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“I told you, this isn’t my home. It’s just the place where I sleep so I leave the tavern once in a while and don’t go insane.” His beard tickles the sensitive places on my neck as he trails soft kisses from behind my ear all the way down to my shoulder. Between his mouth and the way his hand is possessively stroking up and down my spine, groping at the flesh of my ass, pulling me to him, my brain has turned to goop. The heavy anxiety in my body is replaced entirely with the consuming, languid weight of wanting.
With a groan, Roan’s mouth finds mine, his lips claiming my mouth. I open to him, lust firing all the circuits in my brain when his tongue touches mine, the kiss fire and heat. Helpless against the tide of need, our bodies grind together, seeking the reassurance of our touch, our connection with one another.
Breathing seems like such a petty thing, an unnecessary inconvenience when I have Roan’s mouth on me. I would happily drown in his kiss, but my lungs have other ideas, and we part only long enough for a quick panting breath before we are on each other again. Roan falls back, dragging me with him,pulling at me, manhandling me until I’m straddling his waist, writhing and glorying in the friction of my cock trapped between our stomachs.
Our rhythm syncs, our hips moving in a perfect dance, and as I grind down, his hips thrust up, and his cockhead teases my hole. Shudders wrack my spine, only Roan’s fingers biting into my flanks keeping me from slamming myself back on to him. Unprepped as I am, that is probably a terrible idea, but in my lust-addled insanity the fantasy of the stretch and the burn makes my already straining cock leak.
The buzz of my orgasm collects at the base of my spine, the tingling flush overwhelming my skin. I look down at Roan, the outrageous strength of him, veins rippling along his skin as he fights to maintain the last vestiges of his control. His eyes are screwed shut, the tendons on his neck tight as he tilts his head back into the pillows beneath.
Needing something to fill my mouth, I lean forward to suck hard on the skin beneath his jaw. Mewling whimpers and grunting breaths fill the otherwise silence of the room—I am so close, devastatingly close.
“Ew!”
“For the love of the Gods”
“Guess he’s feeling better then?”
“Don’t stop on our account.”
The slamming door of the front door being thrown open heralds the ridiculously loud and wholly unnecessary interruption of the people Iusedto love and care about. As my cockrapidlydeflates, and I wave goodbye to the blissful orgasm I had been riding just on the edges of, I sob an exaggerated cry, dropping my face into the hard comfort of Roan’s chest.
“You didn’t lock the door?!” I feel him dragging the sheet over our bodies to preserve something of our modesty.
There is a snicker somewhere in the room, and whoever it is isverylucky I don’t have full control of my new gifts, or they would be roasting like a chestnut right now. Roan, the traitor, just laughs, kissing the side of my head and rolling me off him. Unlike me, he is still half hard, and he traps my thigh across him to keep from sharing too much with our intruders.
“No, no, I did not.” He rises on his elbows to level a rather unimpressed look at our friends.
“Have you lot heard of knocking?” The barrage of noises in their defence, sends me diving under the pillows.
“Can you at least give us privacy to get dressed then?” Like the mature adult he is, he attempts to reason with the posse of clowns invading his living room.
“No.” Edith sounds far too close as she declines Roan's request. The bed dips beside me and her herby smell permeates the pillow I have wrapped firmly over me. “You all good under there?” Her hand rests on my back, a subtle flow of pleasant, healing energy radiating from her palm. For all her wildness and eccentricities, Edith truly cares about us.
Well, me at least.
I pull my head out of its hiding place to look at her in her smirking face. There is a violent red blush to my cheeks, and she is enjoying it far too much.
“I would be much better if you would all clear out so we could finish up. Or at least get dressed.”
“Ugh, gross.” The disgust from my brother wafts across the room. Awesome. Tor saw me riding my boyfriend like a pony. Why couldn’t the nabras have eaten me? Edith pats my cheek, her eyes dancing with laughter.
“You haveexactlythree minutes. And then I demand a show.”
“Get out, Edith, or I’ll finally do the maths on your tab.” Roan’s threat holds very little weight. Nobody, being or otherwise, hasthe powers to calculate something of that magnitude. But it works, and she stands, sniffing.
“Fine. We’ll leave. But be quick.” With a flurry of black lace, she rounds everyone back out of the cottage.
“Don’t suppose you have any pants I could borrow?” I headbutt Roan’s chest affectionately, nuzzling in. His fingers wind their way into my tangled curls, massaging my skull for a moment.
“Yeah, they’ll be a bit big, but we can make it work.” I kiss his chest, unable to resist the open expanse of skin, before I roll off the bed.
“We always do, babe, we always do.”
***
Apparently, we were lucky, if you can call it that. From what Seff has said, we could have been woken up before dawn if my brother and Edith had their way. They were, from what everyone has said, chomping at the bit to invade Roan’s house before the sun had even cracked the horizon. Seff, Caelan, and Mauvy struggled to keep them away for as long as they had.
They couldn’t have held them off a couple more minutes, though?
