Page 109 of The Witch is Back

With a sly smile, she gestured. Bastian’s hands flew back up to the bedpost where they hung as if suspended by handcuffs. His expression made her smile widen into a grin. Dumbfounded, he looked at his hands, then back at her.

“I want to touch you,” he complained. His narrowed gaze drifted to her breasts. Lower. “I need to touch you. Where you’re warm. Wet.”

Her thighs clenched against his. Still, she shook her head. “My turn first.”

Silence crackled like static electricity. “Turnabout’s fair play, my dear Emma.”

She shivered at the dark, sensual threat. Then she set her hands to his chest.

She’d touched him before, but always he had been in control. Now she gave in to the pleasure of touching him, sliding her hands across his strong muscles, making them jump. She bent and followed the caresses with her mouth, an action that made him swear and his wrists jerk reflexively, especially as she settled more heavily onto him.

“Emma,” he gritted out, as she rubbed herself on him, her mouth moving down. “You done playing yet?”

“No.” She paused. “Unless...you don’t like it?”

Sweat beaded on his temples. “Do you?”

She ducked her head, smiled.

A purr of laughter came from him. “The lady likes to be in control. Why am I not surprised?” His head fell back on a groan. “Fine. I might die, but it’s your game.”

She liked the sound of that. Minutes flowed into each other, the only sounds erotic and darkly whispered. They were soon both naked. Emma wasn’t trying to restrain his wrists anymore, her concentration splintered by the incredible feeling of having him at her mercy.

He was cursing, one hand in her hair as she licked him into her mouth, sliding him in and out, nipples drawn tight in arousal as she listened to him losing his mind.

“Emma,” he grated out. “Please...let me...fuck...touch you.”

It was hard to concentrate. Her body was a mass of pleasure points, even the sheets rubbing against her skin a turn-on. Making her whimper.

“Emma.”

She couldn’t wait. With a thought she released his magic bonds. “Yes.”

She was hauled upward over his body. Pure sensation gripped her as he caught her mouth in a devouring kiss, one hand determinedly finding the center of her body, sliding his fingers in, thumb finding her clitoris with unerring accuracy. She cried into his mouth and he initiated a rhythm that made the dresser drawers rattle. Before she could worry, his mind was there next to hers. Protecting her. Letting her be free. But not going too deep. Thank the Goddess.

“I need you inside me,” she said into his mouth.

His eyes were black. “Yes.”

She sat up, unsure exactly what to do next. They hadn’t done it in this position before, her on top. He waited, his patience so clearly stretched to breaking point, but he let her do it her way. Hunger made his grip tight on her hips and she relished it. Holding his gaze, she reached back and took him in her hand. His body jerked, head crushing the pillow on a hiss.

Levering up on her knees, she positioned herself and took him into her body. He felt bigger in this position, harder. Black spots danced in front of her eyes as her back arched, as a shudder pulsed through her. When her hips met his, they both gasped. Sweat gleamed on both of them.

“It’s your game,” he ground out, fingers digging in. She’d have bruises. “Finish it.”

Yes. On a moan, she lifted almost off him, before sinking back down. Sensation streaked up her back. She quaked, a whimper slipping free.

“That’s it, baby.” His hand tangled in hers, and he brought it to his mouth, kissed the knuckles. “Ride me.”

She was lost in pleasure, one hand braced on his tight belly for balance, the other tangled in his as she rode him, listening for his groans, finding the spots that made her cry out. Up and up she went, her fingers tightening on him, her hips slamming back down now.

And then she was there on a strangled cry, back bowing as intense pleasure fried her from the inside out. She felt her body being pushed to the bed, blindly widened her thighs as Bastian thrust back into her on top. He dropped his head, kissed her hard.

She’d thought she was done, but as his hips pounded into her, the dark pleasure began again and she shifted, legs locking around his hips, joining him in the rhythm they’d learned together.

Telekinetic fingers pressed her clitoris in time with his hips, his own hands locked to her waist for better traction. Emma sobbed into his mouth as she was flung off the edge a second time, joined by him a moment later.

Their breaths were as tangled as their bodies, raw, aching, satisfied. Bastian stroked damp hair off her forehead, kissed it. The tender gesture made her heart clench. She told herself to enjoy the moment, not to overthink, not to worry.

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