Page 13

W hile I was initially surprised and a bit embarrassed at the way Roman tossed me over his shoulder, my embarrassment quickly melted into need. It looks like I can add “being man-handled" to the list of things that he does that make my panties wet…which he's also taken notice of. I know because I hear him take in a large breath through his nose, followed by a deliciously low growl that reverberates through my core.

“Does my sweet little mate like to be thrown around?” he taunts, his voice dripping with promise.

I try to maintain my cool, but my voice comes out too breathy when I respond, “I don't know what you're talking about,” I lie to both of us.

My wolf scoffs at me, and Roman chuckles in an obnoxiously sexy way.

Why is everything he does such a turn-on? It's getting—

My thoughts are cut off when he heaves my small body back over his shoulder, lightly dropping me on the plush bedding. He looms over me with that wickedly delightful look in his eyes. I don't know how long I just drink him in. Starting with his sandy hair, moving to his eyes—one blue, one green—both absolutely devastating, but my view is impeded by him removing his shirt. I suppose that was worth the brief distraction. His strong jaw and muscled shoulders make the most famous sculptures around the world look like wimps, and that's before you get to his pecs and chiseled abs leading straight to that glorious V muscle, drawing me in to exactly where I want to go.

My mouth waters at the thought, so I make my move and crawl over to him. “And what do you think you're doing?” he asks with his eyes shining with love and burning for me.

“I find I'm famished and only craving one thing,” I say with a smile as I look into his eyes while unclasping his jeans, granting me access to what I want. I lower his boxers and wrap my hand around him. He's smooth as silk and hard as steel, and he's all mine.

I carefully trace the veins, causing him to jerk in my grasp. Making eye contact once more, I slowly lean in, licking him completely from bottom to tip. Once I've done that a few times and his hand snakes gently into my hair, holding my head, I lower my mouth completely over the tip.

“Fuck,” he breathes, and I can feel my heartbeat between my legs.

I groan around him, and his hips jerk slightly. I begin moving to my own rhythm, taking him as far as I comfortably can, swirling my tongue around, and then sucking hard on the way back up while he curses and moans, his grip on my hair tightening ever so slightly. It's enough that he has my attention without an ounce of pain, and when my core clenches at the action, I add that to my list of things that turn me on and tuck them away for later. All of a sudden, Roman is quite literally yanking me off his dick, leaving my mouth with a popping sound. “All right, Princess, that's enough of that. You come first. Always.”

Well, who am I to argue with that?

He begins pulling away all the layers I was wearing at the game, starting with my jersey, when he growls, “One day I'll fuck you wearing just my jersey. Would you like that?”

All I can do is nod while my mouth waters at the thought of him finally marking me, and a shiver ripples through my body. I lean back, allowing him to pull off my skirt and leggings, leaving me in the matching maroon set of lingerie I managed to hide from him until the game tonight. He takes a step back and takes me in; there's need and love burning in his gaze when I start to squirm. “Roman,” I plead.

He removes his pants from his ankles torturously slow, knowing I'm watching his every move before he crawls over me on the bed and crashes his lips to mine. I'll never get used to the electricity pinging through my body from his touch. I match the need and urgency in his kiss, arching my body into his, moaning into his lips. He finally pulls away, and his nearly glowing gaze finds mine as he moves in and begins kissing behind my ear. One hand is barely pinching my nipple, while the other traces the lightest circles around my clit. His mouth finally makes it to my other breast, sucking my other nipple into his mouth and gently nipping at the little bud.

I cry out at all the glorious sensations rippling through my body. It's like each part of my body is an instrument that only he knows how to play, and it's causing an entire symphony in my very bloodstream. It continues to crescendo and staccato through every fiber of my being while I pant and praise his name. “More,” I beg, but he shocks my entire system when he pulls away completely. “Wh-what are you doing?” I whimper.

“Oh, don't worry, I'm not done with you yet, my little miracle.” He leans down and leaves open-mouthed kisses on the inside of my thigh, and I'm not prepared for the intensity of that simple act. I'm also not prepared as he moves higher and sucks on the tender skin on the highest point of my inner thigh.

My back arches off the bed, hard. “Please, Roman!”

His mouth finally, and entirely too lightly, reaches the sweet bundle of nerves, and my eyes slam shut at the force of how close I am to falling off that wonderful cliff. I'm focused entirely on the beautifully filthy things his mouth is doing when he slides his fingers into my core and my body catches fire. He adds a second finger and slides them in until he reaches my resistance and holds them there while he devours me.

“Oh…G-God…Please, don't stop,” I plead as I feel the swell of pleasure filling me.

At my words, his other hand climbs my body and latches onto one of my nipples, essentially flinging me into the abyss, screaming his name.

It always feels like an out-of-body experience when he makes me come, and I have to wonder if everyone feels this way. My body feels like all my bones have been dissolved and no longer hold any form of structural integrity.

When I fully come back to my body, I'm nearly ready to go again at the sight beside me. Roman is sitting, his back leaning against the headboard, stroking himself, ever so slowly.

