Page 47 of Gemini Kings
Didn’t they miss us at all? The way we missed them?
Zara rolls away from Ronin to face me. That soft sweet smile I just adore curves her lips and lights up her gorgeous pinup girl face.
“Oh Neo,” she breathes in her husky sleep voice. “We’re jet-lagged, baby. You were both in class. I know I screwed up and I know I hurt you. And I missed you bothsomuch. Come right over here.”
And that’s all she needs to say, actually, for me to have a hard time remembering that I’m mad at her.
I drop my backpack to the floor and get across that room in five seconds tops. Even though I’m trying hard not to gallop, Vasili would still make fun of me for being so eager if he was here. Zara pushes back the blanket to make room for me. She’s sleeping in her white schoolgirl panties and one of Lucius’ Oxford shirts like she always prefers, which makes me slightly less mad at her.
I basically dive-bomb the bed and drag her into my arms and smother her with desperate kisses.
She gasps and giggles and moans all at once, her arms twining around my neck, her legs parting to wrap around me. The feel of her drives me so crazy, she always does, she’s so warm and sleek and eager. The flowery sweetness of her mating scent fills my head and the cinnamon toothpaste taste of her mouth makes my lips tingle.
I groan and rut into her like an animal, hips burrowing and thrusting into her, one hand spearing through her hair to hold her, the other shoving up the crisp fabric of Lucius’ shirt to find her smooth tummy and the lush swell of her breast. Her little ring nudges my palm and her nipple puckers, hard and eager, against my hand.
“Oh God, Neo,” she breathes into my kiss on a long shaky sigh. “God, I missed you.”
She’s sweating and hot as a furnace pressed against me, because it’s almost time for her heat. It’s only her second one, and if she’d stayed away any longer, I might’ve totally missed it.
That thought makes me so crazy I’m having a hard time thinking.
I keep kneading her boob (because she’s into that, and so am I) but I stop palming her hair and get my hand down between us to cup the cotton schoolgirl panties stretched over the hot slit of her pussy.
“Off,” I grunt like a Neanderthal into the urgent suck of her mouth, trying to drag the fabric down her hips while I’m still rutting into her. My dick’s already shoved up against the zipper of my chinos, it’s hard enough to hurt, and precum is dampening the crotch of my boxer briefs.
“Neo,” she moans, squirming under me to help, dragging my shirt free of my trousers and tearing at my belt. Her tongue shoves deep into my mouth and I lick at her sharp incisors.
Craving for her bite knifes through me, like I’ve just been stabbed with one of Vasili’s cache of blades, which is totally a risk since he’s still a snake, even if we’re all sharing a bed these days.
This craving of mine for Zara’s bite is totally stupid though, because she doesn’t have fangs and she doesn’t bite (except, you know, love nips).
Then my beloved wrestles my buckle open and drags my zipper down and wiggles her demanding fingers through the slit in my briefs to wrap around my dick.
That just makes me crave her worse.
God, she makes me so crazy. I shove into her grip with a deep groan and drag her panties down her legs.
“Easy, love,” Ronin murmurs in my ear, his hard hand soothing as it slicks down my back and tugs at my blazer. “Let me help you out a bit, yeah?”
I growl and stiffen up all over, partly because Zara’s started jacking me and I don’t want to lose it and come in my pants.
But only partly for that reason.
“Not you.” I twist my head to glare at him. “She never answers her phone and I figured it would just short out anyway. But you totally ghosted my calls for days. I’m mad at you.”
Ronin stops tugging at my clothes and flops down on the pillow with a heartfelt groan.
“Told you,” he says glumly to Zara. “I’m in the bloody doghouse. And for good reason. I’m absolute rubbish at relationships. Always have been. Never know what to say when I bollocks it up. And it’s going to be ten times worse with Lucius.”
He really has no idea, but I’m not talking about this now. I’ve finally managed to work Zara’s panties down her silky showgirl legs and she’s kicking out of them. I get my hand between her thighs to cup her soft, bare, wonderful pussy.
Oh Lord, she’s already so slick and so wet and so ready for me.
“Babe,” I moan, working one finger deep into her soaking channel. “Oh my God, you’re so hot. Your heat’s starting, isn’t it?”
“Umph.” Grunting, she clamps tight around me and rocks her hips into me with that eagerness that’s part of what made me dive headlong into her and fall so deep in love I can’t even find the surface of what used to be me anymore. “Um… day or two to go yet, I think.”
It doesn’t feel that way to me, it feels like she’s ready now.
