Page 80 of Love's a Witch
“And we’ve only just begun, witchling. When was the last time you took pleasure for yourself?”
It had been ages, really, since I’d done anything. Self-care, in any form, had fallen to the back burner.
“Um.” I couldn’t really answer that, not when he dribbled some wine on my stomach. Putting the glass aside, I watched as he casually stripped, and almost swallowed my tongue at the sight of him. Long, thick, and supremely well equipped, as I’d assumed the first night I fell on him. But seeing him now, at full length and ready for ravaging, so to speak, my insides went liquid. I wanted him inside me, all over me, and I mewled in distress as he prowled around the bed.
“Soon, love, soon.” I watched as he protected himself with a condom—modern conveniences for modern witches, after all—and then dropped between my legs. His lips found the wine on my abdomen, and he kissed his way gently down, ignoring where I wanted him most. I bucked, and he placed one strong hand on my stomach, holding me down as he sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of my thigh.
“Ouch,” I hissed.
“Shhh,” Knox said, licking across my abused flesh. He lifted that gorgeous face of his to mine. I had to take a moment, just to revel in the view of this insanely handsome man kneeling between my legs, a sexy grin on his face. “Do you not like when I bite you, Sloane?”
“No, I do.” In fact, I’d liked it more than I’d realized, and when he bit again, likely bruising my skin a bit, the soft tremors of another orgasm rose inside me.
“Mine,” Knox said softly, biting again. “I want to mark you as mine, Sloane, in any way that you’ll let me.”
The comment was so basely male, so extremely egotistical, that I wanted to rear up and smack that cheeky grin off his face. And at thesame time, it was so intensely hot that I collapsed back against the cushions as a sharp wave of lust spiked through me. Damn it, I didn’t want it to excite me so much. But having someone claim me as their own?
Nobody had ever said those words to me before.
And now, here was this gorgeous man, chanting them against my thighs, burrowing his head between my legs until his tongue found me in one glorious slide of heat. My back bowed, and I whimpered as his mouth assaulted me, the slick, warm deliciousness of his tongue on me dragging me sharply to the edge once more.
“Stop, stop, stop,” I breathed until finally he pulled back.
“That’s the not the safe word, Sloane,” Knox said idly, and slipped a finger inside me as I gaped down at him. Trying to stay focused, I panted as he toyed with me, sliding another finger inside, widening me, as he found the sweetest bit of delight inside me. “What were you wanting to say?”
I was pretty sure my eyes had rolled back in my head at this point, and I was actively riding his hand as he loomed over me, patiently waiting for me to speak.
“I want you,” I finally gasped out, trying desperately not to orgasm yet. “Inside me. I want you, Knox.”
“Och, that’s a good lass. Those are the words I’ve been waiting to hear.” Knox pulled his hand from me, and shifted, positioning himself against me. His hand was slick at my side, and when he lowered his lips to mine, I could taste myself in his kiss. It was heady, erotic, and deeply intimate, and I moaned against his mouth, pulling against the ties that bound me back. Knox rubbed against me, toying, just the tip, as I kissed him, desperate for more.
“Say it again, Sloane.”
“Bloody hell, Knox.”
“Say it.”
Annoyed, beyond aroused, and desperately aching for him, I glared up at him.
“I want you inside me.”
“Not that.” Knox laughed as I fumed, letting out the sound a kettle makes.
“What exactly do you want me to say?” I ground out, shifting my hips, trying to get him to slide inside me, but still he teased me, sliding himself over me, but never in me. My need was an overfilled balloon, ready to pop, and I wanted to scream.
“That you’re mine, Sloane. Tell me you’re mine. Not just now, not just in this moment. But for real.”
“I… I…” I blinked up at him, and for a moment, I saw the vulnerability there.
A yearning.
That matched my own.
We both wanted to belong somewhere, didn’t we? I could understand this emotion, even if it scared the ever-loving hell out of me, and I could only do the one thing that made the most sense at the moment.
Be one hundred percent honest.
“I’m yours.” I whispered it, unsure if I’d be able to say it comfortably to his face in the light of the morning, but here, as the storm raged outside and the flames flickered in the grate, here I could show him the shadows of my heart.
