Page 35 of His Whispered Witch

He took a deep breath and stared into her eyes as he did what he’d wanted to do since the first time he met her and ran his hands over her spiky hair. It was so much softer than he ever could have imagined, and she closed her eyes with a blissful look as he petted her.

There could never be anything better than this.

He needed her to know that. “There will never be anything better than this.”

Her eyes flew open. “I can think of something.”

He swallowed, unsure if he would survive more, but unable to stop if his life depended on it. She snaked a hand around his back and pulled.

He let her draw him down to her and kissed her harder.

Suddenly, he didn’t care at all if she was a fated mate, or if they were meant to be together, or even if he would stay sane for another day. None of it mattered when he had her in his arms.

9

Is he?Penelope asked herself.Is he safe? Is he in control? Is this going to be the thing that pushes him over the edge?

Was he being serious about the witches he grew up with, who could join magics even though they shared no blood? He said witches and wolves together were stronger than anything in the world. Had his auntreallyput up a system of wards herself?

The idea was insane. In her coven, even with thirteen witches pulling maximum power, they could barely keep the smallest circle around their land, but some woman had done it alone? That was what a wolf had brought her?

The other question that occurred to her was:Am I? Am I crazy? In denial? Using him?

This couldn’t be a forever thing, could it? That was impossible. For one, she would definitely lose her home again. She couldn’t stay in Silver Spring with a werewolf. They’d have to flee. To where?

Could she live a life on the run? Because it wouldn’t just be the Griffin coven. Her own family would never speak to her again. Not that they did now...

Why was she even contemplating this? She’d met him a week ago and kissed him five minutes ago. Okay, by now it was probably ten. Neither of them seemed to be in any hurry to get to the main event.

Because this wassogood.

She could feel the weight of his focus on every move of their lips. She’d never kissed a man who paid this close attention to her, who was just happy to be kissing her. She had a feeling that if she walked away now, he’d be nothing but happy.

Was she contemplating doing this? With a werewolf?

Ninety-five percent of her body was raring to go, completely on board with the idea, even as five percent of her brain screamed at the top of its lungs that she had gone off the deep end a while ago.

As soon as she learned what he was in her office, she should have run screaming from the room and let the twins deal with him. Instead, she’d heard him out, come to his land, and come to his land again—even when she found a snake in there and he lost control and shifted.

Now she was here again. She thought she’d come to help him with an impersonal job to get a snake and a wolf to live together with a human.

Instead, she jumped his bones.

What was she thinking?

She was thinking that nothing had ever felt this good in her life.

She was thinking about the asshole they wanted her to marry, a man twice her age with a permanent perspiration mustache beading on his lip, and how he reached out without her permission to run his hand through her hair and tell her how much he liked it. He’d asked her no questions. He didn’t give a shit about her, just about having her.

And her hair.

She’d gone home, shaved her head, and run.

Now, feeling Asher’s hands on the short stubble was doing things to her skin that she didn’t think she’d ever recover from. He touched her with reverence and care, as if every inch of her was a gift he’d never be able to stop touching.

She never wanted him to stop. Things were rarely this simple or this good, and she was ruining it, wondering what it meant and when it would be over. She decided to stop panicking about it.

His hands moved from her head to massage her neck, and she felt the deep muscles in her spine relax even as goosebumps raced over her skin. He rolled to her side, his hands skating to the hem of her shirt as he whispered, “Off?”

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