Page 67 of The Witch's Spell
My pleasure-sleepy brain has a hard time understanding him. “About what?”
There’s a different expression on his face now. I’m not sure what it means, but it looks... almost pained. Or confused. With a soft look in his eyes, he reaches for a strand of hair that has found its way across my cheek and tucks it behind my ear. “About you.”
I capture his hand before he can retract it and press a kiss to his palm. Then I suck his thumb into my mouth, run mytongue over the soft pad of his finger. His dick hardens inside me, and a vein along the side of his neck throbs. I give him a little smile and whisper, “For now, you can finish in me.”
The vein along his neck throbs again, along with his dick. His jaw muscles flex beneath his skin. Then he steals his hand back from my mouth, braces his palms on my thighs, and drives himself into me so hard I cry out.
Heat spills out of him and into me. In the hearth behind him, the fire roars, but he doesn’t even seem to notice it. His cock pulses inside me, and he grunts with every release, his face tipped to the ceiling, where some of Niamh’s plants creep along the wood like curious eavesdroppers, seeming drawn to us by his magic. I don’t care. Even if these walls could talk, could tell Niamh what we’ve done, I wouldn’t mind. If he makes love to me like that, he can take me anywhere.
After draining his last drop, Thorne leans over me and presses a tired kiss to my lips. My hands find his face, hold him close. And I think it surprises us both when a tear streaks down my cheek before dripping onto the cushion beneath my head.
“Aurora...” He pulls away, thumb finding the moisture lingering on my cheek. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Shaking my head, I say with a breathy laugh, “No, you didn’t. Not that I don’t enjoy a little bit of pain too.”
His brows rise. “Then what is it?”
Thorne slips his dick out of me, and it’s soaking wet, both from him and from me. The couch is wide enough that he’s able to ease onto the cushions behind me and pull me into his chest, so his naked skin ispressed to my back.
“Aurora?” His breath tickles the nape of my neck.
How do I tell him that I’m afraid he’s going to leave? That we’re going to clear the fog and then he’s going to disappear back into Fairyland forever? He’s told me how much he enjoys traveling, how it’s not uncommon for him to be gone for weeks at a time. I can’t ask him to give that up for me. I’m just a pregnant witch with three other men crammed into a tiny cottage. Why would he give up traveling the realms just to stay withme?
Maybe this is normal for him. Maybe he finds a new woman every place he travels and makes her gasp his name into the dark, only to leave the next day, gone with a whisper of wind and one last glance with his crystal-quartz eyes, vanishing like spring into summer.
Another tear streaks down my cheek, but I wipe it away before it can drip onto his arm. I don’t want to talk about this right now, or maybe ever. For now, I just want to enjoy the candles burning in this dimly lit room with Thorne’s arm wrapped around me, his heart beating against my back.
“I’m okay,” I whisper. “Just tired now. Will you sleep with me? Even for a short while?”
Behind me, his body softens, and he tugs me a bit closer so that he can rest his chin in the space between my shoulder and neck. “Of course. For as long as you like.”
Chapter 32
Thorne
AURORA IS QUIET ON THE walk back to the cottage. The snow is falling harder now, and her nose is pink in the cold. When I try to start conversation, she attempts to carry it on, but it inevitably drifts into silence.
I keep thinking about the tear on her cheek, the sudden quiet in the warm back room of the apothecary after we made love. But what I don’t understand iswhy. Does she regret it? Part of me thinks so. But, then, why pull me in, why kiss me like that and whisper my name like it was one of her magic spells?
The cold is making my knee and hip ache more than usual, and my pace is slow. But Aurora doesn’t rush me, even as snowflakes cover her hair and cause her to tug up her hood against the falling sheets of white. Together, we walk quietly through the snowflakes, and I just wish I knew what’s on her mind.
But that’s one power I don’t possess.
THAT NIGHT, OVER STEAMING CUPS of tea and a plate full of sugar cookies, Aurora tells the others of our plan. We’re all seated in the parlor, a fire crackling in the hearth. When we got back to the cottage earlier in the day, Aurora set right to work on brewing a new pain potion for me. It’s not as potent as the one the apothecaries back home make, but it still works wonders on my aching joints—and the warm fire sure doesn’t hurt either.
I’m seated on the floor, Harrison in my lap. His eyes are closed, and he rumbles with a purr as I stroke a hand down his back. In my other I hold a cup of tea, and I sip from it slowly as Aurora explains.
“I don’t know,” Faolan says. He’s seated on the floor in front of the couch, leaning back against it with his broad arms crossed. His long straight hair falls over his shoulders, shining in the firelight. “Sounds—”
“Itsounds,” Rowan cuts in, “like something we can’t understand. But Thorne and Aurora have magic. If they think this’ll work, I trust them.”
“Me too,” Alden says. He’s rocking in the rocking chair, dark eyes looking sleepy as he stares into the flames. “Besides, it couldn’t hurt, so why not?”
Faolan huffs out an irritated breath. “Fine. But I don’t want you getting your hopes up.” His eyes find Aurora when he says this, but for some reason, her gaze flicks to me.
“I won’t . . .” she whispers.
I’m not convinced.
