Page 11 of Witch's Rite
Wanting me all to himself yet still willing to share? It was like a paradox that I couldn't handle but made me so incredibly hot.
His tongue surged into my mouth as he pulled me against him so tightly, I gasped for air but still couldn't get enough of him.
I felt so drunk on how badly I wanted him, my feet didn't even feel like they were on the ground anymore. I was in freefall.
When something soft but firm supported my back, I realized my feet did come off the ground. He picked me up and laid me down on the shag rug in front of the fire.
My core pulsed with a dull, aching need as he gently settled his weight on top of me, my thighs glued to the outside of his hips and pulling him toward my center.
"Li--, ah, Deja," he groaned hotly into my neck as one adventurous hand explored under my shirt.
I froze, barely catching it in my lust-filled haze, but it was enough to kill everything for me. My hooded eyes snapped open and my body went stiff, no longer melting against his. He noticed immediately and reluctantly pulled his mouth away to look at me.
"Something wrong?"
"Please tell me you didn't almost just call me by someone else's name," I said, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice.
"What? No," he protested but his face gave him away. "Deja, I--"
"Liar," I said, pushing up on his broad shoulders. "Get off me."
After wanting nothing more than to feel him inside me, I suddenly felt the complete opposite-- shitty, used, humiliated, and dying to get away. I had to leave before he saw me cry.
He sat up slowly. I quickly adjusted my clothes and scooted out from under him.
"Wait," he growled, catching hold of my wrist before I could stand. "Please listen to me."
"Let me go," I hissed, the tears already threatening to spill.
"That wasn't another person's name, it was yours," he said quickly. "I almost said the name you had when I first met you."
He released his hold on me and for some reason, I stayed rooted to my spot.
"Not in this lifetime but when I fell," he went on. "Theveryfirst time."
A light bulb went on somewhere in the back of my mind. So the reincarnation theory really was true. Apparently, I had been alive since nearly the beginning of time itself. All the feelings of familiarity and deep bonds with these men started making sense.
But at that moment, my pride was wounded and I did not want to let him off the hook.
"So what was it?" I challenged. "What was my name back then?"
He leaned his head back and sighed, looking conflicted.
"I can't tell you. I'm sorry."
"How convenient," I muttered, rising to my feet and heading toward the door.
"Pay attention to your dreams," he called after me. "The answers are there."
I paused with my hand on the doorknob and one foot outside.
"What do you mean?"
In a split second he stood next to me, icy blue eyes hungry and full of desire.
"The dreams you have. They feel like memories because they are. The more time you spend with us and the more physical contact we have, the more you remember. You have to remember yourself, Deja. We can't just sit you down and tell you. It could… affect your memories and perceptions."
He bit his lip, looking conflicted for a moment before he spoke again.
