Page 42 of Omission: Part 2

In our bed, there will be a time for gentle and sweet, but this isn’t it.

He fucks my mouth without pause.

My male takes his pleasure while shifting the soaked-in-me fingers from my pussy to my rosebud and begins to force his way in. Not because he wants to hurt me—I find that a little pain is a beautiful thing when there’s trust—but because I’m small and tight.

He works them in with steady pressure, every once in a while stopping to spread them and then pump his digits in deeper until bottoming out. Ecstasy. Between the gurgling sounds of him owning my throat, pumping his full length into my throat, and the slight burn in my derrière:

I do something I didn’t know was possible.

This orgasm is different and unexpected, and I lose control of my lower half, soaking his chest. I’m shaking and my core is clenching, and if I’ve reached his face; I have no clue. Not that I care, either. I’m too busy swallowing every drop of his come when he bellows my name a few seconds later.

16

ANAYA

Something can be said for the basic lack of filter and decorum after a release so intense that you take a nap immediately after. There was no rousing me from sleep or feeding me, and I give the culprit to my predicament a stinky-eyed face like the ones in my sticker box.

There aren’t that many in the package to begin with. My guess is the company wanted to focus more on thehappystickers and not so much on the grumpy ones, but the expression works after being left a shaky, messy, sleepy lump of fae.

That was hours ago, and it’sstillall his fault. Not on me at all.

“I love private picnics, Leonardo. I will retract my complaint now.”

He stops carrying me then. Just pauses and looks down at me with the smuggest grin on his face.Keep looking at me like that, Leo. I’ll bite you again.“I’ll wear them with pride, my love.”

“Stop it. Behave.”

“Do you really want me to?” he asks, brow cocked.

“No. Negative. Never.” No pause. No hesitation. Maybe I answered a little too fast and I might be blushing a bit, but I’m not called out on it. Instead, he bites back his laugh.Such a good male.“But seriously, I am tired and happy and ready for a third nap.”

“Then let’s get you to bed.” Clearing my throat, I bring a hand up to his face before he starts walking. He lets me cup his cheek for a few seconds, five at the most, before turning his head and nuzzling my palm. Places a chaste kiss at the center. “I love you, Anaya.”

“That’s cheating.” It leaves me a little breathy. A slight whine at the end. “I love you, too.”

“All’s fair.”

“You suck.” And before he can respond, because I’m aware I did just say that, I place a finger over his lips. There’s something I want him to hear. “Leonardo Moore, I need you to understand that I never doubted you. Not for one second.”

He licks my finger and then nudges it away with his chin. “But you didn’t come to me either. We are a team, my heart. Your burdens are mine, too.”

“I’m beginning to understand that.” It’s the complete truth. He’s shown me as much through every obstacle we’ve faced so far. “I’m sorry, my male.”

“Nothing for me to forgive. Just let me take care of you.”

“I’m all yours.” That declaration earns me a sweet kiss on the lips before we continue the walk home. Atlas is trotting up ahead, happy and leading the way back onto the property, but when he heads to what I now realize is a stable and not a storage building, Leo walks toward our home.

People greet us as we pass them, many stopping to hold our hand for a moment. It’s a practice he started when young, and after seeing him do it unconsciously a few times, I asked him about it when I first arrived.

“My people have been through so much, precious one. They lost their king and queen, my sisters, and all they had left was me—a child. Thirteen summers just isn’t a lot of living, I had no idea what I was doing, but I gave them what I could. Holding a witch’s hand or placing my forehead against a guard birthed a connection to me. To the monarchs of the past and the future, I vowed on my life to protect.” Leonardo’s expression is soft. One I only ever see around me. “The simple act gave them peace in a world where Wiccans were being hunted and our enemies were closer than we ever thought.”

“Don’t they look cozy?” His words snap me out of the memory, and I turn my attention toward the area he’s pointing to. More specifically, the people sitting there.

My maman and Uncle Roberto are sitting on a bench, side by side, and smiling. She’s talking, and he’s nodding while a group of children squeal past on their way to an evening lesson. They look at ease, not stressed or with an uncomfortable expression on either of their faces, and the sight soothes my soul for different reasons.

With my king, it’s all-consuming and passion and tenderness.

With them, it’s happiness because I love them both, each in their own way, and I want nothing more than to see them given a second chance. A real chance at love, even if it’s not with each other.

---