Chapter Two
Veronica
I just had to wear jeans today, didn't I?
I quickly kicked my shoes off to let Roman strip them all the way off down my legs. I shuddered as he ran his big, warm hands up my calves and thighs. He pulled me forward suddenly before burying his face between my legs. I felt his breath against my pussy as he pulled my panties to the side. My eyes shut and head fell back in ecstasy. His tongue parted my lower lips and grazed my clitoris. His stubble rasped against my smoothly shaved mound and inner thighs.
I wanted to lay back and let him work me over, but I wanted to watch him at the same time. His lips and tongue feasting on me drove me wild. I felt myself gush as he sucked my clit. He rewarded me with a satisfied moan at the taste of my essence. His fingers teased my opening, sliding in far enough for my lips to stretch around them, but not enough to fill me.
I whimpered as he had his way with me. My orgasm threatened to break before ebbing every time he withdrew his fingers. Slow, sensual, delicious torture.
"Roman," I moaned. My hand fisted a handful of his thick, dark hair. It had gotten a little longer than usual since his last haircut. His other arm was clamped over my hips, keeping me still.
My breath quickened, feeling his fingers plunge into me, deep. His hand was so much bigger than mine, it just made me hungry for what I knew was coming next. He finger fucked me fast, tonguing my clit relentlessly. I bit back my scream, letting it out in quiet moans and cries.
He went faster, sensing I was close. I bit my lip, feeling a shooting spasm finally send me over the edge. I muffled my cry the best I could, trying to press my legs together against Roman's strong hand that was holding me open to him. I bucked my hips as he licked me, almost to overstimulation. I fell limp, and he stopped, chuckling quietly to himself. Satisfaction ran like electric pulses from my core through my whole body.
He pushed the bottom of my hoodie up, planting a small kiss below my navel. Another under my bra strap. Another one, this one on my chest after unzipping my hoodie to expose my bare skin. Another on my neck, then my jawline. Finally, my lips. His taste was mingled with mine. His softly probing tongue gentle again after the assault on my tender flesh. His jeans were stiff against my bare thighs, but barely concealed the evidence of his own arousal.
"Let me suck your cock," I whispered, briefly breaking our kiss. I wanted to please him. I wanted to pleasure him the way he had me. His dark blue eyes looked almost stormy with desire. The strain of his lust pulled against his features. His brows furrowed, hooding his eyes, and his jaw clenched, flexing the powerful muscles under his stubble-shadowed cheeks.
"I want to fuck you," he said, almost reverently. His voice was hoarse, choked with longing. I wanted him, too. He unsnapped his jeans, and I watched him unsheathe his dick between our bodies. He was so big, his foreskin barely covered the head of his dick when he was soft. He was engorged and shiny with precum already.
Heat merged in my abdomen, and I ached with anticipation. He kissed me fiercely, settling comfortably between my legs. I moaned into it as he pushed slowly and smoothly until every inch of him was buried inside me.
Everything felt still and perfect. It didn't matter that we were outside, that he was fully clothed and I couldn't feel his big, powerful muscles flexing as he fucked me. It mattered that I could feel him, there was nothing between us. Gentle, shallow rocking turned into steady, deep thrusts. Fast, then slow; deep, then teasingly shallow – I was putty in his hands. I surrendered completely to him. He knew how to make me scream, moan, cry. His body caging mine, swollen and erect inside my most private space, felt right. It said in actions, sweat, and movement what we felt for each other in our hearts.
His thrusts turned wild, almost savage, fucking me with everything he had. My walls throbbed and fluttered around him when my second orgasm overcame me. I threw my head back with a shudder. He kissed my neck, teeth stinging my skin as he hurtled towards completion and then came forcefully inside me. The thrusts slowed before he came to a stop.
Our eyes met, and I felt it as clearly as if the words had just left his lips. I love you. I reflexively touched him, my fingers tracing over his soft, full mouth, the uneven bridge of his nose that he had broken once playing football. His high, hard cheekbone and stubbled jaw. He took my hand and kissed it softly. Gently, he eased out of me and rolled onto his back next to me on the blanket.
I sat up, shuffling down the blanket for my panties and jeans. We were back again. In our daze, the clearing in the woods had become secluded and private. It was like I had stopped feeling the wind and sun on my skin when we had been fucking; like they disappeared. I took my hoodie off and threw it over the closed picnic basket before going back to him. He held his arm out to me and embraced me into his hard chest.
"What are you doing this weekend?" I asked him, after a few moments of comfortable silence. He sighed slightly.
"Besides studying? Not much. Why?"
"I'm going to see my parents, and I want you to come with me."
"Cheryl and Rob," he said, "how have they been?"
"Good. I just thought maybe a change of scenery would help just before finals next week. They haven't seen you in a while, either."
"Hm. I don't know, babe," he said.
"Are you busy?"
"I'll see what I have going on," he said. That was weird. He sounded a little tired, distracted, or sort of stressed. Finals were coming up so I got it, but he had never said no to coming home with me before.
My parents were fans of his, and he liked them, too. We had spent a lot of weekends home with them. They had never let us to sleep in the same room at their house, but they were my parents, they weren't stupid. After almost three years of bringing the same guy home to them, they knew better than to think the two of us weren't intimate.
"Maybe during the summer?" I said hopefully. He grunted quietly, which I figured was a yes. I knew how it was with his summer training. I would understand if he wanted to spend as much time as possible at home and not with my folks. His training was starting a couple weeks into June, so he would hardly even have three weeks free before he had to report back.
It wasn't that important. I didn't want to push him. We had already had to cancel vacation plans; he had a lot on his plate as an athlete, I got it. My parents would get it, too. If things were really busy, I'd just bring him round for dinner or something when he had time. It could wait.