Page 17 of Carnal Magic
The claw trailed higher. Traced the crease of my inner thigh. Danced over my pubic bone. Ever so delicately, he dug the sharp tip in just a bit harder across my lower stomach. Making me think about how easily he could eviscerate me with that brutal claw. Yet he didn’t even break the skin.
My heart fluttered like a live, frantic bird in the cage of my ribs. Another sound tore out of my mouth, making me bite my lip, trying to contain another moan. A wordless plea that he understood fully.
Because he began to incrementally tighten his fingers around my throat.
I dragged in a shallow breath, fighting for more air. Tugged on his wrist, a futile attempt to break his grip on my neck. His claws dug into my flesh. I felt the moment they pierced my skin. The sharp prick, a slight sting against the burning in my lungs and the growing fire in my groin. I could smell my own blood. I knew what that meant. What it would do to him.
What it would do to me.
His head rolled side to side, horns tearing at the stone. A rough growl rattled through him. His nostrils flared, his teeth glistening like jagged glass.
He closed his palm over my pussy. Nothing more. No claws digging into me. No penetration. Just the heavy, powerful warmth of his large hand and the threat of all that entailed. My back arched. My breath stilled. My heart froze a moment, and then exploded into a desperate flurry that made my eyes roll back in my head. Every muscle in my body clenched down hard, spasming in the deepest, most earth-shattering orgasm I had ever had in my life.
“At last, shecomes.”
12
Gasping, I jerked upright in bed, clawing at my throat, batting at… at…
Nothing. No one was there. I was alone in Martha’s bedroom.
Drenched in sweat, every muscle quivering and shaking. And yes, the deep, rhythmic pulse in my pussy as the aftershocks of a brutal climax rocked through me.
Oh fuck. I couldn’t believe. I didn’t—
I swallowed, or rather tried to swallow. My throat was so raw that I winced. I reached up to check my neck, and my fingers came away with blood.
Blood.
I stared at my fingertips a solid minute, waiting for my brain to make sense of it all. My pajamas were gone. Not off in the bed or lost in the blankets. Because the super cozy blankets were gone too. I sat stark naked in the middle of the mattress without a blanket or pillow in sight.
Nothing was on the floor. I hadn’t knocked the pillows off in a sleep-crazed dream or kicked off the blankets because I was too hot. Unless they were under the bed? Which wouldn’t have been possible while I was asleep.
My heart pounded so hard that I started to get a headache running up the back of my skull. My stomach pitched in a queasy roll. I scrambled off the bed and raced for the bathroom, leaning over the toilet. I retched, my throat on fire, but nothing came up. Tears dripped down my cheeks.
What did you do? What the fuck were you thinking?
My first instinct was to grab my keys and race for my car, naked or not. I had to get out of here. I’d get as far away from Redwine Mountain andhimas possible. But my knees trembled so badly I couldn’t even stand.
Shaking, I leaned down over the sink, bracing my forearms on the vanity. Though that left me staring at my reflection in the mirror.
I couldn’t avoid looking at myself. I couldn’t hide.
Ghostly face. Bloodshot eyes, staring a little too widely. Trembling lips, chattering teeth. Shock. I needed to get warm, but I couldn’t muster the strength to stand upright, let alone go find something to wrap around me.
I turned my head, lifting my chin to see the marks on my throat. Red fingerprints. Five puncture marks with jagged scratches. Not deep—but visible and stinging fiercely. I’d have bruises in a few hours. My pale skin marked easily. I’d have evidence of what had happened.
It wasn’t a dream. Or rather,onlya dream. I certainly hadn’t done that kind of damage to myself in my sleep.
I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, but my reflexes were numbed by shock. I’d barely started to push upright when something dropped around my back. Thick, fluffy, and warm. The robe had just appeared from nothing. It hadn’t been hanging on a hook. I’d never seen it before.
I wanted to shrug it off my shoulders and jump away, letting the robe fall to the floor. But it was so warm, and I was still shaking so hard that my teeth ached. I gathered the robe around me, hugging myself tightly. More tears spilled from my eyes.
“What am I going to do?” I whispered softly.
Martha’s silver-haired figure gleamed in the mirror beside me. “Oh, baby girl. Come here. I’m so sorry.”
She hugged me, and I could have sworn I felt the weight of her arms around me. I even smelled the lingering scent of roses and soft baby powder. She called me baby girl, the same as Mama.
