It took them a while to get here.
Roman moaned ‘fucking shitballs’ into Gerri’s neck, his breath hot on her skin. His tongue danced across her skin, and then nibbled the wet flesh for good measure.
A stuttered gasp escaped from Gerri’s lips as she dug her trimmed nails deeper into Roman’s shoulders. “Fuck--oh God, yes, Rome.”
His tongue was suddenly in her mouth; his lips desperate, but tender.
And his hard dick.
Gerri knew it didn’t take much to get Roman hard. A light breeze, sheets rustling him the right way, or anything he felt could and would shame him.
It was truly that simple.
But, in the beginning, sex wasn’t simple.
In the beginning, Gerri didn’t want sex from him.
To be honestly, she hadn’t known what she wanted from Roman when they started their special phone conferences. Originally, she summed their first “session” up as Roman being weird and deliberately trying to make her uncomfortable. It didn’t bother her because she knew Roman got off on pushing limits, but didn’t mind being told off. Boy, she did not know that it was in more ways than one.
When he requested that second session, Gerri was amused--baffled, but amused--and decided to have some fun with it.
It’s not everyday a young, handsome, and rich man who happened to technically be your boss craved being shamed into orgasming. It did briefly cross her mind that it’d be an HR nightmare if they ever found out, but Gerri seriously didn’t think it’d go as far as it did.
How could it?
And yet, it did.
It went much further than either of them expected or anticipated.
How could she had anticipated the seamless way in which Roman settled into her life? From the constant barrage of text messages and phone calls at random hours in the night to fucking her on her couch--their couch--11 o’clock at night.
In the beginning, she had to teach Roman how to fuck her.
In the beginning, she had to ease Roman into sex.
(Over time, they learned how to make love to one another. She may be an old gal--his old gal--but, there were things he taught her too.)
When Gerri realized that Roman’s kink was being shamed, she kinda thought he was fucked in the head. When Gerri realized Roman had an issue with intimacy, she held him in his hotel bed. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Roman as he fell asleep in her arms.
Quietly, she tip toed out of his room before hurriedly going to hers.
It’d been more for a while.
Ever since Croatia. Maybe even before then, but things definitely changed in Croatia.
Even when his ass was safe, he defended her. Even when he didn’t have a real reason at first, he stuck to his guns until he found a reason.
Then, later on, he went to her room and, before she could even talk, he kissed her as the door clicked shut.
As Gerri caught her breath, Roman held his hand in hers. His eyes were soft as he struggled for the right words to say.
“Christ woman, will you fucking cut my dick off already?” Far too shocked to even respond, Gerri tried to pinpoint the familiarity of the phrase. “Gerri...marry me. I mean, we’re practically married already.”
Rolling his eyes, he shrugged, never letting go of her hand.
“Roman, that’s absurd. We’re not even dating,” Gerri pointed out.
Roman cocked his head, and then looked at Gerri skeptically. Raising an eyebrow, he said, incredulously, “But, aren’t we?”
Mirroring his expression, Gerri pursed her lips and smiled to herself. “No..no! We aren’t dating, Roman.”
“I’m pretty sure we are.” Before Gerri could contradict him again, Roman’s lips were on hers again. Caught between wanting to correct his presumption and teaching Roman how to kiss her, the latter won out. And Roman readily took to her guidance and instructions.
Gerri smiled when she felt Roman’s erection against her leg. Well, more like, Roman rubbed himself against her leg. Briefly, she noted to herself that she wasn’t sure when they got on the bed. Roman palmed himself and closed his eyes in ecstasy.
Gerri smirked at how easily turned on and satisfied Roman was.
His eyes flew up and he looked at her, intent and vulnerable, yet reassuring.
Their lips connected again as Roman shifted Gerri, so that she was on her back and he was on top.
Roman rubbed himself against her leg once more and, at Gerri’s questioning look, the young man shook his head.
He wasn’t ready for that.
Not yet at least.
Instead, he planted his face between Gerri’s legs, eager to please as his wet, hot tongue made her wriggle on the bed.
It wasn’t the best orgasm she’s ever had, but there was something about the tenderness and intimacy that warmed Gerri to her bones. Roman felt humbled; his reverance was palpable.
Gerri tasted herself on his tongue and she’d never felt closer to anyone than in that moment.
Cockily, Roman smiled at her as a finger trailed up her leg. Gerri shivered. “Where’s your toys, Ger? I know a stone cold bitch like you always packs one.”
Her lips were pressed together in a thin line before she nodded to the nightstand.
That night--well, that afternoon--Gerri got an idea of the kind of lover Roman was. He was unpredictable, but attentive; goofy, yet serious. Flinched away from desire, but craved a deep and all consuming intimacy.
Always the fucking contradiction.
