He was mine.
I was his.
We were viramores.
Holy crap on a cracker.
My viramore.
Mine.
My eyes widened, and I forced Roman to release my hands. He pulled his mouth away, clearly misinterpreting my movements. Before he could get too far or become too worried, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer, recapturing his lips and humming against them.
I murmured, “Mine,” against his lips, and he moaned in response.
His tongue swiped along my lips, and I opened and sucked it into my mouth, letting out my own moan of pleasure.
He tasted so damn good. Felt so fucking good in my arms.
But I wasn’t close enough.
So I scooted onto my knees without releasing his mouth, grabbed onto his shoulders, and threw one leg over his thighs. He didn’t hesitate to pull me closer so my chest was flat against his. It made me moan again, and I couldn’t help but grind against him.
He let out a low, growling groan that made my cock jump, and my own dragon responded to hearing his. A possessive growl came out of my throat, startling us both into breaking the kiss. We laughed, and I kissed him lightly, quickly, happiness making me feel like I was floating.
We both panted as we stared into each other’s eyes, and even though my body was on board with continuing this, I wasn’t so sure my head was. I wanted him, that much was clear, but…
I’d only found out, or rather, realized that Rome was my viramore less than five minutes ago. I needed time to let this settle in my head… and in my heart before we did anything more than this.
I… I wasn’t used to… jumping into bed with people, despite what everyone thought since I loved going out and everything. But I was always one who wanted to get to know their lover before we moved forward.
And sure, I obviously knew Rome, better than anyone, but this was a hell of a lot more than just taking someone to bed.
A fuck-ton more than that.
So I sucked in a deep breath and leaned forward to rest my forehead against his, closing my eyes and inhaling the scent of him, of his arousal, of our mixed scents, letting them settle me.
“You okay?” he asked in a whisper.
I opened my eyes, meeting his gaze, and offered a smile. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m really good.”
He smiled that gentle, sweet smile reserved only for me. “Me too, sweetheart.”
I couldn’t help but give him a peck, then I sat up, still on his lap with my arms around his neck, and said, “Don’t think you’re getting away with telling my dad before me, by the way. The only reason I’m not yelling at you is because I feel sorry for you getting thrown in a dungeon right now.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He leaned in and captured my lips again, and my heart flipped in my chest.
This time the kiss was sweeter, gentler, more tender, and it made my entire body—no, my entire being; my body, my heart, my soul—melt into a pile of goo right there on his lap.
When he broke the kiss this time, I felt almost boneless, so I leaned in, moved my arms so they were around his waist, and rested my head on his shoulder, tucking my face into the crook of his neck as I hugged him tight.
He didn’t hesitate to hold me, wrapping his arms around me, rubbing my back, and rocking us a little.
After a long time of sitting there in companionable silence, holding one another, I whispered, “We should probably get out of here before my dad comes down and finds us all cuddled up.”
Roman snorted. “Yeah, that would be bad.”
