Page 19
Roman goes completely still.
For several seconds, he says nothing.
“Princess.” His voice drops lower. “You should’ve told me.”
“You didn’t ask.”
His jaw tightens, and his hand leaves my hair to cup my cheek instead. The change is so immediate that my pulse skips.
“I’m asking now.” His thumb brushes slowly over my skin. “Are you sure you want this?”
I nod.
“Words.”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
His eyes hold mine. “Then we go at your pace.”
He kisses me again, but this time the hunger is tempered by something slower. His hands move over me without rushing, giving me time to understand every new sensation before he introduces another.
When his palms slide beneath my shirt, my breath catches.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
His mouth curves slightly. “Good.”
He lifts my shirt over my head, and suddenly I’m standing in front of him in my bra, more exposed than I’ve ever been with a man.
For one terrifying second, I want to cover myself.
Then I see the way Roman looks at me.
Like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
His hands settle at my waist before moving upward, slowly enough that I feel every inch of the journey. When his thumbs brush over my nipples through the thin fabric of my bra, a gasp escapes me.
I’ve touched myself before. I know my own body.
But this is nothing like that.
Roman watches every reaction as if he’s learning me, adjusting whenever I tense and lingering whenever I lean into his touch.
“That feel good?”
“Yes.”
“Then let me show you what else does.”
Roman kisses me again as he guides me backward toward the couch. The backs of my knees meet the cushions, and I sit without taking my eyes off him.
He lowers himself in front of me.
My pulse jumps.
His hands slide slowly up my thighs, and this time I know enough to recognize the anticipation curling low in my stomach.
