From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 177

**Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**
**Chapter 177**

He let out a low groan, sinking deeper into the warmth of the space I had created just for him. My fingers found their way into his hair, tugging gently, pulling him closer as if I were trying to anchor myself to the fire that had ignited between us.

The kiss intensified, sending me spiraling into a dizzying haze, my lips swollen and my chest rising and falling in quick succession. His hand slid up my side, a bold move that cupped my breast through the thin fabric of my tank top, his thumb brushing against my nipple and sending a jolt of electricity through me. I couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped my lips, muffled against his mouth.

“Take it off,” I urged, my voice a breathy whisper interspersed with moans of pleasure.

He tore his lips from mine, just long enough to rip the tank top over my head and toss it aside, a wild look in his eyes. The intensity of his gaze darkened, and I could see his chest rise and fall with a primal urgency. Then, without hesitation, his mouth latched onto me, hot and greedy, his lips and tongue swirling around my nipple, igniting a firestorm of sensations.

I cried out, arching my back, my hands clutching at his head, desperate for more of this intoxicating connection. He sucked, licked, and bit with a relentless fervor, his hand pinning my hip down to keep me still beneath him.

Every tug of his mouth sent sparks shooting through my body, tightening my core with an insatiable yearning. I trembled, aching for him, needing him closer than ever. Somehow, he understood my whispered plea, his mouth growing even more eager.

My hands, too, were filled with a greedy desire. They roamed over his strong shoulders, down his back, grasping at the firm muscles beneath my fingertips, craving to feel him everywhere. I found his belt, fumbling with it, the metal clinking sharply in the haze of our heated moment. With a swift motion, I pulled it open and dragged down his zipper, eliciting a deep groan from him that vibrated against my skin as I slipped my hand inside his boxers, wrapping my fingers around him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his hips instinctively jerking into my palm.

I started to stroke him slowly at first, savoring the weight, the heat, the angry veins that lined his length. His forehead dropped to my chest, muffling his moans against me as I quickened my pace, my hand slick with his arousal. Each sound he made unraveled me further, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my veins.

The tension between us burned hotter, an insatiable need pushing us both closer to the precipice. And then, through the haze of desire, his voice emerged, quiet yet reverent, a confession he could no longer keep buried.

“I love you, Sav.”

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