Page 98 of The Witch Queen

She sits up, breasts swaying with the movement and eyes sparkling. I growl when I notice her hard nipples, blush circles surrounding them. Ineedto put my hands on her. But when I try to, she binds them behind my back with her own cord of light, and my cock twitches. I enjoy teasing her, like bossing her around and shredding that control she so carefully maintains. But the thought ofherorderingme, taking her pleasure from me, is equally, if not more, intoxicating. I want her so badly, but I know she needs to take her time, so I don’t let myself hope we might do more tonight.

“My turn,” she says, voice low and husky, and everything around us—the mist still lingering from her outburst of magic, the ivy that’s creeped in through the windows and under the balcony door, the debris of metal objects that litter the floor—disappears. All I see is Laurel, the way her verdant eyes track my movements with the same hunger I feel. She wantsmore, thank fuck. I don’t dare breathe, not wanting to jinx this moment. Without warning, she aersteps us to the bedroom, not releasing the bindings around my wrists. A massive four-poster bed sits in the middle of the room, curtains hanging loose around it. Laurel pushes me against it, releasing me for an instant before binding me again, this time tied tightly to the columns of the bed.

“You’redirty, witchling.” The delight is clear in my voice, and she gives me her own wicked smirk, the gesture bringing me immense pleasure. What I don’t say is that I’m coiled so tight with need I might explode with magic like she did.

“We’re only just beginning,” she whispers in my ear, sending shivers down my spine, and now I know I’m not going to be able to stay in control of my magic or my release. Keeping her gaze locked on mine, she slowly unbuttons my pants and pushes them down to my feet along with my undergarments, freeing my aching cock. I sigh in pleasure, the strain against the fabric of my clothing finally gone. I step quickly out of the pants gathered at my feet, aching for her to touch me. She traces one finger from my collarbone all the way down my chest, then drops to her knees. I swallow, my mouth dry and my body humming with need. Wrapping her delicate hand around my hardened cock, she looks up at me through dark lashes with those piercing green eyes. I drop my head back, eyes closed, and moan my pleasure. “Keep those eyes on me, princeling.” She mimics my words from earlier and I snap open my eyes, looking down at her just as she licks up the length of my shaft. Another noise escapes me, this time an animalistic yowl, and her lips quirk before she laps up the bead of liquid gathering at my tip. With one singular motion, she pumps once and then brings my cock into her warm mouth, moving in and out with a maddening slowness that makes me shiver. I want to touch her, to wrap my hands in her hair. Even though I could easily unbind myself from the ropes of light, I don’t, letting her claim me the way she let me claim her. My hips thrust into her involuntarily with need, but she only takes me deeper, swallowing the movement.

“Fuck, Laurel,” I groan. She responds by caressing one of my balls, and the movement sends me spiraling in a wave of pleasure. I take that as a sign of encouragement, and thrust my hips harder, fucking her mouth with reckless abandon. Her bright green eyes flutter up to mine, and I nearly come at the sight. Every time she shifts, her breasts sway, and it drives me mad. My thrusting intensifies, but she doesn’t waver, even as her eyes water. I’m losing myself, lost in the feel of her around me, pushing deeper and deeper as she moans around me. Fuck, I won’t last much longer.

She must be able to tell I’m unraveling, because she pulls back with a soft smile, wiping her mouth over the back of her hand. Then she licks me from navel to chest before placing soft kisses over my neck and the sensitive tip of my pointed ears. Without warning, she sucks my neck so hard it’ll leave a mark, and I growl in pleasure at the thought.

She releases my wrists from the ropes of light binding them, and I’m instantly on her, unable to keep my hands off her for even a second in my freedom. I scoop her into my arms and lay her out on the bed, but as soon as I try to lower myself over her, she wraps her legs around my hips and flips us so that she’s on top, smirking at my shocked expression.

“I told you, it’s my turn,” she murmurs, a predatory glint in her eyes, and it nearly undoes me right then. Like a phantom of my dreams, she kisses the hollow of my throat, her pert nipples skimming across my skin as she makes her way down my chest and stomach, kissing every inch of me she can reach. It drives me mad, the slow way she’s taunting me, but I wouldn’t dream of rushing her, wouldn’t dream of rushingthis.

Sitting up, her eyes alight with glee a second before a warm, teasing wind dances across my shaft. I let out a gasp, and that only encourages her. Somehow, I feel her hands touching me in multiple places, though I see them resting lightly on the sides of her wide hips. Those phantom hands massage my shoulders and delicately trace the lines of my abs. When they squeeze my shaft and pump up and down in a steady rhythm, I buck my hips and let out a groan. That only makes Laurel chuckle in satisfaction, those haunting green eyes shining with delight.

