Mathilda, SuperWitch (Mathilda's Book of Shadows #1)(101)
Aidan went on, “And Fidel lived to subjugate millions.”
That sounded better.
Kinda.
I still didn’t want to be Fidel.
I decided to change the subject. “Are you going to cut me some slack?”
He kissed me again, I melted again. His kiss grew deeper, I melted more. Things carried on, got a bit out-of-control and I must admit, we kinda slid, head first, into second base.
Then he disengaged, rearranged my clothes, kissed my nose and said (clearly convinced by my reaction which I must admit was a little wanton, can’t keep my head on straight when making out with man I adore even if he is probably about to throw me to the wolves), “I’ll cut you some slack. But you should remember three things.”
I didn’t want to remember three things.
Still, I said, “Yeah?”
“One, I’m watching you.”
Ack.
“Two, Wilding’s watching you.”
Yikes.
“And three, we’ll do anything to save you, even if it’s from yourself.”
Great.
* * * * *
Scary, sad and miserable run-in with potential-father-of-children/life sacrifice/shifty, boy-I-can-pick-‘em, “Boyfriend” Number Two:
* * * * *
Last night, Aidan redeemed his Curzon voucher.
We went to the movies and he didn’t eat the icky, sweet popcorn but instead we shared a bag of Galaxy chocolate Minstrels which I chased with a Diet Coke (of course).
He dropped me at The Gables, backed me against the front door and laid a really good one on me.
Mm.
I was wandering dreamily up the steps to the Tower Room, a long night of browsing through some black magic books (I’d looked everywhere else…) when I felt the chill run up my spine and I looked behind me.
It was Ash, stalking me up the stairs.
Holy crap.
I’d forgotten I was caught in their war.
And I’d forgotten Ash’s promise.
Clearly he’d seen Aidan drop me off after our date and the episode at the door.
Ack!
I didn’t say anything, just backed away slowly going up the stairs backward with one arm out to ward him off.
My shoulders slammed into the heavy wooden door at the top.
“Ash…” I whispered and there he was.
He didn’t utter a word, hardly made a sound. I don’t even know how he got there but, within moments, I was lifted up, pressed against the door by his hard torso, both of my legs straddling his hips, one of his hands on my ass, his other hand up my shirt, the cup of my bra pushed aside, his fingers at my breast doing things to my nipple that caused my hoo-hah to woo hoo! and his mouth, there is no other word for it, devouring mine.
I had one hand in his hair, the other yanking the shirt out of his jeans and I have to admit I was moaning and whimpering (just a bit).
(Okay, a lot.)
Holy Sexual Prowess Batman!
Everything flew out of my head.
Agatha Darling herself could have opened the door behind us and I would have said, “Just a sec,” shut it again and carried on with Ash.
All I could focus on was him, his mouth, his body, his h*ps (oh me), his fingers (oh my) and how it all felt.
Then I said it, (or moaned it, against his lips, no less), “Please, Ash,” all hungry, wanting, semi-begging, my nails digging into the sleek skin of his back under his shirt.
He growled into my mouth.
I felt that in my hoo-hah too.
I dropped my head, nibbled his neck then kissed him there, worried that I’d hurt him then I licked him…
Oh, you get the picture!
I’m a slut.
I admit it.
At that point, I didn’t care.
Who knows how I would have humiliated myself if it had gone on one second longer.
But then his fingers stopped, righted my bra and his hand slid down and around my waist. I lifted my head and he just held me, his forehead against mine, his breathing heavy.
“This can’t go on much longer,” he growled in a tone that scared the bejeezus out of me.
He was right, it couldn’t.
“This happens again, you’re mine,” he declared.
Holy crap.
My stomach plummeted.
In a good way and in a bad way.
Yikes!
He lowered me to the ground but I held on to his biceps. I wasn’t recovered yet.
“Ash,” I whispered.
He made another rumbly growl and kissed me again, laid a big, huge, deep one on me, just when I thought it was over.
“Quiet,” he muttered when he was done, resting his chin on top of my head and there we stood for the longest time.
Then finally he let me go and backed down a step, hooked his fist in my waistband and pulled me forward until I was eye-to-eye with him.
“I don’t know what you’re up to but I don’t like it,” he decreed (again growling).
Great.
He was getting all threatening again and there I was, standing there panting.
He kept growling (and being threatening). “If you carry on and I figure out what you’re doing and it’s the mess I think it is then I’m putting a stop to it and taking matters into my own hands.”
“Why are you always threatening me?” I asked, losing my sexy, making out with Ash vibe. “It isn’t necessary to threaten me. I think I’ve made it clear I’m quite capable of taking care of myself,” I reminded him.