Page 52 of Waltzing With Witches

Shadow wings lift high behind him, each individual feather flaring out. And still he stands silently, allowing me to openly stare and admire.

“I’m in awe of you,” I say softly, bringing my eyes back to his.

His smile grows a little bigger, but his eyes are sad. “Don’t be, Morgan. I’ve done nothing to deserve kindness from you. I chased you away on purpose, remember?”

“Yeah,” I admit. “But I know what it feels like to be the one who looks out for everyone else. That’s me all the time with my sisters, even though they’re grown women.”

He nods, but when he opens his mouth to speak, no words come out. His brows scrunch together, and he shakes his head more vigorously.

I step closer. Should I touch him? Maybe slide my hands underneath his shirt and let him feel some affection? He must be starved for it.

A hundred years without touching someone? I can’t imagine it.

So, I touch him.

Reaching for the hem, I shove my hands up underneath and lay them flat on rock-hard abs. He hisses in a breath as I trace each muscle with my fingers, my eyes locked on his. His eyes narrow, his jaw tightening as his fangs descend.

I rub gently over his stomach until I reach his chest, and then I fan my fingers out. His nipples are hard points against my fingers.

He lets out a soft growl that sends heat flaring between my thighs. “Morgan,” he huffs. “This is a dangerous game.”

I rub a circle over his hard pecs. “Has anyone touched you since you met me, Abe?”

His jaw clenches rhythmically, and he shakes his head.

“Everyone needs touch.” I slide my right hand farther up, stroking my fingers along either side of his neck. His heartbeat throbs in a vein on the side. His chest rises and falls with faster breaths as he closes his eyes, his head falling forward.

“I’m undone,” he whispers. “Your touch on my neck is everything, Morgan. I don’t deserve it, but please don’t stop.”

All the pent-up anger and disappointment between us turns to dust and ash and floats away on the wind. Deeper understanding settles in its place as he shifts forward and presses his forehead to mine, wrapping an arm around my waist to pull me closer.

My poor, broken Abe.

I think I’ve been so mad at him this entire time because—it’s like he said—we’re drawn together. And fate keeps throwing fuel on that fire.

“I’m almost thankful for Annabelle’s poor behavior,” I say. “Because at least it led us to honesty.”

Ruby-red eyes open, and he slants his head sideways, mouth hovering above mine. When he speaks, his lips brush my skin.

“I never called Catherine about your issue because, even though I couldn’t admit it to myself, I didn’t want you to leave the castle. Logically, looking back, those are the mental steps I took. It puts you at risk, though.”

I nip at his lower lip, pulling it between mine. He groans, the arm around me tightening. When I let it go with a quick swipe of my tongue, he growls and brings his mouth to my ear. “Moira is waiting patiently upstairs for you. Like vampires, harpies have excellent hearing. Let’s pick this up later, shall we?”

I pinch his nipple playfully. “You could have told me that!”

His mouth comes below my ear, and he sucks in a deep, slow breath. “Mmm, chocolate. Your blood smells like dark chocolate to me. I’d give anything to taste you.”

My clit throbs in time with my heartbeat. Do I want that?

I slip my hands out from under his shirt. “Go home, sir, before things get indecent on Celset’s front porch.”

He takes a step back and smirks. “You’re aroused. I can taste the pheromones in the air. It’s exceedingly difficult to walk away from such obvious need.”

“Oh. My. God!” I whisper-hiss. “Can you not talk about my fucking pheromones right now?” I turn from him with a grumble. Before I take a step, he slings an arm around my waist and yanks me hard to his chest. My breath leaves me with a grunt, my head falling automatically to the side.

His mouth is on my neck before I can get a word out. Sharp teeth drag a path from my shoulder to my ear. He sucks on the skin below it with a ragged snarl.

“See how you respond to me, Morgan? How your head falls so naturally to the side? Your body can’t help but respond.”

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