Page 47 of Forbidden Mischief
I press closer, letting my magic unfurl, wrapping around him like invisible threads, dragging him deeper into me. “You want me?” I whisper against his mouth.
He squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. “You know I do.”
“Then take me.” I drag my mouth along his jaw, my magic pulsing with every word, curling around him like a command. “No more holding back. No more running.”
His grip tightens—so tight I know I’ll feel the bruises later. “I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice is wrecked, torn apart by everything he won’t say.
“You didn’t.” I bite at his pulse, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against my lips. “I want more. I want you always.”
The energy between us spikes, a sudden rush of power that crackles in the air, making the leaves tremble, making the embers of the bonfire in the distance flare. My magic is pushing, pulling, demanding.
He makes a choked sound, like I’ve just ripped something out of him. Then, suddenly, he’s flipping us, slamming me into the tree.
My head spins. My body thrums.
His eyes burn into mine, dark and wild, pupils blown so wide his irises are just a thin ring of color. His chest heaves, like he’s barely keeping it together, like he’s standing at the edge of a cliff and I’m the only thing keeping him from falling.
“You don’t get it.” His voice is low, dangerous. “I need to hold back, Zayne.” His fingers dig into my hips, his grip searing hot against my skin. “If I don’t—” He swallows hard. “I’ll ruin you.”
I smirk, tilting my head. “What if I want to be ruined?”
The moment the words leave my mouth, my magic erupts, a slow, molten pulse that slides over both of us. Sparks dance over my skin, tiny bursts of energy crackling between my fingertips, running down my arms, wrapping around him like invisible chains.
He snaps.
His mouth crashes into mine, crushing, desperate, like he’s trying to consume me, to make sure there’s no space left between us.
I moan into it, grinding against him, feeling the solid press of his body, the heat of his skin. My magic curls around us, sinking into him, wrapping tight, binding.
He lets out a ragged breath, his hands sliding under my hoodie, skimming my stomach, his touch electric. His fingers find my ribs, trace up my chest, and when his thumbs brush my nipples, I gasp.
The energy between us explodes, sending a sharp crack through the air.
All I know is him.
His body against mine. The way he’s touching me. The way he’s taking me, finally, finally, giving in.
My magic pulses, feeding off his energy, dragging him closer, sealing him to me in a way that feels irrevocable.
And I know, without a doubt, that he’s mine, just as much as I’m his.
Forever.
I’m gonna prove it to him.
He’s mine. He didn’t break me. None of him—his strength, his bite, his knot—scared me. I want it all, again and again, until he understands there’s no such thing as too much when it comes to him.
I pull my magic deep into myself, a slow, simmering hum beneath my skin, and I focus it. I let it pool at my fingertips, apulse of energy that seeks him, that wants to claim him just as much as he’s already claimed me.
I grab his cock through his jeans, fingers closing over the thick length of him, and he groans, hips twitching into my touch like he can’t help himself.
“I want more,” I whisper, watching his reaction. “Questions that need answers. Things I wanna learn.”
“Yes,” he gasps, body already trembling against mine.
My magic curls at his neck, dark and pulsing, waiting for my command. I focus, letting it latch onto his skin, watching as it seeps in, as his breath hitches, as his hands tighten where he grips me.
He hisses, shoulders twitching.
