Page 18 of Captive Witch

“That’s not all.” I stare at him until he sits back down. “Anera told me that Wendell had help from some witch when he’d been caught with that girl of his a few years back.”

“The kid?” Frank asks.

I nod. “That’s how he got her to be interested and willing. Whatever witch he went to, Anera hasn’t been able to find out anything but her name—Nicca. Long brown hair, around thirty years old, green eyes. Keep an ear out for anything you hear about her. I know appearances and names aren’t the best information. Regardless…” I look each man in the eye, my lips set in a firm line.

They nod, and I stand, moving to the shelf and grabbing three glasses and the bottle of whiskey.

“Thank you,” I say, keeping my eyes trained on the amber liquid before me.

Frank and Brent exchange a glance before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

Glaring at them, I wait as their laughter dies down. “Finished, assholes?”

Brent lifts his glass to his lips, avoiding my gaze, while Frank wipes a gods damn tear from his eye, opening his mouth, “I’m sorry, boss. I just never thought I’d see the day a woman gave you manners.”

“Fuck you both.” I drain my whiskey, set my glass on the table, and storm from the office. Their quiet chuckles follow me all the way down the hall.

I slide the door shut behind me as I get inside, following the sway of Adara’s hips like a sailor following a siren. It took far too long for everyone to leave tonight, and my hands ache to touchher after watching her dance around in that dress all night. My fingers turn the lock behind me, and I lurch for her, gripping the soft fabric of her dress and spinning her into my chest.

“I can’t go another minute without you in my arms,” I say, smirking when silver flecks appear throughout her violet eyes. Reaching up, I gently tug the tie from her ponytail, letting her raven hair fall around her shoulders in long, thick curtains. I brush a strand from her face, my thumb grazing her lower lip. “Beautiful,” I whisper.

She sucks in a sharp breath, her pupils dilating as she drinks me in. Her hands climb from my chest to tangle in my hair, and she pulls my mouth to hers. My hand wanders down, gripping her ass and lifting her. I relish in the feel of her legs wrapped around my waist, grinding against her as I turn to press her against the wall before the stairs. I thrust my tongue into her mouth, tasting her sweetness, and swallow each moan that escapes her lips. Each moan that drives me farther toward the edge.

Grazing over her jaw, down her chest, I grip her breast in my hand and tug the strap of her dress to the side to free her nipple, taking it into my mouth. She gasps, her back arching and pressing her further into me. My cock strains against my pants, and her nails scrape against my scalp as she pulls my hair, and I dip my hand between us.

Her dress is bunched around her hips, and a snarl rips through me when my fingers touch her—bare, soaked, ready. Her nipple pops out of my mouth, and I lick up to her neck, my fingers pumping inside her.

“Fuck… no underwear, little witch?” I breathe, panting in her ear as I suck her lobe into my mouth, biting down.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly, and she nods, her eyes closed as she leans her head back against the wall.

A smirk tugs at my lips, and I lick her wetness from my fingers, closing my eyes as I growl. “Gods, you taste amazing…” My cock is throbbing, and I reach to unbutton my pants, the fabric stuck until I let my claws come out and tear it. I want to be inside her, now. Lifting her hips another inch, lining myself up, I rub my head against her clit, making her cry out.

“Gideon,” she cries, her nails clawing down my neck and to my shoulders.

I lean into her, pressing harder against her clit as I rub my cock against her soaked slit, and whisper in her ear, “Tell me what you want,mia fiamma.Be a good little witch, and use your words.”

“I…” She gasps when I push inside her, just the tip, just for a moment while my thumb circles her swollen nub. “I want you inside me. All of you.” Digging her nails into my shoulders, she pulls herself to me and kisses me, her tongue tangling with mine.

I thrust into her, unable to hold back any longer. The bond in my chest pulls taut, and images flash behind my eyes.

Adara wrapped in a flowing silver gown, her hair curled and framing her face. A night sky littered with stars shines above her.

Lying below me, her raven hair flows over the pillow case contrasting with the white of the sheets. Her eyes are clamped shut, and her mouth is open, her plump lips gasping in ecstasy.

“Gideon,” she moans, bringing me back to the moment, and I quicken my pace, thrusting in and out.

I climb higher, so close to my peak, and reach between us to press the pad of my thumb to her clit. “Come for me, little witch,” I whisper, my lips brushing her ear.

She crashes over the waves, her pussy squeezing tight around my cock, and as she screams my name, I chase after her, coming inside her so hard my vision fades at the edges and my chest aches. I stand there for a few moments until I catch my breath,then carry her upstairs. She rests her head in the crook of my neck, pressing soft kisses to my collar.

She falls asleep in my arms moments after I lay us down on the bed. The moon shines through the window at her back, lighting her outline. My finger trails along her cheek, her jaw. The shape of her lips. I lightly kiss her forehead, lingering for a moment. I want to lay here beside her, to not move from this spot and keep my arms wrapped around her for eternity—or at least until the sun peeks over the horizon.

But I need to go downstairs and continue my search for Nicca. Something hasn’t sat right with me since Anera told me about that witch, and I will find out what it is.

Slipping my arm from under Adara, I slip my sweatpants on and head downstairs to brew a pot of coffee. I don’t feel tired, but the boost of caffeine won’t hurt my focus. I grab the small notebook Frank leaves his reports in from the top of the refrigerator and sit at the island, listening to the sputtering of the coffee maker. My notes are sparse, frustratingly so, but I know there’s something in them that I’m missing.

Anera told me about the witch—her name and appearance, according to that greasy fat bastard—but she never had much else to go on outside of a hunch. The girl had sworn she’d been willing, saying she just wanted someone to take her virginity so she could get it over with. She killed herself a year later, and her parents left the state, unable to cope with the constant reminders of their daughter and her childhood surrounding them every day.

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