Page 32 of Seduce Me in Shadow

Sweat trickles down his brow and onto my chest, as he rails me deep. Jaw set, he throws his head back and moans that he wants me the way he’s never wanted another woman.

Yes, I know he turned me down, and that he’s more interested in the contents of my stories than my knickers. But this is my fantasy.

Maybe…writing my wishes about Caden would be cathartic. If I get them out of my system, perhaps I’ll sleep peacefully and wake tomorrow with this odd obsession gone.

Flushed and tingling, I flip over the red book in my hands before cracking it open.

To hell with caution. I’ll worry later about what happens if Caden ever reads my late-night wishes. Or the unlikely chance that, with a few strokes of my pen, I could magically compel him to my bed. If such a miracle happens, I’ll deal with the damage to my heart then. Plus, I’ve earmarked this book as a potential story forOut of this Realm. If I’m considering writing about the little volume, shouldn’t I research it firsthand?

Impulsively, I grab a pen and begin to write:

Dear Magical Diary,

I have this fantasy. Mad, really. But I dream of Caden MacTavish storming my door, ordering me to strip, ravishing my body…

As the words flow from my mind onto the page, I slip into a trance. I can nearly feel Caden’s mouth caressing my nape, his fingers rolling my nipples, his erection sliding a burning path deep inside me. I can almost hear him say that he can’t resist me for another minute while he stares at me, as if I alone hold his heart.

An hour later, I let out a ragged breath as I put my pen and the book aside. Desire dampens my palms, the valley between my breasts, and the throbbing slit between my thighs. I literally ache for Caden.

Imagination is a powerful aphrodisiac that leaves me in urgent need for satisfaction. And while I want Caden to sate me, he isn’t here. Nor is he likely to suddenly appear and make my fantasy a reality, despite Aquarius’s claims.

I reach for the light, intent on dousing it so I can find my battery-operated boyfriend and some relief.

Before I kill the light, I glance at the open book. There, in script that isn’t mine, are two lines I did not write:

Sleep, dream, anticipate…

The fantasy you imagine will soon be your fate.

Chapter

Fifteen

Caden

Sunday morning comes, and though my head throbs after drowning yesterday’s memories in whiskey, I’m resigned. I have to ask someone to teleport me to London. I need to keep searching for Anka. I hate relying on magic, but I can’t waste another moment.

“You look like hell,” Bram offers from behind his massive desk.

No shit. Pervasive sweats, along with the tingles and dizziness, are now constant. My sex drive has kicked into overdrive, just for fun. How can anyone be fatigued and so bloody randy at the same time?

Magic.

Transition is coming, despite how hard I’ve prayed otherwise.

What the fuck am I going to do?

Shoving aside the implications, I wince at the obnoxiously bright sunlight streaming through the windows and glare at theDoomsday Brethren’s self-appointed leader. The wizard looks unusually disheveled and exhausted.

“You’re unlikely to win any bloody pageants, either.” I snort. Then I swallow the rest of my snark and my pride. “Look, about your sister… Sabelle is taking a huge risk to help my brother, and I’m grateful, but…”

“You’re worried about her.”

“Indeed. Helping Lucan is incredibly dangerous.”

“She’s always been too brave. I tried to warn her.” Bram sighs. “But she’s your last recourse, and you’re torn. I understand.”

“I don’t want anything tragic to befall her?—”