I roll over onto my stomach between his legs. “Why don't you let me take care of that?” I ask, trying my best to be sultry and hoping I'm doing it right.

He smiles at me and crooks his finger, beckoning me closer. I oblige and move so that I'm just in front of him, close enough that I stick my tongue out and lick the end of his dick that he's still slowly stroking.

“When will I have all of you?” I accidentally think out loud, and he stops for a moment.

“I've only been trying to make sure you were ready and that it was perfect,” he swears, lightly trailing his fingers across my skin.

I lean into him and sigh. “I am definitely ready,” I pout.

He smiles. “I know, Leera. That's why I’ve been working on what I hope is the perfect night.” It's really not fair that he's that fucking gorgeous when he smiles that I can't even be irritated with him.

I roll my eyes and climb into his lap, positioning myself just over his hardened length. “A plan, huh?” I taunt while I begin to grind myself against him. His head falls back while he breathes a staggered, “yes.” I continue grinding on him, that now-familiar feeling rising within me while I watch my movements impact this strong, immortal man, and it drives me to move faster.

“Oh, fuck,” we groan in unison, causing me to giggle.

Looking down to watch where our bodies touch, ready for more, I continue to rock my hips until his large hands clamp down on my hips and my head flies up to meet his eyes. In them I find nothing but burning need when he growls, “My turn.”

He starts slowly, moving at just the right angle to rub himself against my clit without being inside of me. Once he's happy with his rhythm, he speeds up as well until his movements become erratic, and when I move in to kiss him, he pulls away, and I notice his teeth have lengthened, which tells me not to push it because it's taking all of his willpower not to mark me now incompletely. The sight is my undoing, and the orgasm barrels through my body before I even know what's happening, Roman right behind me, roaring his release.

I fall into a heap of flesh against his chest. My heart clenches a little that I still didn't get my way and get to experience making love to my mate, but I know it's because he's doing right by me.

Maybe I put too much pressure on waiting. I snort to myself before sleep pulls me under.

The next day starts like most; the guys are off to their day-after-game-day meeting to watch the film from the game. They study their errors and opportunities, but this time the men will also be studying the Warriors to see if there's any indications about what their problems were at the game.

My plan for the day is also in motion. I texted Willa after the guys left and asked if she was available to meet for coffee or something so that we could talk. I'm hoping she knows something about prophecies so that, for once, there's a way that I'm able to help. I loathe feeling useless.

I'm pulled out of my self-directed angry thoughts by the ping of my phone.

I can successfully mark that off my to-do list.

Shit, that sounded mean.

Excuse me? I don't-freaking-think so.

I hope he gets in trouble for not paying attention during the film review , I huff to myself.

With my plan in motion, I write a note for Runa, letting her know that I'm getting ready to leave and will be back later. I haven't seen her this morning since the debacle with the twins last night. I don't know what Eris' problem is, but I hope he figures it out. For all of our sakes.

Surprisingly, Fran is dressed in more normal clothing today, forgoing her usual all-black tactical vibes. She even made herself comfortable on the bench outside Cool Beans after watching me enter, without a short lecture about why she should be within arm's reach of me or something.

When the door closes behind me and takes the cool air with it, I consider that I might have overdressed for the chill as I quickly start warming up. I'm wearing a fuzzy baby-powder-pink sweater with slits up the sides, light gray fleece-lined leggings, and my black combat boots. My hair is tied up in a slick back ponytail with a puffy white scary wrapped around my neck.

Fate pulling me to Roman has to be why I decided to go to college in freaking Ohio. I hate the cold. Always have. My parents luckily didn't have many cold-weather assignments throughout my life. I remember becoming immensely thankful for that when we took the trip to Finland. They were asked to photograph one of those new destination resorts with the glass igloos and northern lights. Was it one of the single most beautiful things I’d ever seen in my entire life? Abso-fucking-lutely. Is it one of my favorite pictures of us as a family that's now resting on my bedside table at home? Yup. But it was so cold I felt like my bones were frozen and my brain couldn't even work. I'm just not hardwired that way, apparently.

Now that I think about it, I wonder if it was because of my wolf being suppressed because, I just realized, I wasn't cold at the full moon thingy at the pack lands recently when I would have normally been freezing. I've always been easily chilled.

I tuck that thought away for later when Willa rises from a table near the window— Fran will love this— to hug me.

“Leera! It's so good to see you again. How is everything? Oh, here, I took the opportunity to grab us both some coffee. I assumed you liked yours sweet, but let me know if I'm wrong, and I'll grab you something else.” She radiates warmth and happiness, and I couldn't contain the smile on my face if I wanted to.

I hug her fiercely. “You didn't have to do that, but thank you! I do love my coffee very sweet,” I beam at her as we settle into our seats, and I continue, “Mostly really great, but the bad is still braided in there, unfortunately.”

She's sipping her coffee when I say that, and her brows scrunch together as she sets her deep green Cool Beans mug down on the table. “How much more bad? How bad?”

