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As aftershocks rip through her, I slide the vibrator from her body, turning it off.
We fall together, tangled in a sweaty heap, gasping for breath. Shaking.
"I love you, Mila." I press kisses everywhere I can reach, so fucking in love with her that I can't breathe through it. "Jesus, baby. I love you."
"Roman," she whimpers, clinging as if I'm her world. In this moment, I think I might be.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Mila
"How are you feeling, baby?" Roman asks me, running his fingers through my hair.
"Good," I mumble into his chest, tangling my legs with his until I feel completely surrounded by his big body. "A little sore."
"Is it bad?" he asks, worry in his voice.
"No," I promise. It's really not bad at all. I feel stretched and a little achy, but it's a good kind of ache. I've never felt anything like that before. I was so full. I've never felt closer to him than I did when he was in me. God, the feeling was incredible. I didn't want it to end.
He took care of me afterward, just like he does every time he fucks me. He didn't say anything the entire time he cleaned me up in the shower, but his hands never left my body, and his lips never strayed far from mine. The silent, reverent way he touched me made me feel as if he was worshipping me again.
As soon as he had me dried off, he sat me on the chaise in the bedroom and changed the sheets before picking me up and carrying me back to bed. He's been whispering sweet little words to me ever since. I still feel sluggish, intoxicated by him and the adoring way he cares for me.
God, I love him.
"Did you like it?"
"Yes," I breathe.
"Good." His voice drops low, deepening. "You were so fucking hot, coming and screaming my name while I was buried in that perfect ass. There's no way I'm going to be able to keep from taking that little hole again."
"Okay," I whisper, heat rolling through me. I don't know how it's possible to want him again this much already, but I do. I don't think I ever stop wanting him. As soon as he isn't inside me or on top of me, I want him back. The craving is endless.
"I love you, Mila."
"I love you too."
"So much you could float away?" he asks, a smile in his voice.
"Yeah," I say, a happy smile flitting across my face. I love when he's playful and teasing like this. Since coming to Los Angeles, he's been so intense and focused. I live for the moments when he lets go of that stress and worry and really relaxes. Seeing him happy is incredible.
He wraps his arms around me and hugs me before he starts running his fingers through my hair again. I hum in contentment and listen to the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath my ear.
"I have to tell you something," he whispers a few minutes later, pulling me back from the edge of sleep.
"Hmm?"
'While you're in Sacramento, we're going to do something here. Something big."
"Okay," I whisper, nervous butterflies kicking into flight in my stomach at the seriousness of his tone.
"If it goes well, all this shit will be over by the time you get back."
"That's good." Maybe then he'll stop worrying about me so much and can relax a little. I want that for him so much. No one deserves peace of mind more than he does.
"I'll be finished with the task force once this is over," he says quietly.
"What does that mean?"
