Page 60 of The Wicked

“Do you want to use it?”

And have him stop? Have this dark journey of discovery end? “No.”

A hand came to my throat, but he didn’t apply any pressure, just held me against him, my back to his front, while he circled my clit maddeningly slowly with those magic fingers of his. I clenched around him, and this time, the groan was his.

“You’re everything I hoped,” he whispered.

Before I could process that, he lowered me back to the bed so I was on all fours, and he began to move in short, measured thrusts, all the time working me with his fingers. Who said men couldn’t multitask? My legs began to tremble, and my breath came in short gulps as those first little tendrils of an orgasm wrapped around me. I gave myself over to him. Let him do whatever he wanted because I knew I’d want it too. When that heady bliss finally rocketed through me, Garrett held me up with an arm around my waist, and that was the only thing that kept me from collapsing into a sweaty heap when he pulsed into me a moment later.

“Holy freaking hell,” I murmured, mostly to myself.

“My sentiments exactly.”

Garrett withdrew smoothly, and with one soft kiss to my cheek, he morphed into his usual sweet self. Gone was the Prince of Darkness. Charming was back.

“Am I allowed to think about other things now? Because what the heck was that?”

Rather than answering, he fluffed the pillows and settled me against them, then retrieved the quilt from the floor and tucked that around me as well. I got an excellent view of his ass as he walked to the bathroom, and the toilet flushed a moment later.

“Are you hungry?” he asked when he reappeared. “Thirsty?”

“Thirsty.”

“What do you want to drink?”

“Anything but alcohol.”

He returned with a glass of orange juice and another of those dangerous forehead kisses, totally unashamed of his nakedness as he studied me. Not that he had a thing to be ashamed of. He was so beautiful I had to pinch myself. No, really.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Just checking you’re real.”

“In that case, shouldn’t you be pinching me?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d appreciate that.”

The bed dipped as he settled onto the edge and took my hand. “I’m very real.”

I took a sip of juice and tried to gather my scattered thoughts. “You didn’t answer my question. What was that?”

“That… That was a little more of myself than I’d intended to show you tonight.”

“Oh.”

“I need to know how you’re feeling.”

How could I tell him when I didn’t even know myself? “Mixed up?” Dirty, slightly guilty that I liked it, sated in a melting-into-the-mattress way, scared that I’d never get to experience Charming’s magic again. Scared that I would. “Is it always like that?”

“Do you want it to be?”

Did I? What happened, it had been so intense. So incredibly, deliciously wrong that for one blessed evening, everything was right in my world. When I’d walked away from the men of my past, all I’d felt was relief. If I had to walk away from Charming, my soul would be wrenched from my body.

Slowly, I nodded. “Yes, I do.”

He let out a breath I hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.” His grip on my hand tightened. “I’ve never wanted any woman the way I want you.”

Was he serious? Or did he say that to every woman he bedded? “Is that just a line?”

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