Page 64 of A Witch and Her Minotaur
Each step slow, I move across the sitting room toward him. He stares down at me, the firelight reflecting in his glassy dark eyes.
“I know you want this,” I say as my palm finds his hardening length and I start to stroke him through the fabric. His breath hitches. “And it’s okay. We’re not doing anything wrong.” I run my thumb along his tip; it’s already warm through his trousers. His eyes squeeze closed. “Don’t let them ruin this.”
Cairn pushes his hips forward, grinding himself against my palm. His eyes flash open. And then he’s guiding me backward across the sitting room, lifting me by my hips and holding me to his chest as I wrap my legs around his waist. The way he holds me, I feel like I’m weightless, held aloft by the ocean waves.
His dark gaze meets mine. And before I can catch my breath, he kisses me. His lips taste of cinnamon and sugar, and he smells like earth from working outside this morning. The heat from his kiss travels through my veins, setting every inch of my body alight.
With what feels like very little effort, Cairn sinks slowly to the rug in front of the fire. He lays me down, my back cradled by the softness of the rug, all without breaking our kiss. And when he does finally pull away, allowing me a moment to breathe, it’s only to pull his tunic off over his head and horns. His brown skin gleams in the golden light of the fire,contrasting against mine as he reaches for my lightweight cotton panties.
They come off with a whisper, and then I’m lying bare before him. His gaze is hungry as it settles between my legs.
For a moment, I worry he’ll resist again, that I’ll have to beg and plead until he finally gives in. But blissfully, I’m wrong.
Cairn presses a thumb against my clit, which is already pulsing with warmth, then slips one finger inside me. It’s thick, but there’s little resistance—I’m already wet and waiting.
I close my eyes as he pushes his finger deeper, thumb rubbing circles against my swollen clit.
“Are you sore?” he asks. “From last time?”
I don’t bother to open my eyes, just give my head a slow shake side to side. “No. Not anymore.”
“But you were?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He makes a rumbly sound from deep in his chest. Concern? Approval? Maybe both. I don’t know. I’m too focused on the feel of his finger inside me.
Cairn shifts forward, one hand still working me while his other presses into the rug beside my head. Now I open my eyes, if only to look up into his.
Eyes dark, he stares back at me. And when he adds a second finger, pushing it into me alongside the first, he doesn’t break our stare.
I flinch, just a little, and he goes slower, giving my body time to adjust to him.
“How long,” I whisper, voice hitching as he resumes the slow finger thrusts, “will it take until I’m ready?”
His lips pull up slightly. “You asked me that last time.”
I give him a pout. “And you still don’t have an answer for me.”
Inside me, Cairn scissors his fingers, stretching me until I gasp. “Only you can answer that.”
Then I want to do it now, I think, though by the way I’m already gripping his fingers, I know we can’t.
With determination, I say, “Add another.”
One of his brows arches. “We’ve only just started.”
“Just do it. I’m ready.”
He regards me for a long moment. Then, finally, he does as I say.
Chapter 31
Cairn
SHE’S SO DEMANDING FOR SUCH a small witch. But I’m more than happy to do as she says.
I pull my fingers out of her—they glisten in the light of the fire—then add a third and start to ease them inside her. There’s more resistance this time, her pussy squeezing tight. Lyra’s crimson eyes close, and a small wrinkle of pain forms in her brow.
