Page 13 of The Witch's Spell
My lips curve up. “Is it working?”
Instead of answering, he turns from the window, wraps his hands around my waist, and spins me about so I’m facingthe bed. I let out a tiny breath of surprise as he bends me over. Then the warm air in the bedroom kisses my thighs as Faolan lifts my shift, bunching it at my waist.
His trousers fall to the bedroom floor with a whisper. His hands find my waist again. I can feel the tips of his claws pressing into my skin.
There’s pressure between my legs. Then Faolan pushes inside me, and I let out a gasp as I stretch around him.
He starts slow, warming me up to him. But I can still feel the anger simmering in our bond, and it makes him rough.
Deliciouslyrough.
One of his hands releases my waist to tangle in my hair, and I just barely restrain myself from letting out a moan. With the house packed full tonight, I figure it best to keep our lovemaking quiet.
Or as quiet as we can.
He growls again as he drives himself into me. My mouth opens in a silent plea for more. I push my desire—my hunger for him—through our bond.
And Faolan responds.
His thrusting intensifies as his free hand reaches around to touch my clit. When he finds it, he squeezes, making my body jerk. But his fingers are still tangled in my hair, and he holds me down, trapping me, keeping me captive as he continues to ravage me.
I love when he treats me like I’m his prey. He might let me boss him aroundoutsideof the bedroom, but once the door closes, he’s the alpha. He’smyalpha.
Fingers clutching the blanket, hair all around me, I close my eyes, let Faolan’s anger and passion burn through me,taking me to new heights. His fingers circle my clit while his other hand pulls harder on my hair.
My body feels like it’s at his mercy, like it has fully and happily submitted to him.
And if his panted breaths and rabid thrusts are any indication, he enjoys this just as much as I do.
Faolan reaches his climax quickly. He presses my body firmly into the mattress, and his heat explodes inside me. He snarls as he releases himself into me, not holding back.
I’m going to miss this when I’m not pregnant anymore.
When his pleasure has been fully satisfied, he pulls his length out of me, only to use his fingers instead. Claws now retracted, his pushes his fingers deep inside me, matching his pace to the circles he’s now rubbing against my clit.
My pleasure intensifies, my legs starting to shake. The scar on my neck—Faolan’s claiming mark—tingles with delectable heat.
And I’m still face down in the blankets when I reach my peak. Fingers clutching and grasping at the bedding, I bite down on my lip to keep from crying out. His fingers continue working me, carrying me through my climax until my body gives out and I collapse fully onto the mattress, breathing hard, hair stuck to my damp skin.
Faolan licks his fingers clean, then gives me his sharp smile as I glance up at him over my shoulder.
“Yes,” he says at long last. “You successfully distracted me.”
WHEN I AWAKEN, THE WIND is still blowing outside, making Brookside groan. The fire has burned low in the hearth, though the embers still glow, casting a dim orange light through the room. It’s still nighttime, then. But what woke me?
Beside me, Faolan shifts, sitting up in bed. The blanket pulls away from my shoulders, making me shiver, and I cuddle closer to him and his body heat.
“What is it?” I ask.
He tips his head, listening. “It sounded like someone knocked.”
My brow furrows in confusion. “On the front door?”
As if answering my question, footsteps pad through the parlor, growing quieter as Alden heads for the foyer. The knock must’ve woken him as well.
“But,” I say sleepily, still trying to wake up, “it’s the middle of the night.” My bleary gaze flicks to the window. Between the thin gap in the drapes, I can see dense snow still falling. “And it’s a blizzard.”
Faolan’s voice is a low rumble as he says, “I know. Stay here.”
