From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 496

Chapter 496

Her expression changed instantly. The tears didn’t vanish, but

warmth returned to her gaze. Relief. Trust. Hope.

She threw herself into my arms without warning. Her body fit against

mine like it always had. Her lips found mine in a kiss that wasn’t

hesitant or shy.

It was grateful. Emotional. Alive. And electricity shot through me.

My hands wrapped around her instinctively, pulling her closer. The world narrowed to warmth and breath and the taste of her mouth. I

deepened the kiss without thinking, hunger rising fast and fierce.

–

She responded for a moment then pulled back abruptly, breathless. “Roman,” she murmured, pressing her forehead to mine, her fingers

tracing lightly along my jaw. “Not yet.”

Frustration flared instantly. “I know,” I muttered.

She smiled softly, brushing her fingers through my hair. “You need to

heal first.”

I exhaled sharply but didn’t argue. Not after everything she had just

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Chapter 496

said. Not after what I had promised.

She helped me back onto the bed and retrieved the tray of food. The

aroma hit me then, reminding me that I was actually hungry. I didn’t

even realize.

“Eat,” she said gently. She sat beside me, lifting a spoon toward my

mouth.

I accepted it reluctantly. The act felt strangely intimate yet strange. Domestic. Peaceful in a way I didn’t trust. Almost like I couldn’t do it

myself.

Halfway through, I slid an arm around her waist and pulled her into

my lap.

She gasped softly, steadying the tray. “Roman—”

“I’m

“If I can’t have you the way I want,” I murmured near her ear,

making the most of what I can. I’m taking what I’m allowed, my love.”

She gave me a look–half warning, half amusement, but she didn’t move away. Instead she adjusted slightly, straddling my lap more

securely so she could continue feeding me.

The contact was torture.

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Chapter 496

Her warmth seeped through fabric and skin alike. Every small

movement of hers, every shift of her weight, sent awareness rippling

through me in waves I refused to acknowledge aloud.

Then she laughed quietly, knowing exactly what she was doing to me.

The sound loosened something in my chest that had been tight.

Fucking temptress.

She continued feeding me, her movements slower now, her body

warm against mine. Every brush of her breasts against my chest, every grind of her pussy against my cock, sent a fresh wave of

awareness through me.

When the tray was empty, she set it aside and stood, offering her

hand. “Come,” she said. “Let me help you shower.”

I took her hand without protest.

The bathroom filled with steam as warm water began to run. She

moved carefully, helping me clean without wetting the bandages, exhibiting a certain practiced gentleness. Her touch was clinical, focused–but her breathing betrayed the tension simmering beneath

the surface.

I watched her the entire time. And she knew. Of course she knew.

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Her hands moved carefully, cleansing, avoiding injuries, attentive to

every reaction. The quiet between us was thick with something heavy.

When she finished, she reached for a towel. But I caught her wrist.

She looked up.

For a moment we simply stared at each other. No anger. No fear. Only

intensity. Then I stepped forward, backing her gently against the

wall. Her breath caught.

My lips found her neck. A kiss. Then another. Followed by the faintest

brush of teeth against sensitive skin. Her fingers tightened against

my shoulders.

The room seemed to shrink around us. Everything else disappeared.

I breathed her in, memorizing the warmth of her pulse beneath my

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