Allowing myself a nice long sip of my coffee, I gather myself and tell her absolutely everything that's happened since I last saw her. I had intended to not be quite so blunt about everything, but she's the only person that I feel I can really talk to and completely be myself with. Runa doesn't want to hear about the mushy stuff with Roman and me. Zoey can't know anything about the rest of my world. So, I let it all out. Every hairy detail. Though a sentence or two into my word-vomit, Willa did hold up a hand for me to pause while she mumbled a little to herself. Then she explained that she had placed a sound barrier around us so that our conversation would be completely private.

By the time I was finished, she just stared at me for a moment, obviously still processing everything, so I went ahead and threw in, “Soooo, that's the reason I wanted to meet up. I needed to get all that off my chest, but I—er, we—were hoping you knew something about how we could find out what that prophecy was.”

She nods, more to herself, and finishes off her coffee, then carefully sets it down with both hands, watching it all the way, before slowly bringing her eyes back up to mine. “Before we go any further, are you okay?”

An unexpected laugh escapes me. “I mean, yeah, I think so. I kind of have to be.” I keep on laughing nervously. She leans across the table, taking my small pale, hand in her warm, motherly, dark one, and softly rubs her thumb against my skin. “No, you don't, Leera. It's okay to not be okay. You know that, don't you?”

I intend to nod, but, instead, my head takes on a mind of its own and just kind of bobs around. “I mean, I obviously know it's okay, but I don't want to be. You know? Like…if I let myself not be okay, then it’ll pull me down and the weight of everything that just keeps coming will crush me…As long as I force myself into my positive bubble and handle things step-by-step, I feel like I have some kind of control over the situation.” I release a big breath that I’d been holding in while trying to get that all out at once.

She's just nodding again; her gaze feels like she can see everything. “That makes perfect sense. Just promise me, if you need to take the time to not be okay, you'll let someone know so we can be there to help.”

“I promise,” I say with a large smile on my face, pushing the negatives back down into their hole where they belong.

“Now,” Willa begins, leaning back into her own seat. “Regarding the prophecy.”

I lean forward, hanging on her every word.

“There is a place where all prophecies are kept. We don't know why they began to gather there, but once we discovered it, we were able to keep it protected—”

“Perfect! Where is it?”

She smiles fondly at me. “That's the thing. It's not here.”

“What, like, not near campus? That's fine; I wouldn't expect it to be.”

She releases a light chuckle, shaking her head. “No, Leera, it's not in the human realm. It's in Sabbax. And the only ones with access are the royal family and the Keeper.”

“Oh, snot. Why did I think this would be simple?” I ask, locking my hands together with my elbows on the table, leaning my face against my hands. “What can I do?” I ask quietly, losing steam.

She looks over my head, almost like she's investigating the decorations or the single cobweb between the dark-green walls and the off-white ceiling. I allow her a few minutes to think before piping in, “Willa?”

She visibly shakes off the thoughts or visions she was having. “Sorry, I was looking back through my memory surrounding the rules of accessing prophecies. My last understanding was that, because they have been outlawed and should not be obtained, the person whom the prophecy belongs to cannot claim it. A meeting can be requested with the Queen, and you may explain the situation to her. She will then decide whether or not to grant you access and knowledge to the prophecy's information.” She taps her chin in thought. “I believe she has allowed it a couple of times when there was a great threat,” she finishes, her eyes coming back to now and not the memories in her mind.

I nod my head like I’m keeping up. “Okay…so…two things: One, can you send all of that to me in a text or email so I don't get anything wrong when I relay it to Roman and the guys? Two, are you telling me I would have to go to Sabbax? Am I even allowed there?”

Her warm brown features soften, and she raises her pointer finger. “One, yes, I'll just send it straight to Roman. He gave me his number after our last encounter.” She smiles and adds her middle finger, now looking like she's throwing up a peace sign. “Two, yes, you would have to go to Sabbax to obtain the prophecy as long as you get approval and are allowed to go. If you all coordinate schedules with me, especially if it's during a break, I would be honored to accompany you…should I use your royal title?”

I shake my head with a smile. “Oh, gosh, no, please…ha! I mean, no, thank you. I'm not ready for all that.” I fidget with the ends of my scarf. “The guys said we'll tackle that together when I'm ready…but…I honestly have no idea when that will be.”

She nods again. “There's nothing wrong with that; take all the time you need.” She reaches across the table, patting my fidgeting hands with hers, and her watch flashes awake at the movement. “Oh, I didn't realize the time; I still have another appointment today. Sorry to run! Text me,” she finishes as she scrambles to throw her coat on and bolts out of the coffee shop.

I let myself settle into my seat, and Fran takes the opportunity to make her way in and sit across from me. Not saying anything, of course. Just waiting. And watching. I wrap my arms around my middle, processing everything she's just told me. While processing, I jolt with the realization that at some point in the very near future, I will be journeying to the realm of the witches.