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Roan (Hollywood Binge #2) Page 5
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With no awkward moments, they were fluid as she wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in the short strands of his hair, keeping him locked against her. The clasp of her bra gave seconds before one hand shoved downward, cupping her ass cheek, drawing her closer while the other reached between their bodies, shoving the material out of the way to cup his hand over her breast. Her body ignited as Roan dominated, grinding his rigid cock against her belly. She couldn’t seem to get enough. Presley pushed higher on her tiptoes, trying to get closer, plastering her whole body against his.
She felt small wrapped in his strong arms. Roan reached up, threading one hand into the hair at her nape and tilting Presley’s head for a better angle. So turned on, she thrust her tongue forward in a frenzied, heated kiss. Everything about him assaulted her senses, and she followed his lead, her fingers trailing down his neck, over his shoulders, until both hands caressed his cheeks before tangling in his thick hair.
Lost in the moment, she had no idea when he’d released the button of her shorts, but her knees almost buckled when both his bare hands gripped her ass. One hand eagerly trailed over her hip, downward to delve between her thighs, his fingers caressing her soaking wet core.
Pulsing with passion, the kiss became secondary as her hips pitched forward against his fingers. She tore her mouth free, panting for breath as Roan moved to her neck, mouthing and licking his way along her jaw. When Roan easily slipped one finger inside her wet channel and began a steady pump back and forth, she clung to him, tightening her hold around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his neck.
“You’re so sexy,” Roan cooed, whispering against the top of her head. Presley was barely able to hang on as her body thrummed with desire.
The shorts slid away, allowing Roan’s hand more freedom, his thumb began circling her clit while his finger continued to stroke her from the inside out. She was lost in the instant sensual sensations he created. Her head rolled between her shoulders and her eyelids clenched closed as she clung to Roan’s broad shoulders. Luckily, Roan’s muscular arm locked around her waist to keep her on her feet as his lips moved to her neck. This was too much. He was too much to bear, her fingers curled closed, fisting in his shirt sleeve as she fought the unknown.
“I don’t…” She started frantically, having no real idea what she needed. When his thumb picked up the pace, pressing against her clit, his mouth went for her ear. The wet trail his tongue left, mixed with the warmth of his breath, was almost her complete undoing. Her body bowed in anticipation of something just out of reach, and she lost herself, moaning at the delicious tingles racing across her body. Need grew to a frenzy as Roan gave two or three fast strokes before he ripped his hand from her panties. Presley jerked her head forward, ready to protest that decision when he unexpectedly knocked her legs out from underneath her, scooping her up between his strong arms, her bra falling to the floor, completely forgotten.
Roan turned a full circle, first going for the sofa, then stopping, and backtracking to take her to the bed. His lips found hers and greedily ate at her mouth, maintaining the kiss as he lowered her to the mattress. He stretched out on top of her with his fingers tangling in her hair as he moved her head for a better angle, plunging his tongue deeper inside her mouth.
Only the need to breathe forced her to rip her mouth away and take a deep gulp of air to avoid passing out. God, this was all too much. Just the idea of what he’d already done sent a tremor of anticipation sprinting down her spine. She was a heaping mass of ricocheting hormones. She’d never been so fully turned on in her entire life and couldn’t seem to pull herself together.
Roan latched on to her neck, mouthing and sucking across her jaw, until he licked his way around the shell of her ear and whispered a quiet confession. “I’ve dreamed of you like this for so long.”
She shivered as he pushed up, straddling her thighs. His gaze raked down her body while he reached a hand behind his back to tug his shirt over his head. She’d seen him bare-chested, but somehow all those deep valleys and ridges looked more pronounced, more cut than ever. He was such a beautifully made man. Roan only paused for a second to run a single fingertip across each of her hardened nipples while he tossed his shirt aside. He worked the button free on his jeans while moving between her parted thighs. His lust-filled gaze didn’t leave her body as he deftly lifted each leg to pull her panties free. At the same time, he pushed at his shoe with his other foot.
