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"I'm a big girl, Roman," I remind him, heat in my voice. "I didn't do anything I didn't want to do."
"I know that."
"Do you?" I ask, not sure he does.
He cocks his head to the side, studying me again. He's always studying me. Trying to figure me out. Sometimes, it's maddening.
He reaches out for my hand and uses it to tug me closer to his body. Once I'm pressed up against him in one long line, he dips his head, his mouth landing against mine. "I've had my tongue and my cock buried in you until you screamed for me, Mila," he says against my lips. "Believe me, sweetheart, I'm perfectly aware of how old you are."
I moan and bite his lip, half out of frustration and half out of desire. He drives me crazy with his filthy mouth.
"Do you need me to prove it to you again, baby?" he teases, smacking my ass.
"I'm not kidding, Roman." I run my hands through his hair, tugging forcefully. I can't tear my mouth from his, though. I can't stop kissing him. God, why can't I ever seem to stop when it comes to him? "I don't belong to you. I'm not your responsibility."
"The hell you aren't," he growls, yanking me even closer. Something predatory rolls through his gaze, turning his eyes dark and stormy. The hard ridge of his cock presses into my hip. He pulls my bottom lip into his mouth and then breaks away. Before I can miss him, his mouth is on my neck, and his teeth are in my skin. "You're fucking mine, Mila, and I take care of what's mine." His tone is pure possession. "That pussy, that mouth, that sexy little body…it all belongs to me."
Oh God.
A wave of heat rockets through me, pulling a wordless cry from my lips. His hands go to my ass, and then I'm in his arms, my legs around his waist. My mouth crashes down on his as he grinds me against his cock. I don't care that we're outside, that I'm sore, or that I'm still frustrated with him. I want him here, now, against the rocks.
"I don't belong to you," I breathe into his mouth, denying him, though I think we both know I'm full of shit. There's something so dirty about him staking his claim on me right here on the beach. It's elemental, primal. No one has ever said anything like that to me before. I want to hear it again. I want him to prove it.
"Fuck," he growls, carrying me toward an outcropping of rocks as if he read my mind. He's pissed and turned on at the same time. I love knowing I do that to him. That I can rile him up like that. Knowing that I can make someone so powerful, so strong, come unraveled is intoxicating.
"You drive me fucking crazy," he says.
"So do you," I mumble, ripping through the buttons on his shirt, desperate to feel him against my skin. I lick and bite his neck, grinding against him until he's practically snarling. I'm not gentle, and I don't care. He likes it rough. I think he needs it that way.
Cool air hits my ass as he yanks my dress up.
"Jesus Christ. You don't have panties covering my pussy, Mila," he growls when he realizes I'm not wearing any underwear. He squeezes my ass, playing with my flesh like he can't get enough of it. Half a second later, he's laying me down on the rocks.
I gasp as the cold hits me and then cry out when he drops to his knees in front of me.
"Please, Roman," I whimper, frantic when he doesn't go any further. I'm so turned on it hurts. All day, he's had his hands on my body, teasing me. I can't take any more. I need him to soothe the burn.
Wave after wave of desire crashes through me. It's savage, almost scary in its intensity. I've never felt like this before, like if he isn't on me right this second, I'm going to shatter apart.
"I know, baby." He yanks my dress up higher, exposing me completely.
The cool air and the heat of his gaze hit me, making me cry out again as the dichotomy of hot and cold sends another bolt through me. I bite my hand to stifle my cries as he comes at me.
He shoulders his way in, roughly shoving my legs apart, and then he's on me. He's a combination of rough and wild and sweet and gentle. His hands dig into my hips hard, holding me down. But he's gentle between my legs, licking me softly. I'm so wet I can hear him sliding through my juices.
"Goddamn, Mila. You taste like fucking peaches." He licks me again, going slow, savoring the way I taste on his tongue.
I claw at the rock, digging my heels into his back to push myself closer to his mouth. I need more. "Please," I plead softly. "Please, Roman."
"What do you want, baby?" he asks, spreading me open with one hand. He groans loudly. "You have the prettiest pussy, Mila. It's so fucking pink and perfect. I swear to Christ, I'm already addicted to it." He licks me again, using just the tip of his tongue. "What do you want, baby? Tell me."
What do I want?
"You," I scream the truth, flinging it at him. Tears well in my eyes. The sensations ripping through me are too much, too fierce, and it's still not enough. I want everything he has. I want him stripped as bare as I am. I want him as crazy as he makes me. I want everything I know I'm not allowed to have. I want him embedded in my skin, and I don't want him to stop. Not today, or tomorrow, and not in two weeks.
He groans, the sound so loud it echoes around us. He lunges for me, burying his face in my pussy. He's not gentle this time. He takes me hard, fucking me with his tongue until I'm thrashing beneath him. My hands are twisted into his hair so hard I know it has to be hurting him, but I can't let up.
He moans and growls against my pussy. I can't stop crying out, chanting nonsense as he eats me like he's starving for me. I'm sure the neighbors hear us. The thought excites me. I want them to hear what he's doing to me. I want them to hear every filthy sound he gives me, and every one he rips from my lips.
