Page 57 of Savage Desire

My words hang in the air for a moment as he searches my eyes. I’m certain he’s going to deny me, but just as I think it, he presses the crown of his cock against my lips, and I open willingly for him. Slowly, he reaches the back of my throat for a split second before he retracts, and I find myself chasing after him.

Not that I needed to bother. He nudges forward again almost immediately, and I groan, humming around his length as he hisses. “That’s it, Polaris. Let me fuck that sweet mouth of yours for the first time,” he rasps, igniting my body as he does just that.

Every pass grows firmer, like he’s still restraining himself, but when I grab his thighs, bracing for him, he loses his last thread of control, slamming into my mouth with precision as he hits the back of my throat over and over again.

I feel like I’m going to explode, and he’s not even touching me where I need it most. How is that possible? My thighs press together, desperate for friction, and as his hand tightens in my hair, I groan, gagging around his cock as his movements become jagged.

Ecstasy pours through me, my taut nipples dragging against the material of my bra as tingles dance over me from head to toe in time with the rhythm of his pulsing cock as it paints my throat with his release.

He slowly pulls out, looking down at me for a moment before he sinks to his knees in front of me. His lips are against mine in the next breath, claiming me as I float. When his lips slow, I place my hand against his cheek, a soft smile glossing my lips.

“In a moment of loss, you make me see clearly,” I admit, and he grins back at me.

“You make me feel like I’ve found home.”

20

POLARIS

Dear Diary,

Or should I say ‘new’ diary?

I’m still lost and helpless over the revelations of last night.

What were they trying to gain from the words we wrote in our diaries? Diaries that we were forced to write in back at Florentines. It doesn’t make sense, but there’s a part of me, deep down, that isn’t all that surprised.

We’re linked to a blood curse that kills people, someone spying on my deepest, darkest secrets doesn’t seem that far off.

Despite the shock and overwhelming thoughts circling in my mind, I passed out the second I got back to my dorm. Like, flopped on the bed in my clothes and barely even kicked my boots off. I woke before my alarm, though. Which is fine, it gives me a few minutes to test you out.

But maybe I need to end the night with a dick in my mouth to help me sleep? Like a pacifier, but for women?

It was hot, at least. I definitely want to do that again.

What’s not hot is the fact that apparently being a center witch requires me to need a coven. I don’t want to need anything, especially not one of them, but if yesterday was a reminder of anything, that pain… damn. I don’t want to go through that again.

I need to figure it out, but that feels easier said than done because I don’t even know where to begin.

Maybe I could ask Bryony… but I haven’t seen or heard from her since Lucille fell victim to the blood kin curse.

I don’t know, but I guess I’m not going to find out just sitting here.

Polaris x

Slipping into a pair of slim-fit jeans and a loose sweater, I opt to use the backpack stuffed at the back of my armoire today. I need somewhere better for my sand and grimoire. Unfortunately, my grimoire won’t fit up my sleeve so my backpack will have to do.

I finish the look with sneakers and run my fingers through my silver hair. It’s still a little damp from the early morning shower, so I decide to toss it up on top of my head in a bun since I haven’t figured out how to use my magic to accomplish such a menial task.

Maybe that’s what my plan of action needs to be for the day; learn the inconsequential stuff. I think it may help me connect better with my magic if I’m able to use it on a more regular basis.

With my hair tie secured in place, I nod at my reflection, happy with my plan before I head out into the hallway.

It’s weird not having Bryony knock on my door this morning, and as I make my way to the end of the hall, ready to turn the tables, I realize she’s only ever come to me.

Retrieving my cell phone from the front zipper of my backpack, I tap out a quick message.

Polaris: Hey, I’m heading for breakfast. Are you around?

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