“Witchling,” I moan. “You’re going to make me come without even touching me. That just seems wrong. Let me. Inside. You.” I mean for the words to come out teasing and cheeky, but they’re breathy, practically pleading. With an unholy, feral grin, she crawls above me, her long hair caging me. When her face is right above mine, she slowly lowers her hips, guiding my shaft inside her hot, wet slit. Her eyes never leave mine, the look on her face possessive. I moan at the perfect feel of her as she drops inch by inch, taking my large girth without hesitation. “That’s it, nice and slow,” I encourage. The way her nipples harden and her eyes heat tells me she likes the praise, so I keep going. “You’re doing so well. My good girl.” At that, she shivers, the movement wracking her whole body in a way I can’t wait to see again. She keeps going, not stopping the tantalizing drop of her hips. When she’s fully seated, we both let out moans, grinding our hips in circular movements. I want to touch her clit, want to pull out so I can thrust back into her. But she’s in control, and there’s too much pleasure in that thought to take it from her. “You were made for me,” I murmur.

Instead of responding, she lifts herself and slams her body back down on mine. An involuntary noise makes its way out of me, and I bring one hand to her hip and the other to her breast. Her head dips back, hair cascading down her back and breasts swaying.

“That’s right,” I whisper, voice low. “Ride me. Fuck me, witchling. Take what’syours.”Her smooth thrusts get faster, and her breaths come out in pants. She bites her lip, and the sight makes me thrust up into her so deep she lets out a groan of surprise. Moisture glistens across her stomach and collarbone in the soft glow that surrounds us. My power has a mind of its own, caressing her body with gentle ribbons of light. She moans at the touch, and any hope I had of keeping my hands, or my magic, to myself disappears. I squeeze her nipple and her hip in unison with my hands, the pressure causing her to increase her grinding to a punishing pace.

“Thorne, I’m close. Please,” she whimpers, practically begging me to help her finish, and that’s the sign I need to bring those ribbons of light to her clit, stroking her again and again with my magic while keeping my hands on her hips to guide her up and down my body. Those incredible tits bounce up and down with the movement, and I’m transfixed at the look of her astride me. I never want to leave this position, her body hovering above me, hair fanned out around her. Her cheeks are flushed bright red with exertion, and I have to focus to keep myself from cresting that wave with her. But I’m not done, and I won’t come until I’ve brought her to climax at least a few more times.

I can tell she’s reaching a fever pitch, her hips rocking back and forth so quickly she practically vibrates. She’s also glowing brightly again, as sure a sign as any that she’s close. It’s remarkable, and I hope she always lights up like this when we make love. I replace my light with my thumb on her clit, pressing hard just as I thrust up into her, and that does it. She comes again with a small breathy noise, this time not an eruption but a gentle wave, and it’s just as beautiful. The walls of her pussy flutter, squeezing my cock and nearly finishing me. I stroke her through her crest, waiting until her hips are jerking with overstimulation before I remove my hand from between her thighs.

As soon as she’s wrung out every drop of her pleasure, I’m moving, swapping our bodies so that she lays prone beneath me. Rising to my knees, I kiss her neck with a hungry need, then suck deeply to leave my own mark just under her ear. I think she likes it too, because she brings her hand to my cock and strokes again. I’m on fire, my body thrumming with electricity, and lightning strikes across the ceiling. It lights up the room in flashes as I continue to explore her satiated body with gentle caresses. Ineedto be inside of her again, but I want to give her time to come down, so I gently lift her naked, curvy body and carry her to the wall, something about pinning her against it the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I kiss her slowly, tenderly, letting her know without words how much I worship her.

“You’re bewitching, Laurel,” I murmur as I smooth back her hair from her face and take it between my hands. She looks so stunning, the glow of exertion making the freckles that dot across her nose stand out. I kiss each one I can find, and she laughs, so bright and melodic that it warms everything inside of me.

“That tickles,” she whispers, dropping her forehead to mine. I only lay another kiss across her brow, then angle her head so I can kiss her deeply, my tongue sweeping across every crevice of her mouth. The soft and gentle kiss quickly turns heated, and without warning she wraps her legs around me. “Fuck me again,” she demands, and I oblige.

