a tour, which she politely accepted, but made the “mistake” of showing her my bedroom first. I’d have to show her the rest of my place tomorrow.

“This is my room,” I said, ushering her in with my hand on the small of her back.

“It’s great,” she replied, turning to look at me.

I should have been a lot smoother, more romantic, but I’d waited long enough.

I gently grabbed her face and lent down for a kiss.

It was slow and soft, but it felt like the beginning of an inferno.

The second kiss was deeper, my arm curled around her, drawing her closer until I was sure she could feel the steady thump of my heartbeat against her ribs.

Her fingers curled into the front of my shirt, the fabric bunching as if she could anchor herself there.

Every shift, every sigh felt deliberate.

There was nothing rushed. We had been circling this for too long for it to be anything but deliberate.

I whispered her name once, in between kisses, and she must have heard the disbelief in it.

How could this woman be real? She was perfect.

I unzipped the back of her dress, and she slipped it from her shoulders, leaving her in just a pink bra and matching panties.

They had to come off too. Seduction be damned; my gift was right here in front of me and I was never good at delayed gratification.

We’d take it slow some other time. In what felt like a split second, I had her completely naked and under me on my bed.

The kissing continued, but she began struggling against me, pushing my face away. Damn it, I’d rushed things.

I stopped and looked down at her, ready to summon the willpower of my ancestors to stop in that moment, but she was smiling.

“This is really unfair. I’ve got nothing on, and you’re still fully dressed.

” She pushed me up enough to begin undoing my shirt buttons.

Because I’m a gentleman, I helped her. The next five minutes were spent kissing and touching.

I put my mouth everywhere and couldn’t stop squeezing the fine ass that had me entranced from the moment I met her.

There would be many gifts of underwear in our future.

Many. Every time I moved my lips or hands, I wanted to move them somewhere else.

When I was squeezing her ass, I’d be hit with the thought of her pussy, and felt compelled to slip my hand from the back to the front.

When I was kissing her delicate neck, I felt her warm, soft breasts on my chest and desperately pulled my mouth away to show my love further down.

My senses were completely flooded. The sight, smell, feel, and taste of her was driving me wild.

And her sounds ... small, muted pants punctuated with soft moans.

I never really thought she’d forgive me, but in my fantasies, this moment was satisfying, a culmination of my desire and obsession with her.

But in reality, it didn’t satisfy my desire.

It made me even hungrier. Every second I spent exploring her made me more frantic.

I pulled back, torn between wanting to push my face in her pussy and get to the main event.

Without a word, I opened my bedside drawer and pulled out a condom.

She smiled and took it from me, opening the package with her teeth and motioning me away with her eyes.

I leaned back, letting her slide the latex over my dick.

Her movements were smooth, and she seemed excited but a little panicky.

I leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You okay?”

“Yes, just hoping it’s good for you ... that you, um, like it,” she replied.

My poor Zahra. Always wanting to please. Fearing rejection had become her default setting, and it broke my heart.

“It’s already the best sex of my life, Zahra, and we haven’t even started.

” I smiled at her reassuringly, and as if on autopilot, she spread her legs wide, her thighs clutching my hips.

I was so hard at that point, I just pushed in.

No direction needed. The relief was almost paralyzing.

In fact, it was paralyzing. I froze, not wanting to move for fear of coming immediately or waking up.

Rose had frequented my dreams lately and my stupid alarm always seemed to screech its protest the moment I reached the good part.

But no. This wasn’t a dream. I was in my bed, inside my Rose.

She pushed her hips up and I immediately began to move.

We began slowly, but not gently. Gentle wasn’t our thing.

We were not the soft, sweet lovebirds who took our time dating and moving slowly.

Our pace intensified, and when I heard Rose’s pants become choppier, I kept the same fast rhythm, grinding against her with every thrust, hoping I could hold out until Rose gave me the greatest gift ever and came on my dick.

I thanked every God who ever existed when she gave me the sweet sound of her gentle moans.

I stared at her face, not even considering how creepy I may have looked.

I wanted to commit this sight to memory. My Zahra, underneath me, wanting me.

Her face was soft, and her eyes were closed.

She spent a few moments zoning out, a gentle smile on her face.

By the time, she’d opened her eyes, I had come so hard I worried about the condom’s structural integrity.

Condoms are a terrific invention. Truly, I was always a fan.

I’d never had an issue with them. But now that I was softening and had to pull out or risk a leak, I hated them with a passion.

We’d have to find another solution because pulling out of my Zahra, even when I was sated, was torture.