Page 85 of Wrongfully Magicked
ANITA
Holy shit!
A magical penis!
I’ve never been so thoroughly seduced without a single touch. My aching body wants me to cross my legs and cover my crotch, but I can’t deny that I feel empty without him. Grumpy at his smug attitude, I peer at him over my shoulder a little dubiously. “So you’re offering to fuck me out of the goodness of your heart?”
I cringe at how eager I sound, but his hearty laughter cuts off any embarrassment.
“Fuck no.” Soren snorts at the absurdity, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I’m a demon, and my heart is black as pitch.” He leans in closer, his warm breath caressing the back of my neck as he speaks. “I want to fuck you for the sheerpleasure of it, then, when you beg for it, I’ll put my claim on you for everyone to see.”
His hand comes up to encircle my throat, his hold turning possessive, and his fangs graze my neck. “You’re mine. I plan on fucking you until you beg for mercy. I’ll only stop when you finally admit out loud that you’re mine.”
My heart swells in my chest, feeling too small to fit inside my body, and every inch of my skin tingles. Maybe I should be worried about his possessiveness, but I can’t ignore the desperate need that refuses to be appeased until he does exactly what he claimed.
I’m done fighting myself.
I’ve always yearned for a family of my own, but I didn’t think it was in the cards for me. I always assumed that I would be dead before I got the chance, but then the guys came bursting into my life and everything changed.
They offered me hope.
A chance for a different future.
And I’m determined to grab it with both hands.
With that in mind, I tip my head to the side and offer him my throat, my heartbeat going a mile a minute. Anticipation, excitement, and nerves collide, and I barely resist the urge to squirm.
A growl rumbles at my back, the vibration tightening my nipples, and I bite my lip to stifle my groan. He nips my neck but doesn’t break the skin, and I huff in annoyance. “So now you want to play coy?”
I turn in his lap and straddle him. Predictably, his eyes drop to my breasts, where they bob in the water, and he licks his lips. “Stryker left such pretty marks on your skin.”
I glance down, and my eyes widen when I see bright red lines decorating my body.
Marks from where his claws traced my skin over and over.
They almost look like they are the same pattern as his spots. Though I should be pissed he was trying to place his stamp of ownership on me, I don’t get the impression that was his intent.
No, it was like his beastling was marking me as part of his pack, and I’m totally charmed. I peer up at Soren from under my lashes and realize I want the same acceptance from his hellhound.
I lean forward, draping my arms over his shoulders, then scrape my nails through the short hair along the back of his neck. He leans into my touch, unable to muffle his tortured groan. Feeling more confident, I sink my fingers into the tangled red mop on top of his head, then I yank his head back.
His mouth opens, displaying his prominent fangs, and liquid fire fills my veins. At my rough handling, his cock jerks between my legs, and my smile widens. I trail my other hand down the side of his neck, allowing my nails to scrape roughly against his skin. “What do you think? Your neck would look pretty with my bite decorating it.”
He takes a shuddering breath, a quiver going through him, and he grips the side of the tub to keep his hands to himself. His eyes turn pure black, then he shifts and sinks lower into the water.
His cock slides against my clit in one long stroke that threatens to send my eyes rolling back in my head. I arch against him, rocking my hips, and my pussy throbs with the need to be filled.
At first, I think he’s trying to distract me, until he turns his head to the side and offers me his throat. That’s when I realize I’m both right and wrong—he does want to distract me, but so I would lose control and bite him like I promised.
Hewantsmy teeth in his throat, and I’m helpless to resist the silent demand.
Even as I lean forward, the heat in my veins ignites. My teeth ache, my mouth waters, and I nibble along the strong cord of his throat. I love the hitch in his breathing and adore the silent growl rumbling in his chest. He remains absolutely still, allowing me to do whatever I want, and something primal sweeps over me.
My blood is so warm that it burns, and I can’t resist the compulsion to taste him. As I set my mouth against his neck, my teeth throb then lengthen—turning into fangs!
They are so sharp, they immediately puncture his throat with a pop like the tough skin of an apple. It snaps me out of the haze of lust. Before my mind can clear, blood spills into my mouth, and I’m lost.
Instead of tasting blood, power and heat cascade through every cell of my being.
