wanted to do. Ever. Settling softly against his mouth, hushing her breath against his, breathing in his careful sigh. Legs coiled up to her chest beneath the blanket, she leaned against his chest and spread her fingers over his jaw.
His utter sadness at having hurt her and pushed her around wavered out from him in tangible vibrations. He regretted deeply. She kissed away the regret, hoping to polish his confidence. Quietly, she told him the trust between them had been tried, and it had survived, albeit tattered.
“My sister Eternitie believes nothing is coincidence,” she said. “That the people who pass in and out of our lives, no matter how fleeting, do so for a reason. So maybe you’re here to mess up my life.”
“It needed mussing. But not like this, Vika.” He touched her shoulder, and she winced. “It’s bruised here. Hell, I’m so sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” She kissed him and held there, unwilling to break the contact, the blissful connection of their lives breathing in and out from one another.
Outside, a streak of lightning flashed, but no thunder followed. The storm had retreated. As had the chaos occupying this dark witch’s soul.
Vika let the blanket fall off one shoulder, and she nuzzled her body as close as she could against his, her breasts cushioning against his hard chest.
“I saw the demon in your eyes,” she whispered. “Do you think I could capture it with a soul gaze?”
When two witches held each other’s stare, it was called a soul gaze. They could read the other’s soul, all the goodness and evil painted across it.
“You don’t want to look into anything I’ve residing within my soul, Vika. Great Hecate, haven’t you seen enough?”
Closing her eyes, she nodded and whispered against his mouth, “Touch me.” She clasped her hand within his and pressed his knuckles against her breast. “Make me yours.”
“I... Vika?”
“It’s just us now. And a gazillion chandeliers. Take me beneath the glamorous light that keeps us safe. I want to feel you inside me, CJ. Chase away the dark and fill me with the light I know you possess.”
His fingers curled over her breast, sliding down the blanket, and he gave her one last questioning look—which she answered with a nod—and then bent to kiss the swell beneath his hand. She tilted back a shoulder, lifting her breast, and stretched a leg out across his lap. With a shift of her hip, she slid onto his lap.
Drawing a finger down his chest, she traced the triple scythes curved under his right nipple. They formed a sort of tribal claw mark. “Isn’t this a werewolf symbol?”
“It is, but it’s inked with silver.”
“You don’t like werewolves? I find them quite gentle.” She kissed the silvery scythe below his chest and then brushed her lips over the tiny nipple.
CJ inhaled and spread his hands over her breasts, his fingers playing softly over her hard nipples. Compelled toward him, she arched her back, giving him all of her to hold.
“And this one?” She glided her fingertips down his rigid abs to the three parallel lines slashed through with shorter horizontal lines.
“A grounding spell. My skin is marred with ink while yours is unstained. Pure.” He leaned forward and claimed her nipple between his lips, softly, then dashed his tongue around it.
Vika tilted back her head, her wet hair a thick mass down her spine. Reaching down, she stroked the hardness straining against his jeans. He hadn’t buttoned but had zipped, and with a finger she teased the tuft of hair exposed in the V-shaped opening.
CJ’s forehead nudged her at the base of her neck and he hissed. “Grandmother is watching.”
“Should I take it off?”
“No, never. It’s a part of you. I’ll be careful.”
“Your wards against other magics are off?”
“Took care of that when I tossed your clothes in the dryer. I am ever open to you, Vika. Oh, yeah, right there.”
Massaging his erection through the fabric, she wanted to get to it, to release him so she could feel him inside her. But she took her time, enjoying every lick, every kiss to her breast, every squeeze of his hands, and the subtle glisten of magic humming between the two of them.
It was the dark hand covered in tattoos that scattered a shimmer over her skin as it glided her flesh. She wondered if he was aware of it, and then figured he must be. On the other hand, if he’d been more focused on magic than women...