“You’re more beautiful than I imagined,” he whispered in a deep, husky tone and began lowering his zipper. “And I imagined really great things.”
“I’m not…” she said, feeling woefully inadequate under his inspecting gaze.
“Oh yes, you are.” The smile he gave was infectious as he leaned forward, licking along the seam of her lips until he pushed his way back inside her mouth.
Finally having Presley Adams underneath him caused Roan to involuntarily rut his jean-covered erection against her unbelievably hot, dripping-wet core. He couldn’t seem to get enough of this moment nor could he slow down. He mentally lectured himself, trying to remember that he had all night long. He didn’t have to take her so quickly, but dammit, this was every single one of his dreams for the last two years seductively splayed out in front of him. Roan slid his tongue from her mouth, leaving a damp trail down her neck. He licked, mouthed, and nipped his way to her breast. The sublime moment he suckled her tight bud in his mouth stole all the fragments of restraint he had left. His body did a weird spasm as he wrestled to push his underwear and jeans down past his hips and keep her delicious nipple inside his mouth.
Presley tangled her fingers in his hair as her back arched forward to thrust more of her breast deeper inside his mouth. The throaty moan she gave proved she was just as into this as he was, and it turned out to be all the encouragement he needed to pop that nipple free and move to the other. He molded and kneaded the mound until he finally managed to free his aching cock with his other hand.
“Roan…” She moaned his name. The sultry, sexy sound spurred him on. He glanced up to see her eyes screwed tightly closed, her long dark hair spread out around her, and her hands held his head securely to her intoxicatingly sinful breast. Damn if his cock didn’t jerk and leak at the sight. He no longer controlled his body as he instinctively moved above her, pushing her thighs farther apart as his knees dug into the mattress. Presley’s eyelids fluttered opened, looking up at him with a hooded gaze laced with insecurity. Roan gripped his shaft, coating his bulbous head with one long swipe down her wet center before positioning his tip at her entrance. Presley lifted as best she could, watching every move he made. Being watched so closely somehow made the moment more intimate, if that were even possible. Roan lifted her hips, cradling her body as he slowly entered her soaking wet core.
“It feels good,” he muttered, moving to fully settle himself on top of her, pushing her back to the mattress, pinning her gaze with his. She said nothing, just stared at him as he gathered her in his arms, holding her as he leaned down to kiss her slightly parted, kiss-swollen lips. Even as wet as she was, the snug fit had him only inching forward, instead of sliding in like his body begged him to do. Damn, she was a tiny thing. “You’re tight.”
Slowly Roan began rocking his hips, moving in and out, back and forth, desperately needing to be buried inside this woman. His forehead went to her shoulder, and he strained with all the pent-up need coursing through him. Roan willed himself to keep it slow, resist every single urge he had. He didn’t want to hurt her. Presley couldn’t have had much sex if she was this freaking tight.
Jealousy skated across his heart, a frown marring his face as he closed his eyes and lay more fully on top of her. He forced the thought of her with any other man out of his head, and arched his hips, pushing as deep as her small body would take him. Presley gave a small yelp, and her fingernails dug into his hips, causing Roan’s breath to hitch as his heart began to double-time in his chest. His muscles strained and tensed, his hip
s involuntarily arched forward, pushing deeper inside her, stealing all his reasonable thought.
This was the most perfect moment of his life. He shoved his hand under her head, angling her so he could bury his face in the crook of her neck. He breathed in her fresh scent as he willed himself not to come. Not yet, no matter how badly he wanted to. Sweat broke out across his forehead, and his pelvic bone stayed pitched forward, pushing until he was fully seated inside her addicting, hot body.
She was too much to absorb, and his hips stayed relentlessly tucked, keeping him buried in the most extraordinary woman he’d ever known. He sensed the significance of this coupling. All the underlying meaning coursing through him. They were finally one, like they had always been destined to be.
Her breath tickled across his neck in an exhale. Presley panted a ragged sound against his ear. “Aren’t you supposed to move?”
