“Like our covens,” I said as I noticed we both wore the colours that matched our covens.
She smiled warmly.
“Yes, I suppose we are wearing the colours of our covens,” she agreed. “Why do you not want to tell me about who you spent time with?” she asked bringing us back on topic.
“I don’t know that it really matters. I was upset at the time, but now…” I trailed off. I was still upset. I couldn’t hide it.
“Why were you upset?” she asked softly as she approached me and lifted the thick blankets of the bed for me to get in. She flicked the light switch off as I got into bed, leaving the room in the warm orange glow and crackle of the fire, before she returned to join me. She opened her arms for me and I couldn’t refuse the invitation, crawling between her legs to lie my head against her chest.
“Why were you upset?” she repeated after I settled and she had begun to run her hands soothingly through my hair.
“She made me question stuff,” I told her. She made an encouraging sound for me to continue and I sighed, allowing myself to fully lean into her. “Stuff like our relationship, stuff like who I am or who I was. It hurt my head.”
She laughed lightly above me. “That explains my headache then,” she said.
“From the bond?” I questioned, and I was irrationally annoyed as I remembered that she was blocking out connection.
“I believe so,” she replied. She must have felt my frustration because she asked, “did she make you question our bond?”
“Yeah,” I replied truthfully.
“In what way?”
“I thought our bond would be different. I mean, I thought after you accepted the soul match, we would be bonded. And yeah, I didn’t know all that that entailed… but it feels wrong. It feels like you’re rejecting me, again, by not letting the bond form the way its meant to,” I explained. And I realised then, that that was the cause of my upset. I felt rejected. I felt unwanted. Like maybe she didn’t really want to be my soul match, or she rejected accepting the bond.
“I will not ever reject you again,” she told me seriously. “I have chosen you, now and for always.” I felt the press of her lips against the top of my head. “But I do not wish for you to share all that I experience. The bond feels wrong to me,” she told me. And that felt like a blow to my chest, my breath caught between my throat and lungs.
How could the bond feel wrong?
“It feels wrong to me that you should be forced to endure all my emotions, and my pains. It is a punishment that you should not endure, my pet.”
“A punishment?” I asked, after forcing myself to breathe.
“My mind is not always a nice place to be. My emotions can be chaotic. It would be unkind to subject you to them, and an invasion of my privacy. Do you really wish for me to endureevery ache or ailment you receive, every low as well as the highs?” she asked.
I thought about it briefly and snorted in amusement. “You already know everything. Everything I feel you smell out, everything I do you spy on,” I told her, and my amusement turned to upset and anger. “You know everything about me. It would be nice to know something of you too,” I told her.
“I do not know everything. I can deduce the basics—if you are aroused, I can smell your wet pussy,” she said, and her leg pushed between mine, her thigh pressing against the apex of my thighs as she spoke in a low timbre. I did my best not to react to the pressure, not to become distracted.
“The change in your hormones, the spice that the excitement adds to your scent. I have never been so aware of another’s physical reactions to me,” she told me and increased the pressure between my legs. I ground my hips against her lightly, almost subconsciously and sighed. It wasn’t enough to provide real pleasure—more like the ghost of potential pleasure—but the action soothed me.
“Similarly, when you are experiencing a negative emotion I can smell the change. Fear is the easiest to distinguish, but otherwise I am guessing about how you feel. You know I have those loyal to me keep an eye on you. But they are instructed only to report on that which may give cause for concern. You still have a private internal world,” she promised, as I ground against her leg with small thrusts of my hips.
“You can’t help yourself, can you darling?” she laughed. “So easily distracted,” she mocked.
“Don’t,” I said in protest, pressing my face further against her chest in embarrassment.
“Would you like me to stop?” she asked, and the pressure she applied decreased.
“No.” I moaned. “Don’t you dare,” I warned as I pressed harder against her, trying to increase the pressure between my legs to what it was.
She laughed below me, her hand reaching down and spanking me playfully. I groaned in pleasure, the sting of the slap sending a zap directly to my clit.
I brought my hand up to her chest and groped her full breast through the fabric of her shirt. They were round and perfect; I felt her nipple harden under my touch and I flicked my thumb over the hard tip. I was overcome with a desire to suck and bite.
I lifted my head, and saw hers thrown back against the pillow, her mouth open in pleasure. With more dexterity than I usually had, I undid a few buttons of the shirt to give me access to her flesh and immediately found her hard nipple between my teeth, biting gently.
Selene moaned loudly, her hand moving from my hip to the back of my head. The sound of her pleasure created a new gush of wetness in my panties and I ground myself harder against her.
