glided down her mons and teased at her folds. “Any of those tattoos designed for the sensual arts?”
“Ah?” He tapped her thigh with his fingers, which electrified the intensity of his touch. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Seriously? CJ, when our skin touches it hums with our combined magic. But this hand covered in spellwork? It’s the same touch, but quadrupled in intensity.”
“I had no idea. How about this?”
He glided between her legs and inside her, and it was as if an instrument heated and hardened and designed to get her off. Two fingers, not a sex toy. Vika worked her hips and glided up and down upon him, wanting to own every sensation, to steal his magic for her own pleasure. “Oh, yes, touch me like that.”
“You’re so hot,” he murmured against her breast, his tongue slipping across her nipple. “I can feel our combined magic, too. Makes every part of me burn. Show me how you like it, Vika.”
“I’d like it with your pants off and you inside me. Quickly, I want to come with you deep inside me.”
He shuffled out of his pants and Vika straddled him. His face was a riot of color from the overhead crystals, his eyes closed as he glided inside her, his hands gripping her hips firmly. Seared by his heat, Vika slapped her hands to the back of the couch, feeling him deep within her, so thick, filling her, radiating within as their magics joined forces and the hum of their connection reached a heady vibration.
He had but to shift his hips and thrust inside her once, twice, then the climax overwhelmed and he bucked her up and down upon his body as the dark witch swore to Hecate and then blessed her in the same breath.
“Pax, sax, sarax,” she whispered. An Elizabethan chant to prolong orgasm.
CJ thrust back his head, growling in delicious pleasure as she sensed the orgasm renewed, surrounding him in its stunning grip. She surrendered and got wrapped in the threads of giddiness. They seemed to float, wrapped together, soaring over the floor, entwined in rapture.
Skin against skin, Vika breathed in CJ’s being, his breaths, his rapid heartbeats. She felt him, knew him—and then she felt the infestation. It roiled in wicked delight, snatching at her with claws that couldn’t reach yet were so close.
Pulling away from him, she leaned over his blissful smile. Breathing heavily, she shook her head. What a way to come down. Chased by demons. He couldn’t be aware of what she had felt. She didn’t want him to know.
“Amazing,” he murmured, and blew her a kiss.
Vika nodded and had to struggle with her sudden fear to lean forward and rest her head against his shoulder. They were safe under the light. She hoped.
Chapter 11
CJ woke, not because it was morning and the light nudged him awake—his circadian rhythm had given up the ghost months earlier—but because his body generally woke after a few hours’ rest. The daylight paled in comparison with the cacophony of prismatic light, which always made him blink in disgust. He’d never get accustomed to the unnatural light.
His lifeline. Would he need it always?
They’d moved to the bed from the couch to continue their lovemaking. Turning onto his side, he looked over the sinuous, long lines of Vika’s body and marveled she could sleep under the light. Uncovered, lying on her back, from his side view her curves and lines were as if a sculpture done in porcelain. Each glide and rise of bone so subtle. At her small breasts the nipples were soft and like a tuft of crushed roses. Garnet hair spilled over the white sheets and his arm, and he stroked a few strands against his mouth, wondering if silk could ever feel so rich. The brilliant strands running over the black spellwork on his hand seemed to want to hide the darkness.
That she had forgiven his transgression against her with grace and heated desire spoke volumes for her character. She had seen beyond the demon and into him. He—Certainly Jones—was in there somewhere. He just needed to rise above, without having to build a chandelier umbrella to carry about after sunset.
It wasn’t fair to her. She shouldn’t have to endure his demons merely for a part of him. He might ever be able to give her only a part. Never the whole Certainly Jones. Not so long as Pain and War and others resided within.
Sighing, he turned to his other side, putting his back to her.