The Coven (Coven of Bones, #1)(65)

“Do what exactly, Witchling? What was your plan for me?” he asked, shaking me by that grip on my throat.

I opened my eyes just enough to peer up at his blazing eyes of steel, at the storm that raged within him.

“I was going to Unmake you. All of you,” I admitted, my bottom lip trembling.

Gray released my throat, rising to his knees as he straddled my waist. Something in his face reminded me of devastation, and if he’d been capable of feeling such a thing, I might have believed it.

“But you didn’t want to,” he said, his voice a quiet murmur.

I couldn’t decide if his rage still existed, if it lingered beneath the surface, or if he’d entered that place of disbelief where even rage couldn’t touch us.

“I wouldn’t have hesitated with any of the others,” I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. Getting rid of them was a means to an end, a way to free the Coven from the deal it had made and the Vessels that trapped us within it. “But you…”

“You expect me to believe that?” he scoffed, staring down at me as if he saw me for the first time. “You’ve been after my cock since you got here. Did you think I was hiding the bones there?”

I pushed up onto my elbows, staring up at him and shaking my head. “That’s not—it might have started that way, but it wasn’t. Fuck.” I groaned, dragging my hands over my face.

“You can’t even say it, can you?” he asked, placing his hand on the bed beside my head. He leaned over me, curling his fingers into the neckline of the t-shirt I wore. “You’re in love with me, Willow Hecate. Say it.”

The name I’d never been allowed to use struck a chord within me, the rightness of it simmering in my blood.

“I hate you,” I snarled instead of giving him the answer he wanted. His blood made him more able to feel my feelings, but he was wrong.

He had to be wrong.

His resounding growl thrummed through me, bringing my body to life as his mouth crashed down onto mine. It was a clash of lips and tongue, of teeth and violence, as he devoured my mouth as if it were the blood he needed to survive. My lip cut on his fangs, providing him with that very sustenance a moment later.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he muttered against my mouth. “I’ll help you find the bones, but I expect something in return.”

His other hand went to the collar of the shirt, and he tore it down the center as cold air kissed my flesh. I gasped when he pressed his nude form and all his skin against mine, reaching between us to unknot the towel wrapped around his waist and shove it out of the way.

I groaned the moment his cock touched me, sliding against me and dragging a moan from him too.

“Fuck, you’re already wet. At least your greedy little cunt is ready to admit it wants me.”

He drew back slowly, the glide of him over my flesh making everything inside of me tense.

“Gray,” I said. I couldn’t find the words to make him stop without embarrassing myself.

The head of him notched against my entrance, and he shoved forward in a harsh, swift drive that tore me in two. I curled forward, touching my forehead to his as my hips tried to recoil. White hot pain spread through me, drawing a strangled whimper from me as Gray froze.

He pulled his head away from mine, staring down into my pained face as his realization dawned. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

Because that would have been a fun conversation. My father thought I’d have a better chance of seducing you if I was a virgin.

Okay.

“It’s fine,” I said through a strangled breath, lowering myself back to the bed and trying to ignore the way my body clenched around him—trying to shove him out. “Just give me a minute to—”

He pulled out. The sudden emptiness of my body came as a shock. He grasped a thigh in each hand, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh as he spread them wide and stared down at the space between my legs. I studied him, the reverence on his face as he watched me.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, sliding himself down the bed until his face was centered just above my pussy. He sprawled on his stomach, his beautiful face staring up at me as he touched his tongue to my center and dragged it through my flesh.

He groaned into me, the vibration of that sound making a wave of pleasure spread through me.

“Do you know what happens to a witch in the Coven on her sixteenth birthday?” he asked, his eyes drifting closed as he slid his tongue into my entrance and fucked me with it.

Finding any traces of the blood from losing my virginity.

“No,” I said, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t like it. I had a feeling my father had either unknowingly or willingly set me up for something that would be more dangerous than I realized.

“There is magic in blood and sex, some of the most potent that exists. On their sixteenth birthday, a female witch is forced to choose a partner to give herself to. A witch wouldn’t dare risk her first time being with a Vessel,” he said, dragging another slow, torturous swipe of his tongue through me.

I froze as he crawled up my body, prowling over me. He slid into me in one smooth movement, taking his time and moving slowly as he reclaimed the space that he’d made his own. He pulled back slowly when he met resistance, working the rest of his length into me bit by bit.

“Why not?” I asked, sliding my hands around to his back.