Page 89 of Magic's Rise

“No.” Groaning, I reach down to dig my fingernails into his ass. “Stop holding back.”

His lips graze the bump on my face. “You’re hurt.”

“Not that hurt.” I writhe beneath him, so close to release that it aches.

He reaches between our bodies, his fingers finding my nub and circling it as he thrusts deep and holds still. “Come with me.”

Pressure grows inside me as his knot swells, locking us together. My nails rake his back as we peak, and my inner muscles squeeze around him as warmth floods my womb.

Haut presses a tender kiss to my forehead. “I love you, mate.”

“I love you, too,” I pant.

Pulling one of my legs over his hip, he rolls to the side, taking me with him.

The move shifts his knot, making me gasp as another shiver wracks through me. “Stop moving.”

He chuckles and molds me to his body. “I’m not going anywhere.”

With a sigh of contentment, I mash my face between his pecs. “It’s not fair.”

He strokes the back of my head. “What’s not fair?

I blow a raspberry against his skin. “That your boobs are bigger than mine.”

“Shush, brat.” His hand crushes my face into his chest.

A giggle escapes me before I quiet. “I’m glad I didn’t die tonight.”

“Me, too.” His hold gentles, and he rubs my back. “Me, too.”

THE ROOT OF THE PROBLEM

The first light of dawn brightens the sky as we unload from Levi’s Jeep at the western border of town.

I shiver, hugging my thermos filled with hot chocolate, while Haut’s breath puffs out in white clouds beside me. He’s got that rugged, ‘just-shook-off-my-fur’ vibe going that almost makes the cold sexy.

Haut’s gaze catches mine, and he lifts his arms to brush back his hair, the sleeves of his thermal stretching over his muscles.

Tris’s glare shifts from me to Haut. “Did you and Haut get enough sleep last night?”

I rip my attention away from Haut’s flexing biceps to look at Tris. His sandy blond locks are tousled from a night spent monitoring Aspen, and he eyes me with a mixture of frustration and jealousy.

Obviously, he knows Haut and I broke the no-nooky rule, and a lack of good rest only adds to his grumpiness.

“Oh, check out that owl!” I jab a finger toward a tree where absolutely no owl is perched.

“Nice try.” Tris chugs from his coffee thermos. “I’m running on fumes here, making sure Aspen didn’t cross over into ghost territory, while you were canoodling with the enemy when you should have been resting your concussion.”

“We don’t know that I have a concussion. And it was very kind of you to make sure Aspen didn’t die again.” I pat Tris’s arm, then yank back my hand when it looks like he’ll bite. “Such a sacrificer.”

“I didn’t need to be observed overnight.” Bags hang under Aspen’s eyes, giving testament to a sleepless night. “My counter-curse eradicated the poison from my system.”

“Which only activated because of Rowe, on account of you being unconscious and dying.” Tris takes another long swig of coffee. “But good to know my concern was in vain. Next time, I’ll leave you to meet your maker alone.”

“My apologies, Tris.” Aspen pulls his walking stick from the Jeep and closes the door. “I know you were only looking out for me, and I appreciate it.”

“Could have fooled me,” Tris grumbles.

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