“Look at me,” I murmured softly. “Don’t hide. Not from me.”
Her lashes lifted, and when her eyes locked onto mine, it felt as if the world itself held its breath.
I moved slowly, rocking into her with long, unhurried thrusts-not for release, but for connection. I wanted to show her that she wasn’t broken, that she was whole in my embrace. Her walls tightened around me, her body surrendering to the moment.
With every stroke, I kissed her-her lips, her temple, her throat, the tears that fell. I kissed the soft sounds she made, the gasps that escaped her lips as pleasure began to melt away the grief.
**Savannah**
It shouldn’t still feel this way-not after everything I had confessed, not after the ugliness of my past. But it did.
Roman’s weight above me was grounding, his body moving inside mine with a rhythm that felt like home. Each time I tried to turn my head, overwhelmed by shame, he would kiss me until I had no choice but to face him once more.
“Don’t hide,” he kept whispering, his voice a gentle command. “Don’t you dare hide from me.”
Those words unraveled me more than the way his hips pressed against mine, more than the pleasure curling low in my stomach. He was stripping me bare, not just of my body, but of my very soul.
And still… he stayed.
“Roman.” I gasped, my hands gripping his back, nails digging in as the sweetness threatened to consume me.
His pace quickened only slightly, his forehead pressed to mine, our mouths brushing with every breath we shared. “Say it,” he urged softly. “Say you feel it.”
Tears slid into my hair, and I cried out, “I feel it!” because I did. Oh God, I truly did.
**Roman**
Her body clenched around me, her cries filling my ears, and I knew she was close. I wanted to follow her, but I held on, needing her to break first, needing her to understand she was safe even in surrender.
When she finally came, it was with a sob that nearly shattered me. She clung to me as if I were the only thing tethering her to this world.
I kissed her through it, kissing her until she stilled, until her chest heaved against mine, until her eyes fluttered open and I saw something new reflected there. Not shame. Not fear. But a fragile, desperate hope.
Only then did I let myself go, spilling inside her with a groan that left me trembling.
I collapsed onto her chest, careful not to crush her, my arms still cradling her as if she might vanish if I dared to let go.
And in the stillness that followed, when only our breaths filled the air, I whispered softly, “You’re perfect. Flaws and all.”
Knock! Knock!! Knock!!!
“Savannah?” A voice called out, urgent and insistent, as it pounded relentlessly against the door.
With a groan, I buried my ear deeper into the softness of my pillow, flipping onto my other side as if I could somehow block out the world with a mere shift of fabric.
“Wake up! You’re going to be late!”
The voice sliced through the fog of my half-conscious state, pulling me reluctantly toward reality. I cracked one eye open, squinting against the dim light that filtered through the curtains. Outside, the sky remained cloaked in darkness, the kind of early morning that sane individuals would still be cocooned in sleep.
A heavy weight draped across my waist jolted me back to the present-Roman’s arm, warm and possessive.
Escaping his embrace felt like a battle; his grip was like iron, unyielding even in the depths of slumber. With a soft grunt of determination, I finally managed to slip free, sitting up and rubbing my forehead in an attempt to shake off the remnants of sleep.
The knocking continued, more frantic now. Lizzie.
I snatched a robe from the chair, wrapping it tightly around myself, feeling the fabric envelop me like a shield, concealing every inch of my bare skin. The sash cinched around my waist as I navigated the minefield of discarded clothes strewn across the floor, remnants of a night that had left me blushing like a schoolgirl. Memories of yesterday flooded my mind-his careful touch, the deliberate pace he had taken, the way he ensured I felt comfortable, as if it were our first time all over again.
I stole a glance at his sleeping form, sprawled on his belly, one hand still resting on the side I had just vacated.
Another knock jolted me from my reverie, my eyes darting toward the door.
“Savannah! Are you dead in there?!” Lizzie’s voice had escalated into a near-panic, her pounding echoing like a frantic drumbeat against the doorframe. Roman stirred behind me, his voice thick with sleep.
“Who the hell is that?” he muttered, groggy and disoriented.
“Lizzie,” I whispered back, cautiously opening the door.
There she stood, a whirlwind of chaos-hair a wild mess, hands planted firmly on her hips, radiating annoyance like a storm about to break. For a fleeting moment, I could have sworn I saw smoke rising from her ears.
“Dude! I’ve been knocking for hours!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms wide in exasperation, her eyes nearly popping out of her head.
“We were asleep,” I replied hastily, angling my body to shield her view of Roman, who lay naked and oblivious across the sheets.
Lizzie’s gaze swept over me, assessing every detail from head to toe. Then, slowly, a devilish smirk crept onto her face, her earlier annoyance fading like mist in the morning sun. “Ah. I see.”
Rolling my eyes, I sighed. “What is it, Lizzle? Why are you trying to break down the door at dawn?”
“The makeup artist is here,” she blurted out, her words tumbling out in a rush. “Chloe’s finished hers, and now it’s your turn. The other bridesmaids are here too. They’re all waiting for you.”
As her words registered, a wave of panic washed over me. Makeup artist. Bridesmaids. Chloe. My heart began to thud unevenly in my chest, each beat echoing the dread that was settling in.
“What are you talking about? The wedding isn’t happening. Didn’t Dean tell you?”
For a brief moment, Lizzie blinked at me, her expression one of utter confusion, as if I were speaking a language she didn’t understand.
No. No, please. This can’t be happening.
Her brows knitted together in concern. “What? That’s not true. The wedding’s still on. Dean even sent Chloe a gift just a few minutes ago. He said-and I quote-he can’t wait to see her.”
Time seemed to freeze. The world around me came to a standstill, as if someone had pressed pause on reality.
It felt like I had been struck across the face with a heavy hand, a sharp ringing filling my ears, drowning out everything else. My vision swam, tilting dangerously as I fought to maintain my balance.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.