Page 63 of Tangled Roses
I find her sprawled out on the couch in the library, the blue flame from the fire catching the tears that are running down her face. Despite her obvious distress, I can’t help admiring the picture before me. She is devoid of make-up. Her hair trapped in a messy bun on top of her head. She is wearing an off the shoulder t-shirt and a baggy cardigan over jeans. She is perfect, too perfect and I don’t even care about the tears cascading from her eyes because I know it wasn’t me who put them there.
She is engrossed in her grandmother’s diary and doesn’t even hear me approach. and jumps as I crouch down in front of her and gently remove the diary from her shaking fingers.
“Arman.” She appears distracted. “What time is it?”
“Lunch time, malysh.”
I lean in and clean her tears away with one swipe of my tongue, and she shivers. “Why is that such a turn on?”
“Tears do that to me.” I whisper huskily, pulling off my t-shirt as I delight in the lust sparkling alongside the tears in her eyes.
“You like to see women cry?” She raises her eyes and I shake my head, unbuckling my belt as she watches me, her lip trembling and her chest heaving.
“I like to see you cry.”
“Why?” Her breath hitches as I palm my cock and say gruffly, “Because you resemble a tragic masterpiece. Your beauty is enhanced by sadness. It’s captivating to watch the light change in your eyes when your body responds to my attention.”
“You’re a sick bastard, Arman.”
I place my finger on her lips. “Language, malysh. You are a lady—my lady and you must act like one.”
“Is this how a lady acts?” Her smirk of amusement makes me smile as I remove her cardigan and lift the t-shirt off her head, loving the fact she is naked underneath.
“It’s how my lady acts with me.”
I press a kiss to her soft lips and whisper, “Only with me. Only ever with me.”
I pull away and remove her jeans, loving how they are easy to discard, once again revealing she doesn’t believe underwear is necessary.
I groan as I press a light kiss to her sweet pussy and she lies back on the couch and moans, “I didn’t know I was lunch.”
It makes me smile as I join her and settle between her legs, pinning her to the couch with a lustful stare.
“You’re my lunch, and I’m hungry.”
I relish every second as I slide into her core. Her walls clenching my cock, holding it firm. I push past any resistance, loving how tight she is and her small moan of pain reminds me it is still sore from the onslaught it received last night.
“Relax, malysh.”
She sighs as I shift a little and cup her ass in my hands, pulling her in deeper and thrusting up harder.
She bites her lip as I take my time, loving every sigh that escapes her, every moan and every burst of wet heat that coats my cock, allowing me to dance in her ruin as she falls apart around me.
I come so hard I hold on tight, my body draining of pent-up need and the frustration I’ve felt all morning. She was on my mind the entire time, and she still is. I can’t see or think of anything but this woman and I’m telling myself it’s because of the situation we are in. I am infatuated, but that may pass. I’m still working out my feelings toward her but know I am not done with her yet. Something about Ellie Adams shouted to my soul and I’m working out what to do about that.
As we lie naked on the couch, her head rests on my chest and she directs soft kisses my way as she sighs with contentment.
“This is nice.” She says softly and I have to agree—it is.
I tangle my fingers around her hair and say gruffly, “You were crying. Tell me about that.”
“And you’re only asking me that question now?”
Her chuckle of amusement makes me smile and I admit, “I only had one thing on my mind when I walked in here and I am never distracted from immediate business.”
“Which was screwing me to the couch, I presume.”
She glances up and grins, and I love the spark in her eyes as she shakes her head. “What am I going to do with you, Arman?”