CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
Iwake to warm kisses trailing across my breasts, renewed pleasure striking through me.
I run my hands through Roman’s hair as he bends his head to my chest, every swirl of his tongue making me sigh with increasing need.
“It’s dawn,” he says, his voice vibrating against my skin. “We slept all through the afternoon and the night.”
I stretch against him, testing the sensations running through my limbs. Relaxed. Energized. Contradictions.
He gives a reluctant groan, one hand gripping my hip. “We should get up.”
I’m not sure I want to, but I remind myself of my responsibility for my wolves, my pack…
On impulse, I capture Roman’s hand, tracing the creases across his palm up to the muscles on his forearm and then back to his wrist—where he strikes his runes.
I meet his suddenly darkening eyes, the stormy green swirling to black. I didn’t imagine the moment last night when he spoke the demon word for bonding to me. Or when I spoke it back. Even if I’m not sure he heard me.
He’s part of my pack now. OrI’mpart ofhis. Since my demon wolves were originally meant to be under his care, I don’t fight the synergy and peace that comes with the acknowledgement that, in some ways, we’ve all come home.
Except for my sisters. My brave sisters.
“I need to train hard today. I need to be stronger,” I say. My voice is strained as I continue. “I can’t stay here much longer.”
He runs his hand into my hair, cradling the side of my face. “You’re already stronger, Nova. You couldn’t have survived a night with me if you weren’t.”
My breath catches, but it’s difficult to exhale while he’s stroking my hip, his thumb swirling low across my stomach.
I make myself move, fighting every wish to stay in this bed with him for another day. More. A month maybe. Even a year—
I stop before I truly start to imagine the impossible likelihood that Roman and I can be together in a world that isn’t at war with everything I believe in.
When I slip from the bed, pondering where on Earth the bathroom might be since there aren’t any doors out of this room, he pulls himself up to lean back against the pillows. He’s relaxed as he watches me prowl around his room. “Let me rune you some clothing,” he says.
“Sure.” My reply is met with a tingle across my skin as a transparent, and very lacy, matching set of bra and underpants appear, wrapping around my breasts and pelvis. Concealing nothing. I wait another beat, but further clothing doesn’t appear. I could use my clothing rune to return my T-shirt and jeans, but I want to see what he’ll do next.
“I’ll need a little more than this,” I say with a grin, taking in his perfectly sculptured muscles, quietly wondering how quickly I can remove this underwear after all.
“That’s a shame,” he rumbles, leveraging himself off the bed and striding toward the side of the room, where a door suddenly materializes at his approach.
He flicks a rune across his wrist and the sudden sound of running water draws me after him as he disappears into the next room.
The steam-filled bathroom has glossy, black walls with gleaming silver taps and a massive open shower. Roman’s silhouette is shrouded in steam, his huge body looming over me when I step inside.
I reach for him, filling my chest with steam and the suddenly heady scent of his skin.
“Rune.” I whisper his name, reaching up to run my hands across his slick chest, my palms chasing the water droplets down to his hips.
His arms rise around me, scooping me up against him, a smooth movement. He fits my legs around his hips, supporting my back while he carries me into the shower, soaking us both.
Washing us doesn’t seem to be his intention.
I moan as he braces me against the wall, his mouth crashing against mine, his hands teasing my nipples through the lace, driving my senses into a frenzy. Water drips between us, every trickle seeming to follow his hands and mouth.
When my underpants disappear with the flash of another rune, I’m more than ready, but holy fuck, I’m not sure how my body accommodates his hard length.
I relinquish my control, giving in to every thrust, my palms flexing against his back until my world breaks again, each ripple of orgasm tipping me farther over the edge. He follows soon after, his voice rumbling against my throat, but it’s not my name he speaks this time. It’s a word I don’t recognize, humming with ancient demon power. “Dosdana.”
I roll the sounds around in my mouth as he presses up against me, his chest heaving.
