Page 3 of Twisted Magic

“Never. I won’t—” She lost the words as his demanding lips closed over hers, fastening on with all the passionate energy that simmered through him. That brooding anger, and the very real fear she’d glimpsed in him as he’d regarded that missive like it might be a venomous serpent poised at his throat, transformed into greedy desire she was delighted to sate. Selly couldn’t claim that she’d deliberately refocused his pent-up emotions into sex, but that’s how it had worked out and she couldn’t be happier. The care and feeding of wizards was how Nic referred to this sort of thing, and Selly could see her sister-in-law’s point. It wasn’t strictly a Familiar’s duty to redirect the monumental powers their wizards wielded into avenues where they wouldn’t cause collateral damage.

But it was decidedly a privilege of the job.

Still gripping her hair, Jadren plundered her mouth with barely restrained violence, and Selly opened to him gladly. He tended to be careful of her still, always worried about her health—physical, mental, and emotional, she’d been that much of a mess—and treating her with solicitous care. She appreciated his concern for her and frankly reveled in all the small ways he showed his love for her, especially since he never said as much, not in so many words, instead coating himself with a thick layer of sarcasm. But she’d also had a bellyful of being treated as fragile. Ever since she’d lost her mind to stagnant magic, everyone danced around her as if she were a rabid kitten. Delicate enough to require careful handling; dangerous enough to infect the unwary.

Only when Jadren lost himself in the fulminating desire between them did he forget to monitor his every touch. Murmuring encouragement and defiance in equal measures, Selly fought to remove Jadren’s soaked clothing. He still wore his fighting leathers every day, all in black, along with weapons and the various metal implements he transformed into gadgets with his El-Adrel magic. He stood out amid the pastel-robed healers’ community like a bloodied sword thrust though a bouquet of wistful blossoms.

He already had her robe open—the loose-fitting garments were comfortable and Selly did her part to blend in with the community, not only to make up for Jadren’s determined and distanced enmity—leaving her mostly naked. One of the many advantages of the robes was their easy removal. Jadren’s clever fingers raked down the center of her body, brushing the inner curves of her breasts with teasing lightness, before his hand settled low on her belly. Closing her eyes in sensual anticipation, she arched into the rough caress, releasing a gasp and shuddering for real, parting her thighs for him.

He didn’t move. She squirmed invitingly. He laughed, low and ever so slightly cruel.

“Oh, no, my delectable familiar. Surely you didn’t imagine I would satisfy you so quickly and easily.”

She cracked her eyes open, finding him looming close, wizard-black gaze glittering. “Please?” she asked hopefully.

“That doesn’t sound like an apology at all.”

She attempted to look remorseful, something she didn’t at all feel, especially given her current most-rewarding circumstances. “I’m sorry, Jadren.”

His intent gaze drilling into hers, he shook his head slowly. “Not even close, liar.”

Heaving out a sigh, she wriggled, her taut, wet nipples chafing against his sodden leathers. His hand settled more heavily to hold her in place. “How can I apologize when I wasn’t in the wrong?” she asked plaintively.

“Aha.” He chuckled softly, tugging inexorably on her hair to tip her head back, then nibbling along her jaw. “That, at least, is honest. You can apologize for disobeying me.”

She groaned, both at what his lips and teeth were doing to her and at his irritating words. “I don’t have to obey you,” she ground out.

“In point of fact, you do. It was part of the wizard–familiar bonding ceremony.” He slid a leather-clad thigh between hers, just enough to tantalize, not enough to give her any friction where she needed it most.

She tried to think back to that ceremony, not easy with his teasing clouding her mind on top of her confused memories of that day. Their entire sojourn within the confines of House El-Adrel had the flavor of a protracted dream, complete with the occasional nightmare. Generations of El-Adrel wizards tinkering away at their proprietary area of magic had turned the entire, sprawling manse into a giant enchanted artifact that seemed to possess its own level of sentience. Being forced to bond with Jadren to save their lives had been only one bizarre experience in a gamut of them.

She did remember the words of the vow, however: Take my power with the severing of my hair, wizard, so that I may be bound to you while you live. The magical gong that had reverberated through her, sealing the bond, echoed still. The living bond between them tingled with it, energized by their erotic embrace. “I know I never promised to obey,” she protested.

“It’s implied,” he insisted, his hand traveling slowly up her ribcage to cup her breast, squeezing lightly so she whimpered. “You’re mine, Seliah. I gave you a chance to be free and you are the one who came after me. It’s far too late to protest your bondage now.”

She stared fiercely up at the darkening sky, disappearing beyond the firelit ring of the terrace. “Because you’re mine, too.”

“Oh, yes,” he agreed, sounding wry and rueful. “Duly captured, but not tamed.” He moved down her throat, rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger. “Apologize.”

“It would be a lie.” Despite the game, despite it all, she didn’t like being untruthful with him. “I won’t lie to you.”

He lifted his head, eyes stark black pools in his pale face, hair sleek from the water. “Fair enough. Then begging for my forgiveness will suffice.”

“What should I ask you to forgive me for?”

“For being so fucking beautiful.”

“I’m not, though, I—” She gasped as he pinched her nipple, sending an exquisite bolt of pleasure-pain through her. “Jadren.”

“Arguing with me is counterproductive to the point of this enterprise,” he said smoothly, holding her in place, face set in a ruthless expression that shouldn’t be so arousing, but was. “I’m setting the terms of the apology. Do you yield?”

Did she yield? Her pride wanted to say no, but her body was all yes. She dug her fingers into his leather-clad shoulders, wanting to rake him with the claws she wished she possessed. “This is unfair,” she snarled, writhing between the twin pins of his grip on her hair and nipple.

He smiled, a thin slice of cruel desire. “I never promised to be fair, sweetheart. In fact, quite the opposite, as I believe I warned you numerous times. You wanted me anyway.”

Oh, she had and still did. Always would. Her sex ached for him, desperate for his touch. “I apologize,” she breathed, caught and held by that raptor-sharp gaze.

“I couldn’t hear you.” His smile widened at her groan of dismay, his thigh nudging high enough to brush her swollen nether lips.

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