Baird wasn’t a prude when it came to sex, but Roman was chaotic energy personified, which she later found out down the line.
But, in that moment, Roman fucked her with the dildo. He got on top of Gerri and fucked her with the dildo as if it was his own dick.
Afterwards, once Gerri came again, after she collected herself, Gerri switched things up herself. She took Roman in her hands and repeatedly brought him close to the edge before stopping before he came. It both drove Roman insane and turned him on even more. He moaned and whined as he tried to fuck her hand off her wrist. Gerri chided him before continuing.
For her grand finale, Gerri put him in her mouth and, seconds later, he abruptly pulled out her mouth and came on her shirt.
Trying to bite back a laugh, he said, “Fuck me! I’m...I’m sorry, Ger.”
He clapped a hand against his mouth, but laughed anyways.
Gerri was too euphoric to be upset about her shirt. And she knew that she could get Roman to buy her another one (or he’d buy a more expensive one for her).
So, maybe they were dating and she just couldn’t say it out loud...she just couldn’t admit it.
They were untraditional to say the least, but that didn’t make what they had less valid, especially after what they just did. Gerri knew that she wouldn’t do that with just anyone, hell, she didn’t even do it with her husband.
Roman moving in with her wasn’t one of those ‘his stuff just started to pile up at my place’ situations. After they began having sex, he never left.
To be fair, he’d spent a lot of time at her apartment before then. Slept over countless days. Bit, afterwards, there were no breaks and Gerri found that she didn’t mind.
And he paid her bills.
Gerri had been giving Roman shit about calling the apartment their place, since she lived their first and paid all of the bills. The next day, he paid her rent for the rest of the year.
“Roman, I was just fucking with you,” Gerri said in disbelief.
He grinned. “Ehh...I’m already doing this normie, blue velvet human centipede bullshit, might as well go balls deep into it.”
Gerri furrowed her eyes in confusion and disgust before deciding it was better to not touch the comment at all.
Day by day, he brought random shit to her apartment from his. By the end of the week, Roman was all moved in.
When he should’ve stuck out like a sore thumb, Roman felt as if he’d always belonged in her apartment--their apartment. The decor didn’t change, it was as clean as it always was, his presence just added to the apartment without taking anything from it.
Gerri arched her back and Roman pulled her hips closer.
Sometimes, she believed they had sex more on this couch than they did on the bed (either way, it was hard to prove, but they had sex on that couch a lot).
Between the two of them, Gerri got the better deal: she was actually sitting down with her back resting against pillows. Roman was in an awkward angle: partially on top of Gerri with his pants bunched around his thighs and his feet trying hard not to slip.
Roman balanced himself by holding her hips and leaning his forehead against hers.
She could still taste herself as she moved her tongue around in her mouth. That was Roman’s thing, especially if she was watching TV. He’d get down between her legs and bury his face deep in her cunt until she was three seconds from pulling his hair out. Sometimes, he’d finish her off and looked pleased with himself afterwards. But, sometimes....sometimes, he’d get up off of his knees and slid into her, desperate and needy. He had to feel her--he needed to be inside Gerri.
On the couch and in this angle, Roman knew Gerri preferred a moderate pace. Only rarely was shit a hard and quick kind of gal. Mainly, she liked it nice and slow. It made her feel closer to Roman and it made Roman feel protected and cared for.
Intimacy and penetration wasn't a barrier for him anymore. He still got hard at being shamed, but he could get and maintain an erection without it. He loved to partake in foreplay with Gerri and explore fantasies that didn’t center around him being humiliated. Sometimes, he was valued and adored and, other times, like now, he got hard at how wet his partner was for him.
Gerri stilled against Roman for moment, and then gently rubbed the back of his neck once she exhaled. “Come for be, honey.”
She kissed his ear.
“Aw fuck,” he groaned.
Moments later, Roman slumped against Gerri and exaggeratedly sighed in satisfaction.
Gerri chuckled to herself as Roman slid to his knees and rested against her.
He couldn’t possibly be comfortable like this, could he?
Caressing his hair, Gerri leaned back even more comfortably into the couch. This works; they work. They fit.
The Rockstar and the Molewoman.
“Roman.” Gerri gently ran her fingers through his hair. Her boyfriend mumbled ‘yea’ into her lap. “I’ll cut your dick off.”
Whipping his head up, Roman stared at Gerri in disbelief. “Seriously?”
Gerri nodded as she shook her head yes. “Yea...seriously.”
Roman jumped up and did a double fist pump. “Yea! Fuck yeah!"
Out loud, Gerri laugh at her now fiancé and his celebrating as his little dick swung around.
This was the man she was going to marry.
Roman interrupted her laughter with his joyous kisses and Gerri couldn't had been any happier.