Page 57 of Which Witch is Willing?
“I am yours,” she said breathlessly, pleasure stalking her like a great dark cat, ready to drag her spinning over the cliff.”
“And you are mine,” he answered, each word punctuated with an upward thrust of his hips.
Those words vibrated through her, and she felt him. Felt him in her heart, her bones, her soul. They were one, and there was no end to her, no beginning to him. Pleasure like bolts of silk, unfurling, expanding, from the place where they joined.
She was lost. Blind with endless bliss.
She felt him join her their, headless of the animalistic roar that tore from his throat.
Somewhere in that vast nowhere of, she felt something else.
Small but bright, with the secret promise of a seed.
Life, within her.
* * *
Moira wokethe following morning with sunlight rivering across her eyelids, spent candles hardened into wax puddles dotting the room all around them.
She stretched languidly, her muscles deliciously exhausted by the night’s exertions.
Peeling back the silky sheets, she rose, walking nude over to the antique full-length mirror.
And screamed.
There, where her wallpaper-flat abdominals had once lived, was a round, bulging belly.
A basket ball.
A beach ball.
A goddamn planet.
Nick shot up out of bed.
“What? What is it?”
Moira had meant to say look, but what came out instead was another inarticulate scream as she gestured at her belly.
Nick came up behind her, his hands tightened into wedges, which he brought down to the precise angle of her hipbones as he said one word.
“Boom!”
Just then, the door flew open, three sisters and three horsemen piling in, filling the room like an old fashioned bedding ceremony.
Moira snatched her discarded tank top from the back of her vanity chair, clapping it to her lady bits as her arm covered her swollen and tender breasts.
Nick, on the other hand, stood there with his hands on his hips and his business swinging in the breeze.
Tierra, a colorful paisley dressing gown knotted over her own distended middle, took one look at Moira and gasped, her hands rising to her mouth. “Oh. My. Hell.”
Bane scowled.
Claire grinned.
Aerin gagged.
Dru, shirtless and clad only in rumpled athletic shorts, looked from Moira’s belly to Nick and back again. “For fuck’s sake. Did you squirt a whole baby out of your dick?”
