Page 41 of Witch's Fate

He began to fuck his fist, clenching it as tightly as he thought her pussy would, imagining that he was thrusting into her. Making her writhe on his cock and soak him with her juices.

Malcolm roared against her pussy as the orgasm slammed into him. It tore through his entire body, pleasure so intense he felt like he might explode. He shuddered and shook as his cock jerked in his hand, pumping seed onto the floor.

Her muscles still clenched his fingers as his orgasm faded. When her cries and the movement of her hips stopped, he gently pulled his fingers free and gave her pussy one last lick, savoring her taste.

His breath heaved in and out of his lungs as he watched her back rise and fall with her heaving breaths. Her pussy gleamed pink and tender. Gods, he hoped he hadn’t been too rough.

He’d die before he hurt her that way. He’d die before he let anything bad happen to her. But it wouldn’t. He’d see to it. He’d protect her.

His spend gleamed white on the floor. A possessive part of him wished that it coated her slick flesh, a brand of possession that marked her as his.

His chest tightened.

Shit. This was dangerous. He could actually feel the soft thoughts forming. He’d loved her once.

He couldn’t let that happen again. Love was a vow, even if unspoken.

A warlock couldn’t afford vows.

Fate would always break them.

He stumbled to his knees, yanking his trousers up. He waved his hand at the floor and a bit of magic removed his spend.

Sofia lay on the desk, her muscles lax as she caught her breath. So beautiful it made him clench his fists.

Fuck, if this wasn’t going to be harder than he thought. With a last glance at her, he left the room.

9

The door slammed, startling Sofia out of her daze. She glanced up.

Malcolm was gone.

Quivery pleasure that had weakened her muscles turned to rage. He’dlefther? She scrambled up and tugged on her clothes, fumbling with her shirt and trousers.

He’d just…walked out.

Tears pricked her eyes. She blinked them away, trying to focus on the anger. This was the second time she’d ended up on his desk, coming to her senses and realizing that he didn’t give a shit about her. He might spend his time making her come, but then he discarded her.

How dare he?

Rage seethed in her chest, a black tar that threatened to boil over and choke her. She stormed out of the room and down the hall, then took the stairs two at a time. At the top, she glanced left and then right, toward the doors at the end. Because fates knew, he’d be at the end of the freaking hall.

The door at the end of the left hall was cracked slightly, so she went that way. When she reached it, she shoved the heavy wood open so hard it slammed against the wall.

Malcolm spun away from the window to face her. He stood in the middle of a richly appointed round room. Another tower, like his library. All dark, gleaming wood and elegant furnishings.

“What are you—”

She drew her wand and threw a blast of lightning at him. He threw up a hand and blocked it.

“You bastard!” she screamed, then threw another bolt. This one made him stumble back. “You treat me like a fucking sex toy and then toss me away and I’m sick of it!”

Surprise flashed in his golden gaze. “What? I don’t—”

“Yes. You. Do. Twice now! And four hundred years ago I was obviously nothing to you. Just like I’m nothing now. Just a thing for you to play with. You risked my life and everything that I hold dear just so you can play with me!” Hot tears burned her eyes and she hated it. She threw a blast of frozen air at him, hoping it would freeze his heart like he’d frozen hers. The tears tumbled free.

Something like pain flashed in his eyes and he was in front of her a second later. He grabbed her arms and pulled her toward him.

---