Page 27

B y 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.

His eyes finally rise to meet mine. “You said you never knew how to make yourself feel good. While I will be mostly taking over those duties, I still believe you should be more in tune with yourself.” His eyes are burning with the same hunger for me that I feel for him.

“Oh…O-okay,” I concede, closing my eyes and resting my head back against the door. I follow the same path Roman's hands made from my nipples to kneading my breast, trailing further south, my breaths coming out in pants and moans. I hesitate when my fingers nearly reach where I wish Roman was touching me. Instead, he's still watching my every move with a burning intensity.

“Be a good girl for me, Princess, and I'll give you my cock, just like you want.”

My jaw drops open on a gasp of arousal, and my heart kicks around in my chest, trying to figure out how to beat appropriately again. I nod, biting my lip, and trail my fingers even further. When I reach my clit, I tentatively rub my middle finger around it in circles, my hips wiggling against Roman's hardened length below me.

“Mmm, like this?” I breathe.

He leans forward, nipping along the column of my neck, on the opposite side of my mark, sending tingles of pleasure straight to my core.

“Fucking perfect,” he growls into my skin before pulling back to watch me work myself. “Don't stop. If you stop, I stop.”

“Stop. What?” I ask between pants, the heat rising in my body. I definitely never knew what I was trying to do before because it didn't feel like this. “Oh, God!” I cry out when he plants himself inside me in a single, unexpected thrust. My finger stops, relishing in the fullness, stretching around him, being completely connected to him. I try to move against him, but he tsks me.

“You stopped,” he says as his fingers begin plucking at my nipples, heightening my need for him to move.

It feels like it takes my brain days to sort through the burning lust to figure out what the fuck he's talking about. When my finger returns to rub circles around my clit, Roman's hands return to my ass, slowly bringing me up and down his length.

“Oh…shit…more, Roman!” I beg.

“I'm matching your movements. How fast you play with yourself determines how fast I fuck you.” He may sound calm, but his last few words were pushed through gritted teeth, meaning I'm not the only one affected.

Nevertheless, I'll play. I begin rubbing my finger around my swollen bundle of nerves a little faster, relishing in the increased rhythm of his hips. “Yes. Yes. Yes!” I chant. I'm so lost in the pleasure rising within me, my body tingling, now using two fingers to circle my clit at what I've found is a pretty perfect rhythm, but I still need more. “Oh, God…Roman, harder!” And like an answered prayer, he holds onto me tighter and begins to plow into me.

We're a panting, moaning, growling mess, rattling the door to his—our—bedroom, chasing that high that comes from our bodies being locked together. Every nerve ending is firing with the electric energy of our bond. My body begins to wind tighter, and, fuck, I will never get used to being able to feel Roman's arousal rise along mine in steady consistency through our bond.

Just as I scream his name, my body detonating, he slams into me once more, shoving his knot into my contracting channel, and I scream a hoarse curse as a second orgasm rips through my body, shredding any piece of sanity I might have had left in that moment. He comes with me, but the pressure continues to grow as his knot expands, and I swear to God this orgasm is never going to end. My vision flickers with black spots and bright white stars, and I think I might have forgotten how to breathe as I slump against his chest.

We stay there for a few labored breaths, leaning against the door with my legs still covered in clothing while we are otherwise completely bare and kind of sweaty before Roman gingerly wraps his arms around my body and walks us over to the bed. With our bodies still locked together, he sits on the bed, jostling his still swollen knot further inside of me, making me moan and dig my claws into him.

Fuck! You can NOT be serious right now, I intend to think to myself, but he must have heard me because I hear him chuckle through our bond as my body begins to climb that mountain again, the friction of our bodies still creating an obnoxiously delicious burning sensation in my spine.

“One more, my little miracle,” he says in that voice that could make me wet all on its own.

“Shit, okay. Yes. Please.” Why does sex take away my ability to string together a coherent thought or sentence?

He carefully rolls us over to the center of the bed where he hovers over me, granting me not only more friction, but his amazing cock is hitting an entirely new piece of me. He's not able to pull out, but he is able to push further in, rocking himself into me while he nips at my nipples. My hands are a frenzied mess of desire, holding him, scratching him, pulling him into me. I was going for a kiss, but he bypassed my lips completely, grunting against my neck before biting and locking himself onto my mate mark.

I don't scream this time, I roar. My body arching so hard off the bed, I worry my bones will break. My wolf is howling as my soul leaves my body. Fuck, he's still going. “I can't. I can't.” I thrash as I cry. My body is completely wrecked, and I know he must be close to coming again because his hips become erratic.

He pulls himself from my mark, peppering my face with loving kisses as he pants, “Fuck. Fucking perfect. Perfect pussy. Perfect mate. Perfect soul.”

“Oh…fuck! Oh, God…Roman…I can’t—”

“Yes. You. Can,” he grunts between powerful thrusts, and fuck, I might die from orgasms.

I'm sobbing as my body reaches a precipice of pleasure that borders on painful. Pulling him to me by his hair, I copy his movements from before, also biting into his new mark. We again roar together as his entire body locks up and stills against me, his cock twitching inside of me.

All I can manage before I pass out from orgasm-induced-exhaustion is a breathy, “I love you.”