“Shh.”
This lust-filled haze made it hard to control his body. It took a second to gather enough wit to test her theory. Forcing himself to pull back, Roan did until his hips immediately bucked forward, shoving back into the all-encompassing warmth, his pelvis locked in place, keeping his dick right there as her tight channel pulsed around him. Roan fought with everything he had, desperate to hold off his release.
“Do that again.” She gave a throaty, sensual whimper, pleading with him to continue then wiggled around underneath him, wrapping herself around him as if her life depended on the intimacy.
Fuck. That was too much. He clamped his jaw, screwed his eyes shut tight, and concentrated on trying to do anything other than ramming into her core. He’d never experienced anything like this before. Never one time had he had this much of a primal reaction to sex. Did she seriously not see what was happening to him? He could barely hold himself together.
“Waited too long… I’ll come,” he grunted, the words sounding unintelligible even to him, and he knew what he meant.
“Isn’t that the point?” Brilliance rang from his angel’s softly spoken whisper. Those reasonable words reached out to caress his haggard heart, and maybe even his insanely throbbing dick, and like always, she magically eased his anxiety. With his entire body flexed, bowed up in tense cords and strained muscles, her quietly offered question slowly unwound him.
Roan eased. He reached out, playfully licking his way around the shell of her ear as her heels dug into his ass, her thighs clamped around his hips, and her legs moved, urging him on. Roan gripped her hair between his fingers, fisting his hand in the long strands as he reared back and lifted enough to look down at Presley. Her beautiful face was flushed, her blue eyes pleading with him, and her body shifted, jarring him into action. With purpose, he moved, slowly sliding out only to push forward again. Nothing in the world had ever been so right. His eyelids slid closed, the gentle control he’d used abandoned him, and Roan let himself go.
“I’ll make this up to you,” he managed as his hips worked like a piston, driving mindlessly into her. Presley’s fascinating body moved instinctively with him, setting a frenzied pace. They had a carnal way about their lovemaking, proving what he already knew without any doubt: she was absolutely made for him.
For Roan, his climax didn’t come by way of a slow build. No. It was a flash, zinging from his spine to land in his balls. He jackhammered his hips, unable to stop the thrust as he came on a roar, filling her tight channel with his seed, loving everything about this woman.
Chapter Four
The intricate design of the ceiling tiles filled Presley’s vision while a slow smile spread across her lips. She took inventory of her body parts. Remarkably, she hadn’t self-combusted in all that sexy hot sex they’d just share. Her hand lazily slid up Roan’s back as she measured the weight and warmth of his body splayed heavily over hers. She liked him right there. Things like breathing were inconsequential. Besides, if she passed out, Roan was such a good guy he’d surely do the honorable thing and administer CPR to bring her back to life.
Well, she’d finally done it. And with Roan Westfield for that matter. Man, who would ever believe that’d happened? Her eyes slid closed, and she tightened her arms wrapped around him as she tried hard to commit every single moment into memory. Surprisingly, sex hadn’t hurt that badly. Roan was large. He’d had some trouble getting himself all the way inside, and she was certain he’d stretched her wide, but once he got going, everything changed. It felt good, and her heart connected, as she’d always known it would.
Roan’s lips pressed to the side of her head before he pushed off her, rolling to his back, dragging her along with him. “Next time, I’ll be better. I promise,” he said, absently brushing her hair away from her face. Her lax body just lay helplessly across his as she did nothing more than listen to the beat of his heart.
“It was good,” Presley managed, memorizing the smell of Roan’s skin and the feel of the soft fur at her cheek. Oh, she liked his chest hair a lot and nuzzled there, letting her finger sift through the light dusting on his chest. Roan was just so special, everything she could ever want in a man.
“No, it wasn’t, but I couldn’t hold myself together.” His arms tightened around her even as she chuckled at his words.
She’d been the one begging him to move, wanting everything this moment had to offer. She’d been the wanton, over-the-moon one during their sex.
