Page 90 of Seducing Hope (The Hope Legacy)

At this, he struggles for the right words for a moment. “You raised an entire pool… then threw it at him. The air you felt was a mini tornado, with you in the calm center.”

“Wait. There was a second attacker, they tried grabbing me. Did you catch them?”

“That was me.”

I cringe. “Oh.”

“It will teach me not to grab you from behind. It was instinctive. You were protecting yourself in a dangerous situation.”

“What about the pain?” I ask in barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud will invite it back.

“I believe you experienced an overload. How were you feeling before your swim?”

“Like I was going to explode with energy… Power was buzzing across my skin. I thought wearing myself out swimming might get rid of it.”

He goes silent. I push back up from his chest, and he schools his features carefully.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, panicking.

“Your powers are coming too fast for your body to handle. Has Duncan talked to you about being an elemental witch?”

“Yes, he said most witches have an affinity for two elements at most. So I have air and water.”

He nods. “Is this the first time your affinity for water has shown itself?” I stiffen. “Natia, don’t lie to me. This is important. You were infected with a substance we know very little about. I want to know if the extent of your power is linked to that.”

Scratching my eyebrow, I try to find the right words. “Hmm… in the cave on the island, there was a ritual to retrieve the Jar requiring the four elements.”

“Makes sense,” he mutters.

“How does it make sense?”

“Never mind, continue.”

I huff. As usual, he wants to take information but not give it. “I summoned air and water—that was the first time for water. I was practicing earlier in the evening but could hardly manage anything. I don’t understand how to control it.”

He squeezes his arms around me. “I can help you manage them until you have full control.”

“Okay.”

He blinks. “Okay? No fight? No ‘I can do this without you?’”

“No fight. I need to get control before I really hurt someone.”

My fingers trace the intricate patterns of the tattoos covering part of his chest and shoulder. He saved me once again, protected me while I was vulnerable, and dragged me back from a darkness I don’t understand. I glance up at him, his gold eyes swirling with a barely restrained desire. Unable to stop myself, I follow my fingers with my lips and place soft kisses on his chest, which rumbles as a low growl escapes him. Feeling empowered, I straddle him and run my hands over each toned muscle, as he flexes under my touch. I continue to kiss his collarbone, nipping lightly. He doesn’t move, keeping his hands on the bed. Ending my exploration at his jaw, I draw back, as his molten gaze studies my face.

“What are you doing?” he murmurs.

His jaw tics as I place feather-soft kisses on his eyelids and cheeks.

“Keeping you on your knees,” I say in a husky voice. He groans as I caress his mouth with my tongue, licking along his bottom lip. He parts his lips, and I use my tongue to seductively stroke his. His hands twitch, making me wonder how far I can push him before he snaps. Leaning back, I peel my bikini top off my body and let it fall to the floor. His hungry gaze drops to my naked breasts.

My hands caress my own breasts and draw my nipples into tight peaks. Moaning softly, I close my eyes as the sensation tightens my core, and heat pools between my legs. Hot breath dances over my nipples, making me snap my eyes open to find Archan blowing on them. The rules of the game are clear; he won’t touch me—unless I give him permission.

Taking the plunge over a cliff I might not survive, I arch my back, pushing my breasts forward. The second my flesh touches his mouth, he flips me onto my back and presses his weight against me. I moan at the contact. He kisses me brutally, stealing my breath. I wrap my legs around his waist and start to wiggle his sweats down with my feet.

Fabric rips, and his fingers slip through my slick folds to rub slow circles around my clit. His mouth catches my moan, as I lift my hips, wanting more. He slides two thick fingers inside my wetness and curls them, and my breath hitches as he hits a gloriously sensitive spot.

“Gods, you’re so hot and wet for me,” he mutters against my mouth. When he doesn’t move, I lift my hips and work myself on him. The friction builds, winding me tighter. He leaves my mouth and trails a hot path down my stomach. Wrapping a hand around my thigh, he clamps down, halting my movements.

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