Page 126 of Which Witch Is Wicked?
And at every turn, she had thwarted him.
Moira had pulled him down, down to pleasures deeper and more incendiary than the volcanic lava erupting from the Earth’s core into the ocean’s darkest fissures.
Surprise was an irksome, inconvenient emotion Nick thought he had long ago done away with. Tonight, Moira had taught him differently.
With her, there would be no satiation. He could fuck her for a thousand years and it would never be enough. He had no idea how long they’d been here. Had lost count of how many times they’d come in synchronization. Her ability to replenish fluids and his bottomless appetite left them endlessly devouring each other again and again.
Witch or no, she occupied a human body, did not have the benefit of the immortal strength and stamina that had won him many a battle. And yet this water witch proved equally insatiable. This he hadn’t counted on. This he hadn’t planned for.
For as long as she had lived, she had used her body to heal those in need, never taking for herself the pleasure he had derived from his every encounter. Now, with the prospect of her life coming to an end, she was not only taking from him all she had ever missed, but also all she might yet have enjoyed.
Sitting astride him, her head thrown back and her breasts swaying in time with the bucking and rolling of her hips, Moira fucked him like a woman desperate to compress a lifetime of pleasure into one heated night.
Damned if Nick didn’t want to give it to her.
But he knew things she did not. Knew that the Devil had set her sights on Moira’s soul. Knew their time was short, and if he was to help her without making her a meat sacrifice to Satan, he had to stop.
Theyhad to stop.
Before the consequences of their rapture included the world’s end.
Just once more.
Gods be damned, but he needed to feel her come for him, around him,just once more. He needed to render in his long memory the rapturous pleasure on her beautiful face, a look of bliss and contentment that hehad put there.
He rolled her over onto her back, taking in the pink flush from her breasts to her cheeks, the sweat-dampened hair forming Botticelliesque curls around her face. He looked at the lips he’d swollen with kisses, the reddening patches marking her body like a map of where he’d been. Her aquamarine eyes had darkened with carnal knowledge he alone had imparted. Her face slackened by pleasure—pleasure she had finally taken for herself.
She had not needed to speak the words. Her body had surrendered to him again and again.
Fierce pride swelled in his heart…and cock.
He fit the backs of her knees into the crooks of his elbows and planted them back by her shoulders. From this vantage he could reach her mouth and breasts while fucking her at an angle that would have them visiting constellations in short order.
Moira’s lazy smile loosened into an open-mouthed gasp of pleasure—a sound Nick found more heavenly than any angelic choir. The friction building between them was a close second and about as near to heaven as he was likely to get.
Her nails scored his back, working all the way down to his buttocks, which she grabbed, pulling him toward her at an even more rapid pace. Surprise number two.
Number three arrived seconds after in the form of a directive given in that honeyed drawl.
“Don’t you hold back, Nicholas Kingswood.” She rose from the pillow and nipped his earlobe. “Not this time.”
He drove into her hard, almost losing himself within her when she folded forward to bite the swell of his trapezius muscle to muffle her moan. Tasting the sweat of his neck. Clinging to him, arms binding him to her with a power no incantation could hope to match.
“Take me,” she whispered, coupling the demand with a sharp tug of the fingers threaded through his hair. “Take everything I have left.” Never in his life had Nickolas Kingswood been given an order.
Never in his life had he wanted to obey.
Until now.
And with that, the last fraying thread of his carefully-guarded control broke altogether.
Vicious need took him then, and her with it. He fucked her with the mindless abandon of the animal his title implied. TheHorseman.Conquest.The blood, and battle, and speed, and brutality all unleashed upon the body of this water witch, his sworn enemy, bringer of the End of Days.
All hers to command.
“Nick,” she panted. “Oh, Nick, please. Harder.”
Harderhe could do. He held fast to her hips, his cock the weapon of her choosing, giving her the thousand deaths she’d wished for since she recognized her capacity for destruction.
