Page 16 of My Pucking Life

“Sounds like a good plan to be sure.” I pat him on his shoulder, and he winces a bit, telling me Runa was right and that he needs to allow himself to rest.

Andrei comes walking in from down the hall with a letter in his hand. “People still write letters?” I ask.

He doesn't immediately look up. “We do when we're communicating between the realms and don't want our digital information to be tracked,” he snaps back before immediately adding, “Shit, I'm sorry. I reached out to some of my contacts I trust to see if anyone had noticed strange movement with Avram or Boian…Nothing major, though. Apparently, Boian has been a little scarce lately, but nothing more. Avram has been in and out of the realm a little more than usual, but he keeps losing his tails.”

Not what we wanted to hear, but it's something. I nod to Andrei, and he plops onto one of the barstools near Leera, and they start chatting as I walk over to Slate and his laptop. “I have an uncomfortable hunch. See if anyone on the Warriors team has any connections to my father, the advisor, or dark witches.”

Slate nods and begins typing, losing himself in the information on his screen. Benny's rummaging through the refrigerator when he pops his head out, mouth full, and mutters, “How wa gowwa figwa out da pwaphucy?”

Leera throws her head back and laughs, and the sound feels like magic. “What on Earth did you just say?”

I chuckle with her and roll my eyes, translating his gibberish, “He asked how we're going to figure out the prophecy. Don't worry, give it a couple hundred years, and you'll be able to understand him too.” And the rest of the room laughs along with us.

When we've all stopped laughing, Leera speaks up, “I actually had an idea that might help.”

Everyone in the room perks up to pay attention. “I'm listening,” I offer suspiciously because if she thinks she's doing anything that would even remotely put her in danger, it's not fucking happening.

She hops off the counter and takes the few steps it takes to reach me, wrapping her arms around me, tilting her head back to look me in the eyes with her sweet smile on her face. “Calm down, Big Guy, I was just going to suggest seeing if Prof—Willa wants to meet for coffee or something, and we could talk to her and see if she knows how we can learn about the prophecy.”

“That's…that's actually a great idea.”

“Wow, Roman.” She jabs me in my chest. “Don't sound so surprised that I could have a good idea.” She pouts, crossing her arms.

I cough out a small laugh. “That's most definitely not how I meant that. I only meant that I should have thought of it.”

She gives me the side-eye. “Nice cover.”

I scoop her into my arms and toss her gently over my shoulder. “That's enough business for the day. Goodnight, everyone! Say goodnight, darling.”

“Roman! Put! Me! Down!” she squeals while playfully beating her tiny fists on my back before giving up in a heap of defeat and huffing, “Goodnight, guys.”

13

While 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?”

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