Page 47 of Malcolm

The pounding of heart filled her ears the minute she felt the tip of his dick press against her entrance. Eyes rolled back as she bit her lip. Mentally begging over and over, for him to thrust into her with heartless command.

“Please?” Tears spilled from her eyes as she pleaded.

“Please,” he repeated as he bent down, and pressed his lips to the spot right above her shoulder. “Do you know how beautiful you are when you beg?”

She would beg and beg till he put her out of her misery.

“Please,” she whispered again as he softly kissed her collarbone. “I need you.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, placing a large hand on her stomach. “Once I take you, it will never end. I will take you, hard,” he thrust playfully against her ache, “long,” she released a cry of need, “and forever. I’ll even knot you, so that I can keep all my cum inside you. I’ll breed you over and over until your stomach swells. Tell me you want me to fuck you until you’re round with my child. Answer me?”

His voice turned cruel, “Tell me you’d let me rip you apart, and put you back to together again, Eliza.”

Eliza eyes popped open and the face that stared down at her was no longer her shadow lover but Phen.

With a scream Eliza nearly came off the bed, her body pulsing with both need and terror. She looked to the side of the bed where Malcolm usually slept, and he wasn’t there.

She placed a hand against her chest as she breathed heavily. Her skin was flushed and sweat-coated; she swallowed, trying to catch her bearings. She’d never experienced such a vivid dream. Her nipples were sensitive, and her collarbone still tingled from where her dream male had placed his kisses. While she still felt the bone deep chill of seeing Phen again.

“What was that?” she asked no one.

Gripping her covers, she jerked them aside, quickly got out of bed, and walked into the bathroom.

She needed to take a shower to cool herself down.

Malcolm

Malcolm's fist slammed into the face of the cheeky warlock; he shook his hand as he straightened.

“I only asked you one question,” he looked around the junkyard they’d brought him to. The Warlock’s business front was a junkyard. He’d thought he’d have little trouble, especially when the person at the gate was friendly enough to allow him to drive through.

Agun had come with him along with his friend Derrick. Regarding first impressions, he’d thought Agun had been over-exaggerating when he said they could be difficult. But the minute he’d hopped out of the truck, everything had gone left.

“You damn wolves think you run everything,” One of the Warlocks said, his staff made of dirt hitting his palm solidly. “Who do you think you are to come here and interrogate us?” He yelled before sending a boulder their way.

“Malcolm,” He heard Agun call in alarm.

He could only sigh; he’d wanted to this the easy way. His primary role in the Jackals wasn’t to be showy and catch everyone’s attention like the others. His primary purpose was to be the one everyone paid the littlest attention to. He curled his fingers till they cracked, and drawing his arm back, he made a fist. With one solid step forward, he slammed it into the boulder. The dirt ball broke apart as if it were made of mud.

With that done, he brushed the dirt from his shoulder, “I don’t know about you all, but I’m tired of playing around.” He turned to the trembling warlock, “You’re hiding something. Otherwise, you’d have thought twice about attacking me.” He growled, his canines lengthening and his eyes turning a feral yellow. He stepped forward.

“Wait—stay away,” the warlock screamed, throwing everything he could at Malcolm, who swatted away his attempts at attack. “No,” with a shriek, he turned to run, only for the back of his greaser jumpsuit to be grabbed. The man was over six feet tall and weighed a little over 200 pounds, but Malcolm picked him up like he was nothing.

Malcolm left the others to Agun and Derrick, “Now,” he said, licking his bottom lip as he glared up at the warlock, “tell me what you know about the holes in the Ani-barrier Magic on the McLaren land.” He abruptly let the male go. The warlock hit the ground hard; Malcolm crouched down and grabbed him by the throat, “And make sure you don’t lie,” he sneered, narrowing his eyes, “I can’t be blamed if I tear your throat out after it.”

The warlock shivered before he quickly nodded. “I tell you everything, anything you want to know.”

Rising, Malcolm's expression softened as his eyes turned green once more. “Good to hear.”

Eliza

She still couldn’t shake that dream a few hours later. She’d done her best to avoid the man who’d been the subject; she had offered her help to everyone who worked on the land. Now she was sitting in the kitchen peeling potatoes military style

Her hands worked mindlessly as she peeled the skin from the lumpy things, her eyes down. She tried not to think about her dream and what it meant. Funny enough, the goddess inside her head had remained suspiciously quiet since she’d asked her about it. The woman picked and chose when she opened her mouth.

Though she had to be fair, it took a lot of energy for the goddess to speak and move outside her. The woman had beenpushing herself a lot lately, which was why the book of spells was so important to her. She could strengthen the connection between Eliza and herself or break it in a way that would be safe for them.

As the goddess described, it was like they’d been slapped together, and luckily, the two of them were compatible. Otherwise, it could have been a disaster.

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