Witch's Wrath (Blood And Magick #3)(26)

Jared stared at my body, his breathing ragged, eyes burning and hungry. It was now or never. Make or break. The door was there; the way out clear. I was straddling him, now—one leg on the floor, the other bent on the couch, with Jared between my legs—but I could have gotten up and run; run home, back to Lumière where it was safe, where I would be alone.

But that meant leaving him now and forever; I wouldn’t get another chance.

Jared pulled his shirt off, and when I saw him beneath me, laid bare, desire took control of my hands and lips, which were driven to his chest as if it were magnetic. I kissed where I could, breaking only to catch whatever breaths my lungs could manage, while his hands worked at the clasp on my bra, freeing my breasts and my sensitive nipples to brush up against his bare skin.

It was clear he was full of heat and yearning, but he allowed me to take my time mapping the landscape of his abdomen with my lips and tongue until he could take it no more. He pulled me up to his chest, and in one quick movement he picked me up in his arms and carried me to his bed.

He laid me down on my back, kissed my chin, my neck, my breasts, but I flipped him over like a woman possessed and straddled him again, kissing him all over as he had done to me. When my lips reached the soft patch of hair just above his waist, my hands wasted no time working at his belt buckle and the buttons on his jeans, but he pulled me up to his mouth again before I could go any further.

My breath trembled and quaked as our lips met again, tongues dancing with one another. With quick, decisive hands, Jared reached for my underwear and slid his hand inside, searching for my wet, throbbing, center. I was an aching wreck before he touched me, and when his fingers reached the spot I so desperately wanted him to touch, I moaned loudly into his mouth.

Jared’s fingers worked in a gentle, but firm circular motion. With one hand planted on the sofa and my head buried in the crook of his shoulder, I ground my hips harder against his hand until finally, and in no time at all, I reached the pinnacle of a powerful orgasm which left me quivering and weak. But I wasn’t done with him yet.

With our combined efforts, we had all his clothes off in only a couple of seconds, and he laid me on my back on the bed. I opened myself up to allow his body to fit exactly where it needed to be, then I guided him into me, letting go of him and immediately gripping the sheets with both hands. I bit my lip to stifle the whimpering, but his name slipped through the net.

“Jared,” I moaned, as he pushed into me for the first time.

He kissed me again without saying a word, and together we moved in practiced rhythm, sighing into each other’s mouths, our hips rocking as more and more of the world fell away around us. This could be life, I thought, distantly, as my mind contemplated his offer to get up and leave New Orleans with him. We could go somewhere, anywhere, and do this every single night. A witch and a demon-blood, two powerful people, fighting for no one but each other. On no one’s side but our own.

But while that was only a fantasy, this was real. He was real. As we reached our climax together, and the real world came crashing down around us, reasserting itself more and more with every last push of his body into mine, I realized I didn’t care where we were or whose side we were fighting on, as long as we were doing it together.

And if we were going to fight, we may as well fight here. A witch and a demon-blood, outsiders to this city, abandoned by our friends, but champions all the same.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN


I woke up with a start, gasping and grasping at my throat, but fully aware that I had been dreaming. I had been sitting in a dark place, unable to see but fully aware of another presence near me. I had tried to talk to it, but the darkness had started to swell all around me, consuming me, suffocating me. It was a dream I was glad to be free from.

Around me, the room was quiet. It was afternoon, I knew, judging by the heat and the ambient sounds floating in from outside. I let my head rest on the pillow again and rubbed my eyes to wipe away the sleep, and when I opened them again, a demon’s face was within my field of vision.

“Hello, monkey witch,” the imp said, and I sucked in a deep breath of air and scrambled to sit upright, flailing as if to shake the imp off me. But the imp wasn’t sitting on my chest, he was sitting on the bed by my side. He cocked his head, his big, green eyes gleamed, and when he smiled, his mouth split to reveal a mouth full of tiny, razor-sharp teeth.

“Holy shit,” I said, exhaling. “Ho-ly shit. What are you doing in this bed?”

“This is where master sleeps,” he said. “Why is the monkey witch here?”

“The monk—I’m here because I was invited. Why are you here?”

“I lives here. This my home.”

“Your… what?”

Jared came into the bedroom, frowning. “There you are,” he said. “Sorry, Maddie—he isn’t used to guests.”

“He... huh?”

“He’s my roommate. Could you get off my bed, please?”

The pink-skinned imp sprang upright and threw himself into an enthusiastic forward roll, followed another one, until he was off the bed, landing with his hands in the air in a ta-da pose.

“He’s your roommate,” I said.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said, approaching. “Here, drink some water.”

I took the glass Jared was offering and sipped it, then placed it down on the bedside table. “But he’s an imp; don’t they live in… somewhere else?”