Page 86 of De-Witched

Frustrated, she blew a loosened curl out of her face. “Why?”

“Because. It’s my turn.”

He spun her around, her back to his front, surprising her into a super sexy squawk. It melted into a breathy catch as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “How does this come off?” His hand slid down her hip, inching the material up. “Or shall I solve the issue the same way as last time?”

She really liked this dress. But she wasn’t an idiot. “Rip it.”

He must have used magic because the words had barely cleared her mouth before there was a loud tearing sound and from top to bottom, the fabric of her dress was in two halves. It dropped to the ground, puddling there, leaving her in her silver heels and underwear.

His hands skimmed her body as though committing it to memory. When she tried to turn, he held her in place.

“I dreamt of you.” The words whispered into her throat. “Like this. Here. With me.”

She arched against him. “With you,” she agreed, hissing as one of his hands covered her breast. “Only with you. Gabe.”

He molded her, squeezing gently, skimming a thumb over the tight nipple, making delicate sensations shoot between her thighs. She went up on tiptoe as he rolled the bud between his fingers.

“I’m going to lick you here.”

She swallowed.

“Then here.” His hand moved to her other breast, flicking the nipple so more lightning struck. “Everywhere. I want you to cry out my name.”

She’d had enough. Without warning, she reached behind her and palmed him, shaping, squeezing.

His grip tightened as he sucked a breath in through his teeth. “Leah.”

“I never thought I’d say this,” she said, voice raw. “But the time for talking is over.”

And suddenly it was.

She wasn’t sure if she’d spun or if he’d turned her, but they were face-to-face. He pushed her so she backed up, suddenly dropping onto the couch. That lovely, long, soft couch.

As she reclined, his eyes roamed her, hot, intense. His hands dropped to his pants, unzipping. The sound reverberated through her, clenching in all sorts of places. He pushed both his pants and boxer briefs down his long legs, stepped out of them.

She was unable to take her eyes off the length of him. She shifted, even that friction amping up her frustration as she ached, desperate for him to be inside her.

A condom packet appeared in his hand. He tossed it onto the coffee table, barely pausing before he braced a hand against her chest and nudged her to lie flat. She registered he’d lost his socks and shoes at some point, before her attention diverted back as he came down over her.

Now, she thought, trembling ridiculously. Her hands stroked over his arms, sculpting the muscles that bunched under her fingers.

But he wasn’t done with her, and with every teasing touch, deft stroke, nibble, kiss, lick, he drove her slowly into a fever where even the cool brush of air against her sensitized skin had her quivering. Nothing escaped his attention: her breasts, her stomach, her hips, her thighs, between them. He was a master of control, patiently guiding her to the edge before pulling her back, again and again and again until she reared up and bit his bicep in revenge.

As though his control had slipped, green sparks burst around them, dozens of tiny iridescent lights. One hit her skin and buzzed, a hot vibration that arrowed to her thighs, making her hiss.

His mouth descended, first on hers, stoking the fire that raged, before sliding down her throat, across her collarbones to the tattoo. He’d found her other one, a small arrow in a bow on her left hip, meant to be a positive reminder that when life holds you back, it’s about to propel you forward. She felt like that arrow, poised to fly, tense and waiting.

When his knuckles brushed her damp center, she cried out his name.

It was like he’d been waiting for it. Suddenly the condom packet was in his hand and he tore it open. He sheathed himself, fisting tightly as he looked at her spread out beneath him. He’d left her garter belt and stockings, but the panties had been lost some time ago.

“Now,” she said, pleaded.

He let go, braced his arms on either side of her. She felt the nudge of him, hard to her soft, and spasmed.

“Now.” As he said it, he drove forward.

She lost her breath. Her hands flew up, clutched at his arms. Her nails dug in as he sank in all the way.

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