Roman: Book 2 (The Hunter Brothers Series) by L.J. Dee

raised in a breathy pitch as he looked around with an exaggerated
sweep of his head.
    “No one around,”
he winked, grinding his hips against me and his feelings were certainly evident
through the denim of his jeans.
    Before I could
form another argument, his lips began their slow caress, arousal pooling in my
centre under the movement of his hips. From the way he was stimulating me
through my clothing, there was every chance he could bring me off like that and
I reached down, unzipping his fly and allowing his cock to spring loose as I
stroked it with abandon. The last thing on my mind now was the prospect of
picnickers or a roving farmer.
    “Oh baby, that’s
so fucking good,” he said as I felt every inch of his shaft, solidifying by the
second as I teased my fingers across the ridge and veins. I wanted him to touch
me, my panties wet at the feel of his steel flesh against my fingers. He
unzipped my jeans, pulling them down to my thighs, followed by the flimsy
cotton panties, before reaching into his back pocket, breaking the kiss briefly
to roll on his condom. With no further words he was inside me. I gasped at the
fullness, pressed hard against his body with the cool breeze lapping against my
exposed flesh, and the heat of Roman covering me.
    He was slow and
deliberate, each thrust rubbing deliciously against my G-spot as I tilted my
hips. He was dictating the pace and it was not the hot and hurried experience
of last night, but deeper and soulful, our lips merging as intimately as our
bodies. The rustle of the tree and the low hum of cars in the distance were the
only sounds, interspersed with our gentle moans of pleasure as the pressure
suddenly increased and I cried out loud.
    “Oh baby, you feel
so hot, so tight, so good,” he moaned against my mouth as I opened mine to let
his tongue continue its thrilling exploration of my mouth. Deep in my core the
pounding intensified, my body drowning in the bliss being driven from my
insides, the delectable pressure on my secret spot releasing soft waves as his hands
found my arse and he tilted me further into him.
    “I need this,
baby,” he groaned, holding me tightly, using my body to unleash the pent up
rage, the pressure and the grief. Riding the bike had blown off some steam, and
riding me was calming him; each measured thrust awakening and enlightening our
cells as our bodies entwined.
    We were fully
clothed, yet the intimacy was palpable, connected in the one place that was
filling my brain and my centre with erotic bliss. “Oh, Chas, you’re fucking
incredible,” he moaned, catching his breath as he held my head, tightly and
protectively. He was kissing me relentlessly and every time he stopped, he
pulled me into those brilliant blue irises as I drowned in the pleasure he was
unleashing.
    He held me with a
heart stopping gaze and he knew I was close. “Oh God, oh fuck, oh yes, Roman,”
I gasped as he owned me, driving me to the most exquisite bliss, powering
through my orgasm, riding it out and coaxing another before he finally let go,
throwing back his head and moaning loudly before he collapsed, breathless on
top of me.
    The wind was
getting up, the chills on my skin overridden by the heat from my body, wrapped
tightly in the arms of Roman as he finally adjusted his weight, pulling up his
jeans before he slid my panties slowly up my legs, followed the tight denim as
he dressed me skilfully and gently. I was watching his every move, his gaze
focused on my body, smiling as his eyes met mine. He was shaking his head.
“What the fuck have you done to me?” he laughed gently as I frowned in
bemusement.
    “Hopefully made
you feel a bit better,” I grinned as he chuckled softly, sitting beside me on
the grass and looking around at the peaceful countryside.
    “Stay still,” he
whispered as I lay on the ground, still basking in my post orgasmic bliss. I
had no intention of doing anything else as I realised he was looking hard at
something, sitting up quickly