Page 74 of Waltzing With Witches

“For what purpose?”

“It’s a surprise.”

He purses his lips. “Another gift from Pietro, I suppose?”

I chuckle and slip off the counter, patting it again. “Are you jealous, Keeper?”

He snarls and sits on his ass, hanging his legs over the edge to part his thighs and pull me between them. His eyes move to the ceiling. “Ben, bring me the black box on my nightstand, please.”

An answering rumble and then a series of creaks and moans are my answer. Abe doesn’t take his eyes off me, and I’m caught between him and the island. A long minute later, rippling floorboards carry a black box into the kitchen. Another board pops up, tossing the box onto the counter.

“Thank you, Ben,” I say as the Keeper grabs it, flipping an ancient-looking latch upward.

“I bought this for you right after we met,” he says, opening the box. “I had intended to give it to you if we attempted dating, but I can’t watch you wear another male’s ziol.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

KEEPER

Ispin the box around to face Morgan. Reaching in, I extract the ziol and lay it in her open palm. Blood still drips from the wound at her fingertip. My fangs ache with the need to bring that wound to my mouth and drink directly from her.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs, flipping it over.

“This ziol has been in my family for dozens of generations,” I share. “Betmal gave it to me when I came of age. It was his father’s before that.”

“He’s the parent you’re close to, right?” She flips the ziol back over to admire the front.

I nod. “You would love him if he could visit alone. Unfortunately, it takes him considerable effort to manage Evenia and Aberen. He has a strong gift of persuasion. It’s rare for vampires to have any sort of gift at all, but he does.”

She clutches the ziol to her chest. “Can I wear it now?” Her expression is so hopeful, so expectant.

“It would be my honor for you to.” I choke back the obvious emotion in my voice then take the pendant from her and place it over her neck, tucking it into her shirt. This means my fingertips inadvertently brush against the tops of her breasts. She hisses in a breath that sends heat exploding through me. Flipping my hand over, I drag the backs of my fingers over the swell of one large breast and then the other.

Morgan lets out a tense breath, nipples pebbling against the tight fabric. Sliding my fingers down over the surface of her breast, I rub a small circle over one taut nipple. Goose bumps cover her skin, her head falling to one side as her eyes flutter closed.

Her exposed neck calls to me, a vein throbbing beneath the surface. I tamp my need down hard, focusing on her instead. Slipping my fingers down the curves of her stomach, I grab the hem of her tee and pull it over her head.

Gray eyes flick to mine, black pupils overtaking her irises as I reach around her back and unclip her bra. I catch it as it falls off her, revealing perfect, round breasts tipped with dark nipples. A groan rips from my throat at seeing her exposed to me like this.

Her hands come to my thighs and slide upward, her fingers gripping my length and stroking. We groan together, my hips rocking to meet her touch. Heat flushes my skin as I pinch first one nipple, then the other, marveling at how it swells and tightens into a perfect rosy-red tip.

I reach down to pull her into my arms and suck that nipple into my mouth, but she shakes her head, grabbing at the waistband of my pants. I watch with a mixture of awe and lust as she unbuttons them and slides the zipper down.

My cock falls heavy and hard out of my pants, bobbing in front of her face. Gray eyes meet mine again, deviance playing across her expression. Her hands come to my knees, and she shoves them wide.

“Hold back as long as you can,” she teases, patting my hip. I oblige, lifting off the counter enough for her to pull my slacks all the way off. I lose the shirt next. And then I’m naked in front of her, drinking in the way she looks at me with eyes full of desire. Not just desire, open longing.

Logic begins to snap walls up around a mountain of desire, reminding me how easily it would be for me to accidentally hurt her. But just as fast, the look in her eyes pulls them right back down.

Deft fingers close around my cock and stroke me from base to tip and back again. I gasp, crumpling in half as pleasure streaks down my spine to coil in my sack. Everything in my lower half clenches and tightens. I don’t even realize I’ve squeezed my eyes tightly shut until a warm mouth closes around the tip of my dick and sucks hard.

“Morgan!” I scream into the kitchen, pleasure ripping through me in great waves that eat me up from the inside out. I fist her hair in one hand, steadying myself with the other as I look down.

And what a fucking sight she is. Pink lips close around my cock as her eyes flutter shut. It takes every ounce of control I can muster not to thrust up into that hot, wet heat and take more.

A strangled noise leaves me when she licks up the underneath of my cock as her mouth slides off me. My fist in her hair tightens as I sit up, brushing hair out of her face with my other hand. She presses one of my knees farther out to the side, holding me wide as she devours my cock over and over. When she strokes me, depositing a small trail of blood from her finger, I howl at the pleasure that fills my body, demanding I spill into her.

I pant and gasp and growl every expletive I know as her movements grow faster, wilder. The smell of her blood permeates the air, a sensual layer on top of her natural scent. Images of her on top of me, beneath me, succumbing to my bite, batter me as I chase orgasm within her heat.

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