With a punishing thrust, I enter her, and she cries out in pleasure. I keep up the rhythm, slamming into her harder and harder as she moans in ecstasy. The feel of her tight walls around my cock is intoxicating, and I lower her body so that I can reach even deeper.

Her hands claw my back, drawing blood, and I see the moment the scent hits her. Her body goes preternaturally still, and she tracks me like prey, scanning every inch of my body as it continues to thrust in and out of her. All of that passion and need homes in on one singular focus.Me.Eyes dilated, she bares her teeth.

“Mine,” she growls, the sound so unlike her but thrilling all the same. I push deep into her, holding the position. She cries out my name, circling her hips to feel every angle of my cock deep inside her. I shift, somehow getting even deeper, and that unlocks something wild inside of her. She claws at me, the momentary pain blissful as she soothes her magic over every scrape of her nails. Pupil-blown eyes bore into me as she grinds her hips in rhythm with mine. Then, so fast I can barely track her, she bites me, right above my heart. The gesture sends an electrifying shock through my entire body, and small sparks of my magic dance between us, like tiny lightning strikes connecting our bodies. I bleed from the wound, but she laps up my blood with her tongue, sighing contentedly as she does. “Mine,” she says again, this time softly, eyes returning to usual now that she’s claimed me.

As Laurel returns to herself, I lose every inch of control I possessed, a feral beast locked deep inside of me unleashing itself. In an instant, we’re against the bed, and I’ve bent her forward, her elbows resting on the mattress and her ass in the air. I lightly slap one curvaceous cheek, watching for her reaction. She moans in satisfaction, turning back to me to nod her consent. I slap her again, this time with more force, and she lets out a high-pitched whine for more.

“I told you that when you claimed me, I’d take you from behind. And I intend to honor my word, witchling,” I whisper in her ear before I thrust into her with a roar. She screams my name, and it sends me into a state of ecstasy. I keep pounding into her, and every time I do, she cries in pleasure, begging me to bring her to release. She pushes her hips back into me, trying to force me deeper, so I stop and gently guide one leg to rest on the bed, then the other. When she’s on the mattress on all fours, I haul her backward and push her head down so that she’s even more exposed to me. Then I enter her again, and the position allows me to push so deep inside her she lets out a low, surprised grunt, the breath knocked from her. As I hold the deep position, I growl out the words I now know she loves to hear. “Good girl. My good Laurel.” My hands wrap her hair in a fist, gently tugging even as I keep the other hand on the back of her neck to keep her gently pinned in place.

Without warning, I pull out and slam into her again, and this time every thrust inside her is euphoric. Her body shakes with need, incoherent screams and moans coming from her now. Pressure builds in my spine as a thick mist gathers around us, my magic completely uncontainable. The room flashes again with lightning. It feels like we’re fucking in a thunderstorm. I know I’m close, so I remove my hand from her head and bring my fingers to her clit, no magic, gently stroking while I continue my demanding rhythm. There’s nothing between us now, no magic aiding our pleasure, no smirks or winks hiding what we truly feel. Just our naked, glistening bodies pressed to one another, open and raw in our need.

The thread of light I feel inside my aether-heart pulls taut between us, telling me she’s close to her peak. With another roar, I push as deep as I can, my release erupting out of me at the same time Laurel squeezes with her own orgasm. The room flashes blindingly bright, and there’s a cracking noise behind me I ignore. We slowly grind against one another, wringing out our pleasure.

When we’re fully spent, I gently turn her around to face me, my hands rubbing up and down her arms to warm her pebbled skin. “Laurel.” I say her name like a prayer, going to my knees in front of her. She shudders. Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I bring my lips to rest just above her heart, swirling my tongue across the swell of her breast. I gently caress the curve of her body, resting my hand on her full hip. “Mine,” I whisper softly. Then I bring my mouth down and bite her, firmly, drawing blood. She moans. When the scent hits me, I instantly harden, wanting to fuck her all over again, but I stop myself. I want to savor this moment with her, want to take in every detail of our joining and what feels like the cresting of the mating bond.

Slowly, I will aether to lap against the wound with light, healing the cut but leaving the scar. I do the same to my own wound. Then I place her hand over my scar and put my hand over hers.

“Mates,” I whisper, and joyful tears build in her eyes.

“Mates,” she sobs, and the word obliterates my control. I crowd her body with mine, and we’re frantic for one another once again, skin and magic clashing in a heated fury.

Hawthorne

In the quiet after they accepted the mating bond, the witch and the fae fell even deeper into their magical connection. But it was a momentary respite, their fate marching ever closer.

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