Page 7 of Omission: Part 2

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LEONARDO

“You’ve never been anything but mine, my precious one. I’m here for you. Was born to love you,” I growl before slanting my mouth over hers, taking what I need. And while we need to talk and fix whatever put that look on her face a few seconds ago, I’ll start by reassuring her first.

Physically. Emotionally. Then I’ll eradicate the issue:

What’s left of her family and Silla. Whoever poses a threat to our union.

The constant desire I feel for this beautiful woman goes beyond hunger or rationality—there’s so much more to us, and no one will threaten this connection.

This bond feels deeper. Is all-consuming.

As if I’d owned her heart for centuries and her hand had been held by mine for just as long.

When I see Anaya, I’m reminded of the happiness on my parents’ faces when they were in each other’s presence. Of the times my father explained that my mother was his home and his peace.

The love of a good woman cannot be measured by gold, Leo. Nothing will compare to the way a simple smile will center you or how the moments of pain—inevitable darkness—fade as you seek solace in her arms.

And while my fae queen is all those things and more to me; his explanation of what a true mating is, and whatweare, doesn’t do us justice. We transcend. We burn too bright to contain.

A moan slips from Anaya and into my mouth, causing me to hiss in response as that slick slit rubs over my cock, the engorged head bumping her clit with each stroke. Something she rewards me for by gifting me those precious little mewls, each one a bit higher in pitch, and I flick my tongue against hers, reveling in the way she’s dripping for me.

Because she’s bathing me in her excitement, and I’ve learned my beauty has a few weaknesses I’m not ashamed to explore:

I lick her fangs one at a time, not giving a single fuck if they cut me.

They’re sharp and smooth, and I feel the small prick as Aya’s pleasure turns into the most adorable tiny growl. This time, she’s trying to buck me off from beneath and take control. I don’t move, though. Instead, I savor her taste mixed with my blood, the dots only heightening Anaya’s arousal, and I revel as her body rewards me with an all-body shiver.

“Goddess, Leo. I taste us.” Wrong. It’s not my blood that overpowers my senses—this passionate sweetness is simply her—and I repay her gift with aggressive desperation as I ravage her mouth. I take her lips as if this were my first and last taste; it’s how I’ll always kiss her.

I can’t get enough of her. Never will.

Giving and taking, I memorize every inch of her mouth as my tongue slides across hers before nipping her top and bottom lip. And my queen doesn’t fight her male for dominance, not because she has to submit to me, but because Aya wants to be mine.

Just like my possessiveness of her is only matched by her ownership of me.

“You’re so fucking sweet, love.”

“More. Give me more of you,” she whimpers, body arching beneath mine. Then, there’s the way Anaya spreads her lithe thighs a little wider and each time she gyrates—rubs her pink flesh over her mating mark—my thickness gives a harsh jerk. My pre-come mixes with her juices, creating the most intoxicating scent. “I need you, my male.”

“Then take all of me.” To provoke that beautiful creature that claimed me last night to come out and play, I pull back and give a sharp buck of my hips, roughly pushing my cock through her slick lips while lowering my full body weight on her. I’m covering Anaya from head to toe. My precious one feels so good—looks like perfection like this—a sentiment she shares as another rush of her wetness coats us and the bedsheets.

Anaya knows her place will always be beneath me, on top of me, but always with her legs spread and holes on display for her king. Just as I will never deny her. All that I am is hers, and when it’s impossible to be present for me as duty takes precedence and our people have to come first, I will always have access to her.

Pussy. Ass. Mouth.

All three are mine, and I will never neglect her. Will always make her pleasure my priority.

“You’re teasing me, love. That’s not nice,” Anaya hisses from between clenched teeth, flashing me her lovely little fangs. Her violet eyes are darker now, too. The pupils are blown wide and her nostrils flare a tiny bit, pulling my scent into her lungs. And the more she breathes me in, the harder her nipples pebble.

The more she arches up, offering her tits and pretty pink cunt.

“My apologies, precious one. Let me make it better.” Bending my head, I take a stiff peak between my teeth and flick the tender flesh. Anaya is petite in stature, a breathing doll, but her curves are downright sinful. She’s all childbearing hips and a perfectly round ass, but the perky, bigger-than-a-handful tits I’m cupping will forever be my downfall. They sit high on her chest and are littered with love bites from our mating, the perfect imprint of my teeth left behind, and I vow then that a single day will never pass without me tattooing myself on her flesh.

Be it by my seed.

Be it by my teeth.

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