Page 37 of My Pucking Life
She takes a breath and sip of her cider before continuing, “The souls situation was also strange and even harder to explain. They didn't want anything from me. They didn't say anything. They just kind of wrapped themselves around me before floating towards the sky. It wasn't just after the prayer song. India had done it first. I don't even know if that's considered a power, but being able to feel their souls was…it was so many things. I should have been frightened, but it was an almost comforting feeling. And their souls…with the way they died, you'd have thought their souls would be angry or tarnished in some way. Humans believe that souls that experience profound trauma can become trapped to haunt the earth, never being able to pass on and truly rest…” she trails off, lost in thought.
“What if that's it?” Andrei's voice breaks Leera from her thoughts.
Her brows scrunch in confusion. “What's it?”
“The power,” he says, before elaborating, “What if wolves’ spirits are the same way? Maybe you allowed their souls to peacefully return to the Moon Goddess without the agony of what they went through?”
Leera's eyes fill with tears, and there are nods and thoughtful faces around the room.
“Are there not any elders that would know? Maybe someone at the palace—" Benny suggests before I cut him off.
“No.”
All eyes fly to meet mine.
“Asking around will spread the word. The royal shift was already felt. If we start asking questions, it will reach our enemies, and that’s not currently an option. When it is, we will find out everything we can. We just wanted to make you all fully aware, and if anyone had thoughts, they could be discussed,” I end with a stern finality.
After another couple hours of general discussion regarding all that we've been encountering these recent months and fine-tuning our plans moving forward, yawns begin to spread through the room, signaling everyone's need for rest.
As Leera and I bid good evening to our family as they make their way out of the room, the energy between us begins to change, casting the trickle of awareness across my skin. While she says good night to Matilda, I lightly trace my fingers up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. When I finally reach the collar of her shirt, I gently run my finger just along the inside of her collar. Her body is stuck between fighting to maintain composure in front of Matilda and melting completely into my touch. The scent of her arousal begins to fill the room, and she's biting her lip to keep from gasping or moaning. Matilda shoots me a knowing scold before bidding us good evening and leaving the dining room.
Leera turns sharply, swatting at my chest, her face violently blushing a crimson red. “Roman! Was that really necessary?” she whisper-screeches at me playfully.
Smirking, I nod and hold my hand out to her, and she instantly accepts. I pull her body into mine, nuzzling her neck and her new mark. “I think I deserve a reward.” My voice rumbles against her skin, causing her to shiver and sigh.
“And what exactly are you being rewarded for?” She quirks a dark gray eyebrow at me with an ornery smile.
Leaning forward, I knead my fingers into the supple skin of her perfect little ass, lifting her off of her feet and even tighter against me. Her body perfectly answering mine, wrapping her legs around my waist, her arms winding around my neck. “For not ravaging you in front of everyone. I haven't been able to truly think clearly since I carried you down from the roof. I never knew fuzzy pink burritos were my thing,” I tease.
She throws her head back on an abrupt laugh, exposing her neck to me and making me instantly hard against her, not that I wasn't already well on my way. She seems to notice as well because when her head levels and her eyes meet mine once more, her lids are hooded, and the brilliant icy-blue of her eyes is quickly becoming clouded with lust.
“Take me to bed, mate,” she says in a demanding voice I was not expecting from her, making me groan and stumble to dart through the door and to our room.
27
By the time Roman kicks the bedroom door shut, my patience has expired. My fingers find their place, locked in his sandy hair as I crash my mouth against his. I don't know if it's our still-fresh mate bond or the forearm incident from earlier, but I feel crazed with need. Not like my heat, where I felt possessed and completely out of control of my body, though. No, this is a need I have control over, and that control says I want my mate now.
His body answers mine in every way, our bond filled with the love, need, and devotion to each other. I remove my hands from his hair and pull away from our kiss just long enough to rip my shirt off over my head. The second it hits the floor, my lips latch back onto his, our tongues tangling as I reach behind me to unclasp my bra and toss it to the floor with my shirt.
Roman groans into the kiss before taking a moment to also remove his shirt, then kicks off his shoes. I can't get enough. I need more. He lifts me slightly higher, moving his hands beneath me, causing a bit of friction just where I need it but stops, and I realize he was undoing and dropping his pants.
My hands scramble for purchase, running along the muscles in his abs, arms, shoulders, and back, tracing my nails along every ridge and valley in my reach. His hands teasingly glide up my legs, stopping to grip my ass and move higher, latching onto the waistband of my leggings. Using both of his hands, he peels my leggings from around my waist and as far as he can until my thighs spread around him, stopping them from being pulled any farther.
He turns us around so that my back is barely resting against the door as he begins to awaken every nerve ending my body with his touch. His legs are slightly spread in a solid stance to support my body between himself and the door, allowing him to balance me while keeping his hands available.
At first, each hand finds one of my nipples, swirling around the rose-colored flesh before pinching and twisting the tender and puckered buds. My breath is coming in pants as I watch his calloused fingers work me deeper into the spiraling need. When he's finished with my nipples, he kneads my breast for a moment before teasingly grazing his fingers down my torso, making a ring around my belly button, and finally closing in exactly where I want him.
But then he stops, with a wicked smile on his face.
“Roman?” I breathe, wriggling in search of contact.
He makes a show of running his hands on my legs before meeting the apex of my thighs, but instead of touching me, he uses his thumbs to separate my tender folds and just looks at me.
“Rom—”
“Touch yourself,” he commands in a husky voice that causes another rush of wetness that I know he can see.
I feel the blush rising. He's still looking directly at my core. “W-what?” I ask.
