From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 294

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**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**

**Chapter 294**

My lips brushed against hers, not with urgency, but with a gentle yearning. Despite the countless arguments that had passed between us, the spark ignited by our kiss remained undiminished. In fact, it had only intensified, weaving itself into the very essence of who we were.

“Savannah,” I whispered against her lips, my voice a low, rumbling murmur that resonated deep within her. She wound her fingers through my hair, drawing me closer, as if trying to fuse our bodies into one.

“Roman,” she breathed, a soft moan escaping her. “Make love to me now.”

Without hesitation, I replied, “Let’s create a baby, my love.”

Her eyes sparkled with excitement, a glimmer of hope and joy reflecting in them. She nodded eagerly, and I could feel the anticipation radiating from her.

With deliberate slowness, I pulled down my sweatpants and kicked them away, feeling her gaze glued to me. Our bodies met, skin on skin, a seamless union that felt both familiar and exhilarating. I shifted, positioning myself between her thighs, savoring the moment. There was no need to rush; this was ours to enjoy.

My hands roamed over her body, reacquainting myself with every perfect curve. The gentle slope of her hip, the delicate indent of her waist, the soft swell of her breast—each touch sent jolts of electricity through me. God, she was breathtaking.

As my thumb brushed against her nipple, a throaty gasp escaped her lips, and I watched her reactions unfold like a beautiful tapestry—the freckles adorning her nose, the way her eyes darkened with pleasure.

I did this. I was the one who made her feel this way. I had the power to evoke such beauty in the most exquisite girl I had ever known.

“Good?” I asked, my voice a low growl.

“Always good with you,” she replied, her voice thick and sultry. She tilted her hips, an unspoken invitation. “Always.”

I eased into her slowly, deliberately, savoring the sensation of stretching her, filling her completely. A sigh escaped us both, mingling in the stillness of the room, a sound that spoke of shared intimacy.

This was not merely a physical act; it was a return home.

“Oh, fuck,” she moaned, her eyes darting down to where we were joined in the most intimate way. “Oh my God…”

“Eyes on me, baby,” I commanded softly.

Her gaze locked onto mine, and I began to move. Each thrust was deep and measured, creating a rhythm that felt as ancient as time itself, yet utterly unique to us. Every stroke was intentional, a promise fulfilled, a bond reforged.

Outside our warm sanctuary, the world faded into oblivion. All that remained were her passionate moans, the sound of our bodies colliding, the hitch of our breaths, and the creaking of the bed beneath us.

Her fingers dug into the slick muscles of my shoulders, and her hair fanned out across the pillow like a halo—my angel, my everything.

Low, involuntary moans escaped her lips, punctuating our fervent connection. I joined her, my own sounds raw and possessive.

“Fuck, baby,” I groaned, my voice thick with desire. “You feel… perfect.” My thrusts deepened, urgency creeping in, yet I remained in control, always attuned to her needs.