CHAPTER 78: OVER HER CLIT

Manama City

Patricia hadn’t been able to rest since hearing Roman was in danger. Her mind kept spinning, what could have happened? One moment he was kissing her in his office, and the next she was told he was out of the city... and at risk. How? Why?

"Are we almost there?" She asked for what felt like the hundredth time, her fingers fidgeting in her lap, worry etched across her face.

"Almost, Miss Patricia," Kay replied, though guilt tugged at him. The fear in her voice was real. She truly cared about Roman. And he knew, when she saw him perfectly fine, she might feel betrayed.

When they finally reached the villa, Patricia wasted no time. She stepped out of the car and hurried inside, eyes scanning every corner for him. Room by room she searched the ground floor, her heart pounding harder with each empty space.

She glanced back to check for Kay. He was there, following quietly. "Where is he?" She demanded.

Kay pointed upstairs.

Spotting the staircase, she rushed toward it, her pace quick and determined. When she reached the main lounge, she stopped dead in her tracks. Through the wide open balcony doors, she saw him, standing with his back to her, completely unharmed, as if nothing in the world was wrong.

Her heart skipped, but this time from a mix of relief and anger. Slowly, she crossed the room toward him, her eyes locked on him, her steps soundless on the floor.

When she reached the balcony entrance, she stopped just five steps away, drawing a long, shaky breath. She couldn’t even speak at first. Ever since she heard the news, she hadn’t been able to eat or drink. She had been restless, frightened, and though she didn’t want to admit it, angry at herself.

Was it because she thought she had lost him forever? Because she regretted not holding him the last time she had the chance? Or because she had pushed him away when every part of her had wanted to pull him close?

"You are here," Roman said, turning to face her with a faint smile, as if everything were perfectly fine. But his expression shifted when he noticed the streak of tears glistening in her eyes. Then he remembered, Kay had told her he was in danger.

"Why?" She whispered, her voice trembling as she fought to blink back fresh tears.

"I knew you wouldn’t come unless I said so. I didn’t mean to..." He stopped mid-sentence as she moved closer.

Patricia’s hand rose to his chest, then she began hitting him. "I was worried sick for nothing!!" Each word came with another blow, her voice rising with every strike. "You... You are such a jerk! A cruel, arrogant, egoistic, selfish, hateful, wicked man!!"

He didn’t try to stop her with words. Instead, his hands came up to cradle her face, lifting her chin so she had to look at him. And in one swift motion, he closed the distance and claimed her lips.

This time, she didn’t push him away. She didn’t resist. She let the kiss happen, her lips parting in surrender, her anger dissolving into something far more dangerous.

Roman’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her against him until there was no space left between them. His lips pressed to hers in a slow, deliberate kiss, no rush, no hesitation, just the intoxicating rhythm of his mouth pampering her upper lip, then the lower, savoring her like she was the only thing worth tasting.

Patricia’s eyes fluttered shut, surrendering. She told herself she should resist, that she had every reason to push him away... but she let herself drown in it instead. Just this once, she would allow herself to feel him without guilt.

Roman’s thumb stroked her cheek, the touch so tender it sent a soft moan escaping her lips. He kissed her like he wanted to memorize the shape of her mouth, breathing her in as though she was air.

When he finally pulled back, she opened her tear-bright eyes, meeting his gaze. His voice was low, rough with sincerity.

"I am sorry."

"I hate you," she whispered, her voice trembling but her lips betrayed her, parting slightly. Roman’s mouth curved in a faint smile, taking it as permission. He claimed her again.

The kiss that had been slow burned into something hotter, faster, more desperate. Their breaths came quick, their hands roaming without restraint. They clung to each other as if the world outside didn’t exist. Roman guided her back until she was pressed against the cold glass of the wide balcony window. His kiss grew rough, possessive, hungry, each breath between them ragged and hot.

They devoured each other, neither willing to loosen their grip. Roman’s chest heaved against hers. Every second she stayed, his need for her only deepened, twisting into something fierce. She was the quiet to his chaos, the water to his fire, the one thing that could both break him and keep him alive. He didn’t just want her, he needed her.

