Page 77 of Enchanting the Elf
“You certainly do.”
Not being able to resist any longer, I tug Florence into my arms and drop the picnic basket. Her arms instinctively wrap around my neck as I slant my mouth against hers.
Florence’s lips part so sweetly for me when I suck on her bottom lip, and she whimpers at the first touch of my tongue against hers. My fingers dig into the base of her spine and I wrap her long hair around my fist so I can angle her head better.
I groan at the feel of her tongue dancing with mine, writhing, twining like they can’t get closer.
The kiss takes on a life of its own. It’s hungry yet tender, sealing promises and dreaming of futures.
Our breathing picks up and Florence’s short nails scratch at the back of my neck, anchoring me in the moment.
I need more.
But before I lose control completely and fuck her right here, I slow us down and press open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Florence whimpers again and an uncommon growl rolls up from somewhere deep in me for not satisfying my woman the way she needs it right now.
“Hold on, Liebling. Let’s get to the meadow and we can continue this.”
Florence tilts her neck, quietly indicating her need for more, and I lavish that part of her skin with attention for a little longer.
Pressing a final kiss to her lips, Florence languidly opens her eyes and stares at me with a dopey smile.
“I like kissing you.”
“I like kissing you, too,” I reply and kiss the tip of her nose.
We right our clothing, which had gone askew at some point, and set off walking again, hand in hand.
Florence looks at me with mischief written all over her face.
“Knock knock.”
Without hesitation, I say, “Who’s there?”
“Armageddon.”
“Armageddon who?”
“Armageddon in your pants real soon.”
The sentence hasn’t even fully left Florence’s mouth before we’re both laughing.
“I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this much in my life before,” I say, clutching my stomach.
“You’ve got a lot to make up for. But don’t worry, I’ll keep the jokes coming.”
“That’s not the only thing you’ll keep coming,” I joke and shake my head at my lame attempt.
Florence sputters out a laugh and I chuckle with her. I feel like I must be the fates’ favorite male for bringing Florence into my life, and I instinctively pull her a little closer to me.
Once we settle down, I focus on carrying the picnic basket with my mage hand.
With her eyes fixed on the floating basket in front of us, Florence asks, “Is this the kind of experiment you would do in your study too?”
“Yes, there are a couple of other things I’d also like to try once we get to the meadow. The day of our picnic was the strongest my magic has ever felt and I had complete control over it.”
“You can test it on me anytime,” Florence jokes but I know she means it one-hundred-percent seriously too. “Do you think there’s a specific reason for why there specifically?”
“I’m not sure. Even now, my strength is building. This basket is heavier than any of the items I could manipulate in my office.” Quirking my head to look at Florence, I continue, “At first, I assumed it was my bond with you. When you are near me, it is definitely stronger. However, that day, it was like it had doubled in strength. It was itching under my skin, almost begging to be let out.”
