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“Divine timing?” Angela suggested.
“Perhaps,” Roman said with a small smile.
The look in his eyes damn near took her breath away. He was in love with her. And she was in love with him. She had no doubts about that. But why couldn’t she tell him? She wanted to. Now was the perfect opportunity to tell him how wonderful she thought he was. How brave and kind and strong. But her tongue felt glued to the roof of her mouth.
“I’m sorry I can’t say it,” she whispered, ducking her head like a coward.
Roman surprised her by chuckling. “I don’t need words, Angel. Not when I have this. You. Right here in my arms.” He smoothed his hand over her back, hips, and ass, leaving it there to rest.
“How are you so perfect?” Angela asked, sniffing a little. She was feeling rather emotional.
“I’m so far from perfect that it’s laughable, Angel,” Roman told her dryly.
She raised her head, tracing his frown lines with two fingers until they disappeared. “How about a compromise? Perfectly imperfect.”
Angela kissed him, giving Roman all her weight when he rolled so she was on top of him. Heat built slowly, a gentle burn rather than an inferno, but it was no less intense. Roman mapped her body with his mouth and hands, using Italian and Sicilian interchangeably to tell her how much he loved her and wanted her and how sexy she was to him.
Angela yanked on the waistband of his pants, her hand delving inside to play with the metal bars at the head of his cock. Wetness began to trickle between her thighs because it really was erotic as hell. The memory of what the magic crown could do had her impatience rising to the forefront. “Off. Now,” she commanded, tugging his sleep pants off.
Roman helped her, pushing the covers to the bottom of the bed. Then he returned to his spot, laying on his back with his stiff dick jutting from his crotch like a flag. “Go ahead. Do what you will,” he invited.
Angela grinned at him. “Is your safeword still stegosaurus?” she teased. She gripped his shaft, jacking it slowly from root to tip before she straddled his thighs.
Roman groaned, his neck straining as his head pushed into the pillows. “Safeword be damned. I’m always safe when I’m with you.”
Angela stopped playing, staring at the man in front of her. “The things you say to me...”
Roman was breathing hard, clearly extremely turned-on, but when he spoke, it was easy and unrushed. “It’s all you, baby. I only say these things because of you. You make me weak and yet powerful at the same time. Weak because I love you, and that is a target on both our backs. Whether I want to admit it or not. Yet powerful because, well, I love you. And nothing is stronger than love. I will always protect you. I will always be here for you. You can count on me. Always.”
“I know I can.” She wanted to say more, but there were tears welling in her eyes, and she wanted to take the man before her in the worst way. She wanted him to feel what he did to her—feel what he did for her.
She stood his erection up straight, moving from his thighs to his hips, and lowered herself down slowly. Her hands immediately clenched, as did her pussy, and she sought out something to stabilize her. Roman, of course, reached for her, linking their hands together as she started to rock.
She moved slowly at first, watching the way joy ran over his face. But she was unable to keep up the steady rise and fall for long because her pleasure was increasing rapidly. She released his hands and planted them on his pecs over the stunning tattoo and rocked back and forth, grinding her clit against his pelvis. The dual stimulation of her clit and his cock inside her was astounding. She cried out and moved her hips faster, loving the way Roman bared his teeth in an almost snarl.
“Fuck!” he shouted, his hands tightening on her hips for a moment before they traveled to loop over her shoulders.
The action forced her body down until her chest was touching his, and he captured her lips, kissing her with passion... with love. When his hands smoothed back down to her ass, she braced herself on her hands, lifting up and falling back down onto his cock. She gasped, tossing her head back, and noticed the mirror above his bed for the first time. It was dark, clearly made from smoked glass, but it was on the ceiling directly above them.
She kept up her movements but asked, “How did I not see that before?”
Roman grunted, following her gaze with his until they clashed in the mirror. His hips surged harder, faster as they watched the scene together. “You are fucking gorgeous,” he told her. “Look at your tits bouncing and your hair touching my thighs while my dick moves in and out of your sweet hole.” He followed up his naughty words with a literal growl.
Angela moaned, closing her eyes. “Stop,” she admonished him. He was going to make her come, and she wasn’t ready for the moment to end.
“Open your eyes, Angel,” Roman bid her. “Open your eyes and watch. We were made for each other. There will be plenty more moments for us. Come for me.”
She opened her eyes again, looking up. She saw Roman’s hands cup her breasts and felt them squeeze her until she lost the rhythm of her hips. He then gripped one of her thighs, planting his feet flat on the mattress and using it for leverage to pound up into her.
“Roman!” she shouted. “Yes! Right there!” His cock piercing was hitting her sweet spot perfectly.
“Right here?” Roman’s voice deepened seductively. “Or right here?”
Angela didn’t know what he meant until he used his free hand to touch her clit. But not just touch—he pinched it, then tugged on it in time with his hips. It was too much. She screamed, her already raspy voice—thanks to the charcoal—turning hoarse. She screamed and shuddered, bucking against his restraining hands. She was glad he didn’t let her escape because she didn’t really want to. But her body was so overstimulated that it didn’t know what to do.
When she fell onto his chest, twitching and panting, he rolled her, swapping their positions. She blinked blearily at the mirror, seeing Roman’s ass flex as he drilled into her with abandon. His head was buried in the crook of her neck as he fucked her hard. It didn’t make sense, but she had never felt so loved, or so cared for. He didn’t treat her like she was battered or broken. He treated her like a woman.
Like his woman.
