Page 66 of Witch's Fate

When her gaze caught on the new tattoo on his shoulder, a pang hit her heart. She almost growled. She had no time for soft feelings.

All she had time for was this. Fucking him.

Her hands and gaze went straight to the fly of his pants, to the cock that pressed angrily against the rough material. It was so big that it made the breath catch in her throat.

With trembling hands, she undid the button of his fly and dragged the zipper down. He groaned, low and guttural, as it parted to reveal black cotton forced upward by his cock.

She gripped it, shocked by its size, and rubbed. Dampness at the tip made her pussy clench. He wanted her. As much as she wanted him.

She glanced up to see it reflected in his gaze. He watched her avidly. His hands went to her shirt and began to pull it up. She pushed them away.

“No. I’m in charge,” she said.

“Sofia,” he growled in warning. Then her shirt disappeared. Her bra followed.

“Bastard,” she hissed.

“Bloody hell, you’re lovely,” he whispered.

She glanced at his face, seeing awe in his eyes. It only pissed her off more. If he hadn’t become a warlock, she’d be the recipient of that look every night. Instead, all she had was this. One night.

She looked back at his cock, too angry to look at him. How could this rage and desire coexist so easily within her? It couldn’t be healthy, but she didn’t care.

Her gaze was rapt as she drew the fabric down. His shaft, long and thick, emerged. It was so beautiful it made her mouth water. Veins laced the sides and the head was graceful and gleaming.

Her first thought was that he would never fit. Her second was that she was determined to try. She gripped his cock, savoring his guttural groan and the way it jerked in her hands.

So smooth. So hard. She pumped her fist, her mouth watering as she watched the dusky head disappear and reemerged from her hand.

14

Malcolm groaned as Sofia’s hand worked his cock. Gods, how he’d dreamed of this. He watched as her small, delicate hand moved up and down. A bead of fluid gleamed at the tip. With her thumb, she swiped at it, spreading it over the head of his cock.

His hips jerked, driving his shaft upwards. He wanted to bury it inside of her so badly that he shook. To feel her accept him as he plowed deep…

But bloody hell, she was so much smaller than he was. He glanced up to see her biting her lip, her gaze avid on her hand. Her pretty breasts trembled as her arm moved.

When she reached for her fly, his heart threatened to pound out of his chest.

He’d know her tonight. “Do you have protection?” he rasped. Mytheans didn’t carry disease, but pregnancy was a concern. As much as the thought of her carrying his child made his heart swell, now was not the time.

She nodded. “A spell.”

He pulled her head down and kissed her. She moaned and parted her lips.

Once she was panting, she scrambled off his lap and toed off her boots, tugging her jeans and underwear off at the same time. Her dark curls drew his gaze and worry struck him again. He remembered how tight she’d been around his fingers.

In a second, she was back atop him. She gripped his shaft in her hand, rising up on her knees. Her gaze gleamed with desire and anger.

He gripped her arms. “Wait.”

“No.” Her eyes flashed.

“I want to make sure you’re ready for me.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re angry and want to fuck,” he growled. “But you’re small. The first time I sink inside you, I want it to be like sliding home. I want you desperate for it.”

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