Page 29 of Son of a Witch

“Oh, really?” I giggled into his taut chest as he lay me down gently on the bed, coming with me, cuddling me just the way I needed. “You’re becoming bolder and more confident. It’s sexy.”

My shy, nerdy boyfriend had really come out of his shell from the man who claimed to be held prisoner to his autism. Intimacy, touch, and communication weren’t easy for him like they were with the others, and I wanted to give him every assurance that he was just as precious to me.

Pascal reverently traced the column of my neck and I leaned back to give him better access. Each kiss erased the troubles plaguing my mind. I needed the comfort of his arms right now more than anything. Needed the hungry fire in his eyes. The warmth he poured into the cold, dark place inside me. To feel safe in the arms in the midst of the storm.

Most of all, I needed the strength he solidified inside me to handle everything the world threw at us because I was tired of being strong. Tired of trying to hold everything together when everything in my life felt out of control. Soon, the brief reprieve the team caught would be shattered, everything gone to hell again.

For now, I wanted to focus on what I could control. I wanted him to know how he made me feel with each arch of my body, every shiver, every goosebump springing up. Wanted him to hear it in every vibration my throat made. Wanted him to feel how much I wanted him with every desperate grasp of his shoulders and neck.

He kissed me like none of my men had ever kissed me before. Soft, sweet, slow, and thorough, memorizing my mouth, every slide of his lips like fire and light blazing through me. Heat curled within me, and I threw myself into his blinding kiss, tightening my arms around his neck. His lips made new music on my skin and my breasts turned to stiff points, practically burning through his clothing.

I gave him what he needed. Peace. Quiet. Freedom from the blame weighing him down. Release from the mental prison trapping him. Encouraging him to be the man inside, not the man he’d pretended to be. And like a man unleashed, his kisses twisted into frenzied, wild beats, designed to send me up in smoke.

His hands moved along the contours of my body, cupping and squeezing my breasts, hardening my nipples. “I want you naked and straddling me.”

“Yes, sir.” I saluted him, smiled, and began to peel off my clothes in a little strip show for him.

“Yeah, do that for me, songbird.” His hungry eyes soaked up every movement even as I slid off the bed to grab a condom.

I shimmied back to him, crawling over his lap, grinding against the tenting in his pants. He groaned, unbuttoning his shirt, desperate to be skin-to-skin.

“No. Let me.” I batted away his hands.

Slowly, I inched off his shirt, taking my time, enjoying the display of the lean, corded muscle of his chest. My fingers rose and fell over the three bumps of his abdomen, coming to settle on the swell of his large arms.

“Could you be any sexier?” I breathed on his neck, knowing he needed the compliments to feel worthy when he felt ignored next to my other men.

I hadn’t meant to make him insecure. During intimacy, I’d tried to respect his boundaries when it came to touching and being in close proximity to the others. I thought I gave him the space he needed to approach me and the others when he felt comfortable to. Boy did he come to me! Crashed into me for a two-way sexy time in the shower with Tor. Let Tor touch him sexually and vice versa. My man was brave and perseverant, working hard to overcome his tolerance levels. I was so proud of him.

Granted, he had a little help from the Elysian nectar at the time, which boosted his confidence. Next time my men and I came together would really test his level of acceptance and resilience. I was certain he would take the steps he needed in his own time. That was fine. Whatever he needed.

“Any sexier and it’d be a crime.” Pascal twitched his pecs and winked. Winked! He never winked.

This time it was really him and not the nectar speaking. Burt was dead and unable to make it for Pascal. As the soul chemist in the prison’s laboratory, I produced the thief avatar’s medicine.

I giggled and shoved at Pascal’s chest. “Did you just make a joke?”

“I did.” He grinned, and I adored his lopsided, cute smile. “Like it?”

My man was a caterpillar emerging as a bold, beautiful, sweet butterfly. New sides to him that I never would have expected. Changes for the better. He no longer felt the need to take the Elysian nectar to be confident like Tor, assertive like Knoxe, or calm like Raze. The man before me was pure and honest and didn’t hide anything from me.

“I love that it’s you and not someone else.” I passed a hand over his jaw, enjoying the sharpness and strength of it.

He flinched, blinked, but leaned into me harder, fighting his body’s natural reaction to touch. “It’s all me, Songbird.”

My heart sighed that he found confidence in himself. “Glad to hear that.”

Testing his thresholds, I stroked his jaw, tracing the line of his chin and full mouth. He twitched and blinked, telling me I was getting close to hitting it. Pride glowed hot in my chest that he made it this far. Every day our relationship progressed and he made it happen.

To distract him, I teased, “If you got any sexier, you’d be locked up in maximum security.”

A joke in poor taste considering Pascal had been locked up a few weeks ago under suspicion of murdering a guard harassing and threatening him. The team and I had proven him innocent and gotten him out. Anxiety lingered from that stressful period, and he needed to work out more, play more on his keyboard, venting his nervous energy. But I wanted to be able to laugh about the past and not let it haunt us.

To my surprise, he let one hand slip from my breast down my waist, when I thought he would need to break apart and have space. “Hold the sexiness. I don’t want to go back there.”

I giggled but not for long. His fingers slid between my drenched folds and I let out a surprised gasp.

“You like that, songbird?” He thumbed circles on my clit, and I could barely get out a word above the gargle in my throat. Fire rose in my core, taking over my body, rising steadily. “Tell me.”

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