Page 104 of Which Witch Is Wicked?
From men, abless your heart, and a pat a little left or right of her arm, grazing her boob. From women, the stony-eyed stare of outright dislike. “Then why do you insist on contradicting me at every turn?” Nick asked, his grip on her wrists tightening.
“Because I know you, Nicholas Kingswood.” Moira leaned to the side of his face, his yet unshaven jaw brushing against her cheek as she whispered close to his ear. “I’ve tasted you. Remember?”
Shecertainly did. The heat of their mouths fused in the pouring rain, the ocean’s tides coming in waves like their pleasure, her hand slick on his cock, convulsing around his fingers to the scent of salt air and sex. Her first—and to date—only orgasm. A fact that had surprised Nick almost as much as the tsunami-sized wall of water she had coaxed to launch him to the far side of the Puget Sound seconds after.
“Yes.” His voice had lowered by several registers. The jugular vein on his throat rose and fell in time with the erratic throbbing of his heart. Moira kept her lips at his ear.
“You’re a man who’s used to getting whatever he wants. But you ain’t gonna get it from me, Nick. No sir. I’m fixin’ to give you what youneed.”
2
Nick Kingswood’s blood burned hot beneath his chilled skin. At least he’d managed to rinse off the reek of smoke and brimstone still clinging to him after Satan’s latest soirée before his shower had gone polar. He hadn’t been particularly enthused to see Ambrosia’s Brews and Charms go up in flames, as it belonged to him despite the protracted legal battle waged by Aerin de Moray, Moira’s bun-wearing bitch of a sister.
Nick did not surrender his possessions lightly.
A tendency he applied to the water witch bound to his bed. The more she picked and poked at him with those made-for-sin lips, the more he wanted to shove something between them to silence her. Several options suggested themselves simultaneously, and an ache settled at the root of his cock.
Even with his hulking form dripping over her, Moira did not flinch. Didn’t attempt to widen the distance he’d narrowed. Not she.
“What Ineed?” Nick repeated the word with a good measure more sarcasm than it had been spoken to him. “What I needisn’t in your hillbilly head. It’s in your skirt.”
Moira raised her head from the pillow until her lips actually brushed his before whispering between them, “Fuck off,Conquest.”
Nick clanged the manacles against the broad wooden headboard flanked by massive oak bedposts carved into replicas of theColumn of Trajanin Rome, a battle he still harbored a lingering fondness for.
The spark of fear he waited for in her fathomless aqua eyes did not appear. Instead, he found pleasure there. Her pleasure at twisting him this way and that. Knowledge of her power to wring anger from him with a few carefully chosen words.
With effort greater than required to marshal the Imperial Roman Army, Nick arranged his features into a mask of vulnerability. Dark eyes widening, chest deflating, his very best down-turned, half-hurt frown.
“At least admit you want me as much as I want you,” Nick pleaded. Moira’s face shimmered into an impressionistic painting through the scrim of tears welling up in his own eyes.Damn. He was better at this sensitive male shit than he remembered.
For a split second, the water witch’s gaze grew luminous, and if she’d had a free arm, Nick was positive she would have reached out to place it on his shoulder.
“Sure I want you,” she said gently. “To get the hell out of here and see about fixing me some breakfast. Grits if you’ve got ‘em. And I wouldn’t turn my nose up if some butter and cheese hitched a ride as well.”
Nick dropped the act and allowed a more natural, wolfish grin to occupy his face. “You may be a great healer, Moira, but you’re a shitty liar.”
He released her wrist and yanked up her skirt to expose her panties. Even from her vantage, she could see the dark moisture blooming on the light blue fabric. Nick traced the patch with a lazy finger, fighting the sudden rush of adrenaline. The edges of his vision rimmed red and the capacity for conscious thought retreated under the surge of sweet, drugging power. He waswinning. Controlling the reactions of her body to his presence.
At that moment, he would have gutted a million men just to allow himself the pleasure of tearing the silky scrap from her and planting his cock in her velvet depths like a flag of possession.
No. Not yet.To do so would only be half a victory. She had not yet relinquished her will. She had not yetsurrendered.
His eyes fell closed as he battled for higher brain function.
“For a water witch, you don’t seem to have much control over the moisture between your legs.” He let his damp fingers trail down the sloping muscle of her outer thigh. Nick liked this about his water witch—liked the way he could see how the hauling of nets heavy with fish had shaped her. Hardened her.
And now she hardened him. Painfully so.
Moira squeezed against her chains, fruitlessly trying to bring her thighs together, fighting the bonds as much as the traitorous body Nick felt boiling beneath his touch. Her stomach shuddered as he skimmed the edge of her panties, teasing the elastic with a finger. Lifting it, dipping beneath it, venturing upward to circle the bellybutton exposed by her short tank top.
“And these,” he said, fingers brushing over the hardening buds of her nipples. He settled over her like a great, lazy cat, allowing his naked abdominals the bliss of contact with her bare midriff. “Might as well be a billboard.” He pinched one lightly between thumb and forefinger and quickly brought his mouth to it, sucking her through the fabric while letting his teeth gently test it through the cotton fragrant with her wild scent.
Her hips arched off the bed, and Conquest could no longer refrain from sliding his hand under her skirt, pushing her soaking panties to the side.
“Water witch indeed.” He explored her at his leisure, letting his finger stray just shy of her aching bud until she was twisting, writhing, squirming…but not begging.
“Tell me you want me,” he ordered, thumb hovering, ready to grant her entrance into the abyss.
