Page 28 of Wrongfully Magicked
My body sparks with awareness, and it’s all I can do not to arch against the man holding me. My eyes open wide at that shocking revelation, and I lean back, peering up at the person I’m plastered against.
Soren.
Instead of leaping away like I should, the tension drains from my muscles, and I sigh in appreciation. His dark red hair is tousled, his striking black and silver eyes full of mischief, while the man himself looks very much like the cat who caught the canary.
From this angle, I swear he actually has fangs.
If I were a normal person, it would freak me the fuck out. Instead, the sight of his fangs sends a shiver down my spine, andthe skin on my neck tingles at the thought of him nibbling on me. I rip my eyes away from the delicious package of his ruffled, freshly fucked look and notice we’re in a small, nondescript room about the size of a car.
If I stretch, I could practically touch the four walls…not that I would want to touch the walls.
Even from a distance, I can tell they are covered in mold and…yeah, we’ll go with water stains. I grimace, refusing to look closer. The ripe odor of stale sweat and desperation permeates the room, the sour taste lingering at the back of my throat. The bed is nothing more than a mat, but Soren keeps me tucked close, so I’m not touching anything but him. I’m grateful that I don’t have to see the state of the mattress.
The disrepair should put me on edge, but I’ve seen worse.
Hell, I’ve lived and survived worse.
Soren trails his fingers up and down my spine with a light sweep of his hands, easily distracting me. Goose bumps spread in the wake of his touch, and my oversensitive skin has me squirming against him. I’m unsure if I’m trying to get closer or escape his attention. I’m not used to people touching me, and I don’t know if I like the emotions he invokes.
With his arms around me, I feel safe, and that’s more unsettling than our run-down surroundings. Instead of feeling comforted by the sensation, my skin crawls.
Every time I ever felt safe, shit would hit the fan and my life inevitably went down the toilet.
Not wanting to study my emotions too closely, I pull away and sit up. Now that I’m no longer touching him, my head clears and I finally notice what’s missing from the room. “Where is everyone else?”
I shouldn’t give a crap, but a knot of anxiety tightens in my chest at not having them in view. While they are big, tough men,they don’t know how the real world works in the borderlands. How cutthroat people can be when enough money is involved.
My family will offer a small fortune for my head—literally.
Anyone standing in their way will be considered an acceptable casualty. To my cousin, anyone who isn’t part of the main ten mage families are just servants and beneath consideration anyway.
I push to my feet, heading toward the door, my heart banging hard against my ribs. The urge to seek the guys out is like a compulsion, and I yank the door open, ready to sprint into the hall in search of them.
Soren reaches over my head with his massive hand and shuts it with an ominous thud before I can take a step. When I would have turned to confront him, he presses close, smooshing me between him and the door.
The man is a giant, sucking up all the oxygen in the room. His heavy weight should be crushing and claustrophobic, I should be screaming for help, but something about his nearness and the weight of his big frame pressed tight against my back makes me feel cocooned in warmth, and I just melt.
Once again, that weird feeling of safety wraps around me, and I press my forehead against the door to bask in the sensation for a second of peace.
I’ll be strong again in a moment.
He shifts closer, pressing more of his weight against me, then lowers his hands until they are on either side of my shoulders, caging me in his arms.
And damn if I don’t feel his cock press against my lower back.
A hum catches in the back of my throat at his massive size, and I’m not in control of my body when I go up on my toes and press back against him, desperate to feel his cock where I need it most.
A rumble vibrates from his chest, seeping into my body. My breath catches, and my lady bits flood with the need to take him hard and fast. “Do that again, big guy, and the fun will be over before it starts.”
A chuff comes from him, a husky laugh that has my nipples begging for his touch, the rough texture of the door doing nothing to soothe the aching need to feel his hands on my breasts…until tiny wisps of smoke rise from the door underneath my hands.
It’s like being doused in ice water, sobering me so fast that my lust evaporates, and I nearly whimper at being denied.
“You need to step back,” I warn him, staying completely still, trying not to trigger my powers. Something about him calls to me, making my fire want to come out and play, and my chest tightens with panic.
If I lose control, he will literally turn into a crispy critter. Though my family hasn’t been able to break me, no matter what torture they inflicted, I very much fear if I hurt him, even accidentally, I will shatter and never be able to put myself back together again. There is just too little of me left. I’ll never find all the jagged pieces.
I bow my head, struggling to keep my breath slow and even. Curling my hands into fists, I press my knuckles against the door, using the pain to ground me.
