Dinner First
Dinner First
ROMANY
Mickey’s emerald green eyes glow in the dark of my bedroom, his gaze falling over me greedily as he slowly approaches the bed. The way he watches me is triggering. It fires me up, dragging me back to the very beginning and forcing me to recall all the different ways he commanded my attention. Every moment spent with him is full of intention and animalistic desire. It’s insane, really, and every sweep of his eyes on my skin carries a sort of obscene madness, an unhinged hunger that never dials down. Not once since I met him have I ever had to wonder if he wanted me. Every single thing about him has always been pure and raw and brutally honest. Never has he hidden his feelings from me. Never has he made me feel insecure, or less than. From the very beginning he has been absolutely clear about what it was that he wanted.
Me.
Just me.
And I know, should I decide to give myself to him, tie myself to him…wear his ring and bear the title of his wife, there is nothing in this world he won’t allow me. Nothing that he will fail to give. The problem is, he’s not the only one that I want to belong to. He’s not the only one I want to claim, and until I have all four of my men standing beside me, I don’t think there’s an answer that I can give.
“Let me see you, Doll,” Mickey hisses, kneeling on the bed beside me and feathering a hand over my naked stomach.
There’s a slight bump, about the size of a salad bowl and it doesn’t always show. But now that I am laying down, the swell of my belly is much more prominent.
Mickey is riveted, completely transfixed, and when he caresses me, he slides a warm palm over my abdomen, stroking back and forth about five inches north of where I actually want him.
“Fucking beautiful,” he whispers, leaning forward to place an open mouthed kiss on my baby bump.
Did I or did I not mention that I was horny?
“Mickey,” I gripe, glaring at the top of his head as he continues to romance my belly button.
“Mhmm.”
“Lower,” I snap, drawing one leg upward to attempt to grab his attention.
“Mhmm,” he murmurs again, still blissfully ignorant.
“Mickey!”
“Don’t shout, Doll. Shouting induces stress.”
For fuck’s sake.
Closing my eyes in irritation as Mickey begins talking to my stomach, I remind myself that only an hour ago my life was meaningless because I thought he was dead, so it would probably be pretty fucking silly to kill him now, after the fact.
“Mickey, if you aren’t going to fuck me then get the hell out of my way so that I can get dressed and make my dinner.”
Mickey’s hand freezes on my hip and he straightens, flashing the same almost smile that he is prone to give me whenever he thinks I’m being a brat. His green gaze sparkles, glittering across my naked chest as his free arm slides upward, muscles flexing next to my head while he adjusts his position over me and dips one knee directly between my legs, leaving the weight of his erection to scorch the flesh of my hip.
I can’t help it, I whimper, bucking upward ever so slightly to smash my thigh up under his girth and undulate against it. Mickey releases a low groan, his body rocking with tension as he shifts himself between my legs and then drops the whole of his weight over the top of my body, smashing my tender breasts into the hard planes of his chest and burying his face within the tussled shroud of my hair.
The feel of his lips latching onto my neck coupled with the sudden, vicious assault of his punishing kiss as he sucks and bites into the tender flesh of my throat is like a long awaited wet dream come true. Four months. Four months of forgotten kisses and stubborn celibacy, of remaining untouched and refusing intimacy.
Four months built on a lie.
Losing Alex and Mickey had been life altering and soul shattering in such a way that marked the end of any future of mine that included love. The two of them held equal pieces of my heart, as did Tiny and Damien, but when I believed they were dead, I decided to rip all the pieces out, blaming everyone who survived and swearing not to ever forgive them.
I never thought I’d be warm again.
Yet, here I am, a fire erupting within me and burning across my skin, lighting up my nerve endings as my hardened nipples drag along the finely carved muscles of Mickey’s well defined chest.
God that feels good, and I want more, so I arch into him, gripping his tapered waistline with desperate hands as I spread my thighs wider and angle his cock toward my slit. Rolling my hips upward in a rough and ruthless circle, I moan at the feel of him, grinding as hard as I can to punish him for making me wait.
His dick pulses like live rock against my core, swelling and beating along my sensitive folds as he slides himself up and down my entrance, strumming my center like the strings of a guitar and then pulling back just enough to drive my pussy wild. Finally, my clit seems to realize that we are no longer on strike and a staccato drumbeat begins to vibrate within my core, pouring a molten honey over everything above my knees and bathing Mickey’s cock in a flood of my juices .
He groans, “Oh fuck.”
My breath catches, the familiar tightening of my outer muscles driving me toward pleasure with just the grinding of Mickey’s shaft.
My hands clench, my nails biting into Mickey’s flesh as a tidal wave of unavoidable ecstasy surges through me, ripping a tortured scream from my lungs as I shout and convulse beneath him.
“Oh God!” I moan, my body quivering as I come down from my high, my energy spent and my pussy throbbing with the aftermath of my unexpected climax. “That was…so good,” I breathe out, my eyes falling heavy as I relax my muscles and gaze around the room. “It’s been…so long. That was…perfect. Thank you,” I say, batting my lashes as I blow him a kiss.
Mickey’s eyebrows draw together, his eyelids drooping in disbelief as he fixes me with an incredulous glare and thrusts himself against my sex. “We’re not done, Doll. Not even close.”
Reaching up to tangle my hands in his hair, I smile and say, “I. Am. Hungry. Dinner first. Dick after.”