Page 64 of Snag
Both of us shout again, loudly. Though we’ve been trying to keep quiet out of deference to the sharp-eared shifters in the house.
Then Zaya collapses over me, limp and humming against my neck, completely content to just sprawl across me and breathe.
My heart is fucking beating its way out of my chest. I smooth my hand down her spine, opening my eyes to check on her.
Rath is hovering halfway into the family room.
His hair and skin are damp, as if he’s come in from outside, maybe from patrolling grounds that don’t need to be physically patrolled. His gaze is riveted to Zaya in my arms. His expression verges on desperate.
Zaya opens her eyes, tipping her head just enough to settle those purple orbs of blazing power on her untethered soul-bound mate.
I can actually see her power reflecting against the nearby windows.
As if the universe, peering through the Conduit, is interested in this moment.
In how Rath and the celestial dragon are going to react.
I run my hand down Zaya’s spine again.
Rath’s shoulders and his expression relax. He meets my gaze. Relieved. Then he steps back the way he must have entered, through the back patio doors. Presumably he was drawn to the house by all the energy, the press of essence that felt as if it bound Zaya and me together.
Perhaps even reforged our bond?
Zaya tips her head up, nose ghosting over my jaw as she easily dismisses Rath to whisper in my ear, “Again?”
I lift her off the couch, making sure my jeans are buttoned enough to not fall down while I carry her up the stairs and into her bed. With the door firmly closed and locked behind us.
The noise-canceling wards etched around Zaya’s walls flare the moment after I throw my mate on the bed, yank off her skirt, and bury my face inher pussy. Gobbling up her gasps and moans, I lick up every drop of her sweet minty tang, all for myself.
EIGHT
ZAYA
The first hintsof sunrise have lightened the gaps between the heavy drapes as I slowly surface from a deep, dreamless slumber. On my bed. In my bedroom. The estate is still and quiet around me. Even the simmer of the intersection point feels settled, content. I’m curled up on my side, facing the windows and tucked next to a warm, welcoming body.
Rought.
Our evening activities come back to me in a heady rush. My climbing into his lap. My pushing us past the kisses. The desperate need to connect to him after his confession that he had tried to kill himself, thinking I was waiting for him just beyond the veil.
But instead of being embarrassed or feeling hollow as I often do after a sexual encounter, I feel … calm. Even … happy? And maybe a little intoxicated.
I carefully roll over, blinking through the early-morningdark that still shadows the bedroom to take in my lover’s face. My soul-bound mate. Rought’s expression is utterly relaxed, his breathing measured in sleep. He looks younger than thirty. The dark-blond hair long enough to curl at the ends falls wildly over his brow. He’s mostly sprawled on his back, but curved slightly toward me. The arm nearest me is flung up over his head, resting along the headboard. One leg is splayed, foot hanging off the far side of the bed. His other knee is bent toward me as if he’s just rolled away from holding me.
While I’m tangled in layered blankets, Rought is gloriously naked. Miles of naturally tan skin stretches over taut muscle, tattoos feathered — some of them literally — up his arms, his shoulders, kissing his neck.
I quash the urge to turn on the lights so I can take him all in, every minute detail.
The dense patch of curls around his softened cock is darker than his hair, and I suppress a quiet curl of desire and another sudden urge, this time to take him in my mouth and gently suck him to hardness.
I don’t like giving blow jobs. That’s really fucking intimate.
But … how close could I get him to orgasm before he woke?
Okay. Being dick drunk is most definitely a thing.
Plus there’s the matter of consent. Would I want to wake up on the verge of orgasm with Rought’s tongue between my legs, lapping at my clit?
Desire pools between my legs, my nipples tighten, and I swear my aforementioned clit fucking twitches.
