Page 75 of Charmed

She stared at him and delicately swallowed. The longer the seconds ticked, the more hollow his stomach became. A tiny wrinkle formed between her brows as regret shone in her eyes.

Fine. Wasn’t as if he hadn’t known this was coming. He was such an idiot. Strange how her rejection hurt three times worse than anything his uncle had tried to inflict. Throat tight, eyes burning, he pivoted toward the door.

“You’re the first thought when I wake and the last one as I fall asleep.”

He froze, the breath backing up in his lungs at her quiet declaration. Hope, the fickle bitch, rose inside him.

Slowly, he looked at her, and about died where he stood. Down, down, down were her walls and sheer vulnerability was etched into her every feature.

“Uh, well…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I asked for it, didn’t I? You’re really good at the honesty thing when you try. I’m kinda at a loss.”

She reached for the side zipper on her yellow slip dress. “I’d like to show you something.”

He dropped his gaze to her fingers holding the tab and tried not to swallow his tongue. “I’ve already seen you in all your glory. Not that you shouldn’t proceed.”

A wisp of a smile curved her lips. “It’s called sharing magick. A witch can do it when there’s a connection with her lover. It’s like bonding, of sorts.”

Her dress hit the floor. His jaw followed.

“You can do anything you want, babe.” She’d had him by the shorthairs from the onset months ago. Before he’d ever kissed her, touched her, or dreamed this day would come. His gaze skimmed over her curves, the peaches and cream skin, and he ached to be inside her. “I’m yours.”

“You have to be open to the experience or it won’t work. You have to trust me.”

“There’s almost no one I trust more than you.” He snapped his eyes to hers. “I meant it the first time and I mean it now. I trust you.”

Nodding, she stepped closer. She eased his shirt over his head while his heart rate careened out of control. By the time she had his briefs and jeans discarded, his skin was hotter than the sun’s surface.

She rose on her toes and grazed her lips against his, backing them to the bed. They fell with her on top and her cocoa locks a curtain enclosing them. She took the kiss deeper, dragging him under her spell for the umpteenth time.

“Have you ever done this before? Shared your magick?” He had zero clue what the process entailed, but if it continued on the current path, he was all for it.

“No.” She took him inside her, her fingers feather-light across his shoulders to contradict her tight sheath. She expelled a ragged breath and met his gaze. “It won’t hurt.”

He held her jaw, his ticking. “I trust you,” he repeated. With everything in him, he handed himself to her—mind, heart, soul.

She rocked her hips, closing her eyes, and tilted her head back. He gripped her waist, but it didn’t help as an anchor. His blood churned and his chest heated and his muscles vibrated. For as long as he lived, he’d never tire of this, of her. He watched her, amazed by her beauty and captivated by her body.

Suddenly, her brows wrenched and she moved faster over him. He was about to lose it when she grew taut, spasming around him. He followed in the wake, bones locking and her name on his lips.

But the release kept going, not easing, and bliss became an ecstasy from which he’d never return. Currents zinged on an ungrounded path and stole his oxygen. What replaced it was something that bore no name and could only be described as pure light. Power infused his cells, radiated, infiltrated. He felt her in every atom of his body like she’d climbed inside him or they’d merged as one.

Quaking, he pried his eyes open. She was glowing. So was he. Literally glowing. Mystified, he gawked in wonder at the yellowish-white radiance surrounding them.

She collapsed on top of him, winded, and hummed a sexy satisfied noise. Her warm pants caressed his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her trembling body.

Again, his eyes burned while emotion rose up to choke him. Whatever she’d done, however she’d manipulated the moment, didn’t compute as tangible logic. It was as if his brain had disconnected and his heart took the reins instead, resonating sentiment so deep, so thoroughly, he was no longer flesh and bone.

“How do you feel?”

How did he feel? How did he feel? Like he’d incinerate to ash if she failed to exist. Like his every breath was to inflate her lungs, each beat of his heart to pump hers. Like the very definition of love was a meager vocabulary passage based on the story of them as an example for the ages.

He slammed his eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners. All he could manage was to clear his throat.

She smiled against his chest and made a sound of agreement, even though he hadn’t spoken. “Me, too.”

Exhaustion pulled him under as their afterglow faded and, for once, utter contentment filled him. With the late day sun bathing them and her atmospheric scent in his nose, he drifted off holding her.

The next thing he knew, twilight peeked through the balcony doors and his arms were empty. His tattoo throbbed, sending his pulse into manic mode.

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