Page 36 of Elora and the Crow

His big hands gripped her hips, and she moaned when she felt his hardness brush against her sensitive pussy. She ground against him, seeking some relief from the sudden and intense ache radiating from her pelvis.

His hips thrust up, and his hands slid to her ass, cupping her cheeks while she dry-humped him like a horny teenage girl. She tried to push his leather jacket off his shoulders, she really wanted to see him naked again, and Jonah made a low sound of regret before pushing her back gently.

“Stop, little witch,” he rasped.

She stared blankly at him before mortification rushed in and blew away her lust. “Oh my God. Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

She slid off his lap and onto her feet, backing away from him as Jonah stood from the sofa. Grimacing, he rearranged the bulge at his crotch, and she looked away as fresh embarrassment washed over her.

“I am so sorry,” she repeated. “I shouldn’t have… have done that when you’re not… when you don’t want me in the same way and I -”

“Don’t want you in the same way?” He blinked at her. “I’m sorry, did you black out while we were making out?”

“What?”

He pointed to his crotch, where his erection was still painfully evident. “You see this, right? What part of this screams I don’t want you, little witch?”

“You… earlier, when we kissed, you said it was a mistake,” she said.

“Because it was, and so was this,” he said, “but it doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”

He stared at her, his dark eyes fierce with need and longing. “You have no idea how badly I want to be buried in your perfect pussy, little witch. How many times I’ve thought about how you would sound, how you would look when impaled on my dick.”

“Jonah,” she whispered as her lust roared back to life.

He looked away, regret colouring his words. “But it would be a mistake, and we both know it.”

He raked his hand through his hair before taking a deep breath. “I have to go, Elora.”

“Just wait. One second, please.” She hurried to the overflowing bookshelf and grabbed a bronze box from the second shelf. She opened it and rifled through the contents, her hands still pulsing with blue light. She found the pendant under two concert ticket stubs and a potion recipe for clearing acne and snagged it out of the box, yanking the chain free impatiently when it stuck on the box’s latch.

“Here, I want you to wear this.” She brought the pendant over, and Jonah studied it.

“It’s made of iron,” she said. “It’ll be a bit of protection against the fae. Iron burns them.”

“I know. Why do you have this?” he asked.

“Helen agreed to help a southern fae a few years ago. The fae came to our apartment, and Helen made me wear it. She’s never trusted the fae.”

“Why did she help one of them?” Jonah asked.

“I don’t know. Helen wouldn’t tell me why or what she did for them,” Elora said. “Please, will you wear it?”

“It’ll just fall off if I shift to an animal,” Jonah said.

“Please,” Elora said, that bright edge of panic nibbling at her edges again. “For me?”

His face softened, and he nodded. Elora slipped it over his head, tucking it underneath his shirt before pressing her hand against it. She was tempted to try to get in a protection spell before Jonah broke their connection, but as if he sensed it, he stepped back.

“I have to go, little witch.”

She followed him to the door. “Text me the minute you have Caleb and you’re away from the fae, okay? Promise me, Jonah.”

“I promise,” he said.

His gaze fell to her mouth, and for one heart-stopping moment, she thought he might kiss her again. Instead, he opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He grinned and winked at her, “Talk to you soon, Elora.”

He walked away without looking back, and she shut the door, leaning heavily against it as that bright panic wormed deeper into her body. She had such a bad feeling about this.

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