“I think your silence means you’re doubting my ability?” he asked and busted another unexpected move when he rolled her over again, giving a solid grunt with the exertion he used. She laughed in earnest at his silliness as he settled back down on top of her, grinning as he placed a simple kiss on her lips. “It’s gonna take me a second, but I’ll prove to you that I can do better.”
“I should go to the bathroom,” she said, lifting her hand to the sweep of Roan’s hair that now rested on his forehead. Except for maybe when he played ball, he never looked disheveled. Lost in the intimacy of the moment, Presley lifted a finger, scooting the strands back off his face and contemplated what she needed to do. More than anything, she could stay snuggled up with this man, happily live in this moment forever. Since she certainly wasn’t an expert, the pooling between her thighs was bound to make a mess if she didn’t handle it soon.
When Roan didn’t readily move, just leaned forward to kiss her lips as he continued to stare down at her, she pushed at his chest until he let her shove him away, laughing again at the sounds of exhausted effort he made when he fell to his back. Presley didn’t pause. She rolled from bed and looked back before entering the bathroom. Roan’s gaze tracked her as she went.
“Don’t be gone long.”
She only grinned and left him there, shutting the door behind her. She didn’t even feel self-conscious walking nude in front of him. There was something about this man that had always drawn her in, some indefinable connection between them.
The first thing she did behind the closed door of the bathroom was get a good look at herself in the mirror. Her long hair was a wild tangled mess, the little bit of makeup she’d worn had run down her cheeks, and her body had been marked. She saw the evidence of two slight red blemishes he’d left behind. One above her right nipple, the other right below her collarbone. She skimmed her fingers over the mark on her breast, reliving his mouth on her skin until the evidence of his desire began to trickle down her inner thigh.
She reached for a washcloth and started there first, quickly wiping between her legs. Presley grabbed a clean cloth and barely got the makeup wiped off her face and a comb she’d found through her hair before there was a quiet knock on the door.
“I have your purse.”
Her gaze darted around the bathroom, looking for a towel to wrap around her body when the door opened a few inches and her purse was shoved through. She reached for the strap, taking the purse, then saw he’d shoved an arm through the opening with a T-shirt in his hands.
“Do you want a pizza?” he asked from behind the door.
“Sure.” She thought he’d been so sweet to
give her privacy until her gaze collided with his in the mirror. He’d been staring at her the whole time. His grin was immediate, probably much like her blush, and he pushed the door fully open. Still nude, he entered the bathroom with his shameless gaze raking up and down her body. She saw the moment he spotted the hickeys. He reached out, letting his fingertips caress the darkened skin before his gaze scanned lower and his brow furrowed. “You’re bleeding.”
As if in slow motion, she looked in the direction of his stare and saw a smear of blood on her inner thigh. The evidence of her virginity dotted her leg. Roan reached for the washcloth at the sink and flipped on the warm water. Genuine concern had him gently drawing her closer as he spoke. “You were so tight. Was I too rough?”
She could have told him the truth, but stopped herself. The truth would lead to questions she couldn’t easily answer. Being Blaine’s employee came with mountains of confidentiality agreements. Yes, they were between two teenagers, drawn up by Blaine himself, and she was almost certain they wouldn’t hold up in court, no matter how Blaine had tried to stress he’d follow through with legal action if she uttered one single word, but in the end, what kept her mouth closed was that she liked Blaine. They’d grown to be good friends. They had even spent many hours talking about how absolutely sexy Roan Westfield was and how they both had the biggest crush on him. She couldn’t be the one to sell out Blaine, even to the man she’d just given her virginity to.
“I didn’t think you were rough.” She blushed as Roan used the washcloth to clean her leg, then held the warmth of the rag against her center. His anxious gaze lifted to her.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault,” she said, then actually laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Roan stood nude in the bathroom, holding a cooling cloth against her most private area. Her total exposure in the stark bathroom lighting had her moving from his hold, reaching for the T-shirt he’d brought her.