Page 16 of The Blood Witch

Fey glanced over her shoulder at him, smiling wickedly. “Oh yes,” she laughed. “It does.”

Alastair chuckled low in his throat, moving behind her and wrapping his arms around her midsection, burying his face in her neck. “You should make a habit of visiting me more often at work, Witchling. I miss you when I’m here. Your visits go a long way to dull the monotony.”

“Is that so?” she asked, leaning back into him. Goddess, she felt good pressed against him. He groaned, running his hands over the curves of her body.

“You got a new desk,” Fey noticed, smiling.

“I did,” Alastair answered, brushing her long red hair aside and kissing the back of her neck. “And I made sure this new one was… properly reinforced.”

Fey chuckled, and it was such a delicious sound he couldn’t help himself from licking her neck where the noise had come from.

“Alastair…” she started, a slight warning in her voice. But she’d wanted a distraction, hadn’t she? He could be distracting. He could be very,verydistracting.

He ignored the warning, licking up her neck again and earning a soft gasp from her.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered into her neck.

“You saw me just last night,” she reminded him, her voice slightly breathless. She writhed against him.

Hehadseen her last night. Had spent the entire evening in bed with her, keeping her up late into the night, worshiping her with his tongue.

“Far too long ago,” he murmured, kissing down the back of her neck.

Her answering laugh quickly turned to a moan as he bit down lightly on her throat. His hands moved further down, gripping her hips and pressing her even closer against him. He needed to feel her, every part of her.

“Jasper was flirting with me again, you know,” she teased, and Alastair’s hands paused.

“Oh?” he asked, moving to the other side of her neck, kissing and biting at the skin there. “What a naughty little puppy.” Fey smiled and relaxed back into him, enjoying the attention.

“And did you like it, Witchling?” he asked. The soft pink blush that rose to her cheeks was answer enough. Keeping one hand on her hip, he brought the other to the tie hanging loosely around his neck.

“Maybe you need reminding who you belong to, hm?” he asked in a dark voice, nipping at her ear.

Fey laughed.

“Oh, Alastair,” she said, her voice dripping with venom. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

Oh yes, that’s what he’d wanted to hear. As he pulled the tie from around his neck, he slid his fangs over the sensitive skin of her throat and was rewarded with a soft gasp.

“We’ll see about that. Hands, Witchling,” he ordered.

Fey smirked, glancing over her shoulder at him. But she complied, putting her hands before her and crossing her wrists. She stayed that way as he looped the tie around her wrists, binding them together.

“Alastair,” she warned as he tightened the knot, pulling a little harder than necessary.

“You’remine, Witchling,” he said, lips pressed to her ear, and she moaned softly, arching against him. “Don’t forget that.”

The top she wore hugged her curves tightly.So fucking perfect. He dropped her wrists, hands circling her waist and moving up her curves until he cupped her breasts, squeezing them hard enough to elicit another gasp from her.

Goddess damn him. He loved that sound. Loved that he could make her moan like that, loved how she responded to him. His fingers circled her nipple through the thin fabric of her shirt and pinched until she arched against him again.

He turned her around, so she faced him, and took her face in his hands. She was so beautiful, her eyes alight with desire for him. And just a trace of fear.

So perfect.

“On your knees, Witchling,” he commanded, stroking her cheek softly with the pad of his thumb.

Fey smiled at him, something wild and dangerous flashing in her eyes.

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