His hands slid down her back, finding the zipper of her gown. In one swift motion, he pulled it down, the fabric sliding off her shoulders. The sudden kiss of night air on her bare skin made her shiver.

"Wait... we are outside," she murmured, curling into his chest, glancing toward the shadowy distance.

Roman tilted her chin up, making her look at him. "This is a remote area. No one comes here, and we are upstairs. No one will see. Not this late." Then his mouth was on hers again, hard, demanding, unapologetic.

He kissed her like a man claiming what was his, his mouth greedy, his hands firm. "Unzip my pants," he growled against her lips. Her fingers trembled as they obeyed, pulling the zipper down.

He stepped out of them in seconds, tossing them aside, and reached for the clasp of her bra. The strap snapped free, baring her to him. His gaze dropped instantly, lingering with a hunger that made her heat up in embarrassment.

"I love that they are mine," he murmured, eyes dark and glinting. "So soft... so perfect."

His shirt joined the pile of discarded clothes, leaving only his boxers. Then he lifted her into his arms effortlessly, carrying her toward the small, curved bed near the flickering fireplace.

It was only then, as the firelight bathed the balcony in gold and shadow, that Patricia noticed the details around her, the plush throw, the thick blankets, the secluded intimacy of it all. She hadn’t seen any of it before. She had been too lost in him.

Roman placed her gently on the curved bed, but there was nothing gentle in his eyes. He kissed her, deep, consuming, only to break away just as she was falling into his rhythm. His lips began their slow descent, brushing over her neck, tasting her collarbone, then pausing between her breasts as though savoring the moment.

He lingered there, his tongue teasing, licking the soft skin until she let out a trembling sigh. Then he moved lower, dragging his mouth over the flat plane of her stomach in unhurried strokes, making her muscles tighten under the heat of him. When he reached her navel, he blew a warm breath into it before giving a slow, deliberate lick. Her breath hitched, a soft sound escaping her throat.

She thought he would stop. Instead, his lips kept traveling downward, inch by inch, like he wanted her to feel every moment of it. Her heart started pounding faster, her mind spinning with what he might be planning.

When he reached her panties, he sank to his knees in front of her, his hands sliding to the back of her calves, lifting them just enough to part her legs. Her instincts made her tense, trying to close them, but his grip was steady.

"There’s nothing ugly about you," he said, his tone quiet but unyielding. "Don’t hide from me."

Her pulse thundered in her ears. Slowly, hesitantly, she let her legs fall open for him. She hated how exposed she felt, yet there was no shame in his gaze, only hunger, and something deeper she didn’t dare name.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties. He held there for a beat, making her wait. Then his voice came low and rough.

"Now let me eat... I have been starving."

The words shot through her, making her shiver. He slid her panties down in one fluid motion, tossing them aside like they meant nothing.

"Ohhh..." she gasped as the cool night air swept over her most sensitive skin, sending a jolt straight through her core.

Roman’s eyes dropped to her, his stare heavy and unblinking. He positioned her with firm hands on her thighs, leaning in until she could feel the warmth of his breath against her.

"Sit back," he murmured. "Relax. I am about to show you a new world."

Their eyes met, just for a heartbeat, before he broke the connection, lowering his head. His tongue touched her slowly, a single, deliberate stroke over her clit.

Patricia’s head fell back. "Ahhh!! No..." The cry tore out of her as her fingers twisted in the sheets, her body jerking helplessly under the sudden rush of pleasure.

He took his time, lapping her with maddening slowness, then changing his pace, coaxing moans from her like he already knew her body’s secret language. He devoured her as if she was the only thing that could satisfy him, his tongue moving in deep, calculated strokes.

Her hands flew to his hair, clutching hard without realizing it. He didn’t flinch, didn’t care. This was her first time feeling anything like this, and he wanted her to lose herself, to stop thinking and just feel.

Breaking from her clit for a moment, he moved lower, tasting her everywhere, licking, sucking, savoring until her thighs trembled against him. He knew she needed a breath before he destroyed her completely, so he gave her that small mercy... but it wouldn’t last.

"Hmmm...!" She moaned, the sound raw, her body arching toward his mouth again, desperate without even realizing it. Her world had narrowed to nothing but him, his mouth, and the intoxicating way he was dismantling her piece by piece.