all night if she’d let him. “Your magic is just a little quirky. That’s all. And if Deirdre can help you iron out the wrinkles, that’s damn impressive. You’re the most impressive witch I know.”
“You only know two,” she said, still laughing.
He grinned, drawing back so he could see her expression. He wanted to see her laugh, wanted to memorize what her face looked like. “Still, top out of two isn’t bad.”
She still smiled, shaking her head at him, and something shifted in the air. Henry’s attention landed on her mouth, her delightfully kissable mouth, and suddenly he couldn’t think of anything else. Ophelia took a soft breath, her lips parted, and he squeezed her side in anticipation. He moved slow, gave her plenty of time to draw away or hex him, and brushed his mouth against hers in a gentle, glancing touch.
She didn’t tense but stayed soft and relaxed in his arms. He swallowed a groan of pure need and kissed the corner of her mouth, took her lower lip in his and sucked gently until she swayed toward him. Henry reined in the beast that wanted to immediately tear off her clothes and his and roll into the sheets like wild animals. He didn’t want to frighten her, didn’t dare move too fast. Just because she wanted to kiss him didn’t mean she was up for anything else.
Of course, he tried to convince his body of that and failed miserably. And pressed against her, with her practically in his lap, she wouldn’t fail to notice where his thoughts went.
But that could wait. Ophelia murmured against his mouth and parted her lips, giving him a chance to taste her. He drank her in and nearly howled in victory when she tentatively touched her tongue against his. Henry retreated, trying to draw her out, until Ophelia boldly claimed his mouth in return. He grumbled and held her closer, adjusting how they sat so he didn’t end up with a charley horse, and immediately hopped up with a curse.
Ophelia stared at him in alarm as Henry swore and rubbed his ass, scowling at the bed. “What’s the matter?”
“Something poked me,” he muttered, flipping back the covers to search for the culprit. He wouldn’t have put it past Cricket to leave a bird carcass in his bed, since the damn cat had done it before.
He found her knitting needles instead. He held up the offending items and Ophelia giggled, covering her mouth, and barely managed to squeak out, “I’m so sorry.”
“Uh-huh.” He set them aside carefully, even though he wanted to drop-kick the damn things out the window, and knelt on the side of the bed once more. “How are you going to make it up to me?”
It sounded far more seductive than he intended, but before he could take it back and soften it with an explanation, Ophelia’s eyebrow rose. Her eyes darkened and she barely moved her hands away from her mouth as she whispered, “I could kiss it better for you.”
He barked a laugh and fell out on the bed, fell length with his head next to her knees, and buried his face in the covers so she wouldn’t see the wolf as the beast struggled to take her up on the offer. “You don’t know what you do to me, Ophelia.”
The glancing drift of her fingers over his shoulder nearly sent him over the edge; the tentative, gentle exploration strained his control more than any seductive technique or dirty talk. When he moved closer so she could stroke the back of his neck, she grew bolder and played with his hair. “Oh? What do I do to you?”
He groaned, draping his arm over her thighs so it could curl around her hip and ass, holding her close. “You drive me wild. You make me want to be better.”
“Better at what?” she asked, slow and soft.
“Everything,” he said, and looked up at her, desperate to know what she was thinking.
Her fingers trailed across his shoulder, along the tough muscle and scars still hidden by his T-shirt, and he shivered in anticipation. Ophelia bit her lower lip as her hand drifted lower, almost to the spot on his hip that had been gouged by the knitting needle. “Well, if I can’t kiss it better, maybe I could... massage you?”
The hesitation had Henry biting the inside of his cheek until it bled with the effort of not immediately grabbing her. She was too sweet, too shy. He almost couldn’t take it.