Roman-2(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(161)

“What about girlfriends?”

“I never bothered with them. It was easier to have casual sex with different women. That way they didn’t ask too many questions. And no one seemed to want to go beyond that anyway, so it never came up.”

Sasha pressed her palm against his chest, her fingers splayed. “I do. I want to go beyond that.”

He looked into her eyes. They were etched with anguish.

“Please, Thomas,” she implored. “I want you. All of you. I want to touch every part of you, kiss every part of you. I want the real you.”

She slid her hands up to the collar of his shirt then undid the top button. He winced and closed his eyes.

“Is that okay?” she said.

Slowly, he nodded.

She opened his shirt up. The exposed flesh was scarred and marked, wrinkled like the skin of an elephant. She pressed her lips against it then unfastened the next button and did the same. She could tell Thomas was anxious because his breath had become rapid and his eyes were squeezed shut.

She worked her way down each button, then slid his shirt entirely from his body. The scars from the fire covered his entire torso, making a marbled pattern in his skin. She was careful not to show any reaction on her face. Instead, she bent low and took his nipple in her mouth. He gasped, and she realized that she must be the first woman to ever lick his nipples. This was a brand new sensation for him, one that she got to introduce him to. The thought made her feel even more powerful. It was up to her to control this, to make him feel safe with her, to make this the best sex he’d ever had.

“Lie back,” she said.

He did as she instructed.

She ran her tongue over his flesh. His muscles were tight beneath the skin. Her hands stroked his chest then wound their way down to his belt. She undid it slowly, biting her bottom lip with anticipation.

“Close your eyes,” she said, as she unzipped his fly.

She guided his pants off of him. There were more scars on his legs, a dark purple color. But she couldn’t care less about them. All she cared about was Thomas’s huge erection. She rolled a condom over it.

He opened his eyes and drank in the sight of her gazing in adoration at his naked body. They were both naked, both in the same state of vulnerability, finally on a par with no power dynamic between them.

“I want you inside of me,” Sasha said. “It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

She mounted him. She was so wet from her earlier orgasms, he slid in quickly and deeply. His erection was rock hard. It filled the entire length of her.

Sasha began moving her hips slowly in a figure of eight. Thomas held onto her ass, guiding the motion. She could feel the echoes of her earlier orgasms as she rode him, demanding her to move faster, to push harder. She fought them back, wanting to savor this moment with Thomas, not wanting to rush anything, to delay gratification, to make sure that he experienced the most pleasure he ever had.

He moaned. “That feels good.”

Something about the way he said it seemed so fragile, so delicate. She realized that this was the first time Thomas Lloyd had ever felt nervous during sex. She had a great responsibility.

She widened her legs so that he was even deeper inside her, and this time, he let out a guttural noise from deep within him. “Fuck, yes.”

She felt his grip on her ass tighten. He began to move her faster, and she yielded, her body wanting it desperately, too. Then Thomas sat up and pulled his arms around her back. He pulled her tightly into him, so that their searing skin met. She could feel a layer of sweat between them.

Thomas pressed his mouth against hers, and she began to rock gently, her hands in his hair. His penis had moved positions when he had and was now angled towards a place that sent even stronger spasms of pleasure through Sasha.

“Oh, God,” he moaned, as she bounced faster and harder, unable to hold her body back any longer from what it needed.

His breath was hot, as he panted into the crook of her neck. She began to grunt with each inward thrust, heat and pleasure co-mingling inside of her.

“Thomas,” she whispered. “You’re so good.”

“Sasha,” he replied.

At the sound of her name, she threw her head back. He licked the exposed flesh, and she grabbed him by the shoulders, kneading his flesh. He winced.

“Don’t stop,” he said.

She dug her fingernails into him, and he cried out with pleasure. They were moving so fast now, so hard, their breath had synced up.

“I’m going to come,” he said through clenched teeth.

“So am I.”

She leaned back and stared him directly in the eye. And with one final thrust, they climaxed at the same time—silent at first, their mouths open, frowns etched across their foreheads—then loudly, crying out in unison.