Wicked Magic Page 13

  He slid his hand down her stomach, between her legs and cupped her sex. His hold was possessive and firm. A claiming.

  “I love you, Sam, fuck I tried not to. But I do,” he said in a deep, husky voice and opened up his palm so he was holding her completely. When he moved his hand back and forth over her, he put pressure on her clit.

  Her mouth parted in a gasp. She fought to keep her hips still. She wanted more, wanted all of him.

  “Make love to me, Trent. Make me yours.”

  He ghosted his fingers over her body, allowing her the faintest of teasing touches. She used her legs, hooking them around his waist to pull him against her.

  Trent swooped in, their lips meeting in a tender kiss, so different from the frenzied ones at his house. Her stomach tightened. She closed her eyes and tried to feel everything at once. His tongue moved against hers, rolling and playing, and their heads adjusted in search of the perfect angle. The kiss was penetrating. When she pulled away, he followed, chasing her lips until they were both breathless.

  He stroked her sex, gathering her arousal before he pressed his finger inside. She moaned, sucking his tongue into her mouth. Trent sped up his in-out pace. As she got accustomed to the feel of him, he added another finger. His hands were big, something she’d always fantasized about. She’d never dreamed his fingers would feel as good as they did filling her. He pulled his mouth from hers and moved down her body, dragging his lips down her chest, over her stomach.

  The blanket covering them fell to the floor. Moonlight kissed her skin. Cool air charged with electricity brushed over her. He started with her foot, gentle kisses along her heel, over her ankle, while kneading her calf. Where his hands touched, his mouth followed.

  He was marking her. Erasing everything that had ever been there before him. When he was through, she’d be saturated in his scent. Marked. She’d be his and he hers.

  Slow, teasing, he moved farther up her legs. He coaxed her thighs apart to expose her pussy. As he smoothed a hand over her stomach and up to her breasts, they both watched. The possessive look in his eyes was almost her undoing. His jaw rasped against her thigh seconds before his tongue swept against her slit.

  He explored her sex with long, unpredictable strokes, somehow different from the previous time he’d done this. She smoothed her hands through his hair, massaging his scalp and holding him against her. He used alternating methods, licking and sucking, until she was bucking underneath his assault. Clamping her thighs around his shoulders, she gyrated her hips against him, seeking that last bit of friction she needed to send her over the edge.

  “Yes, Trent,” she cried out, her voice echoing through the house.

  Her body was on fire. His mouth was soft, his tongue hot and there was the faintest hint of his cheeks, rough with growing hair that scraped along her thighs. Trent pushed two fingers inside and twisted them in and out. A second orgasm built fast.

  “Oh God,” she moaned, her hips lifting from the bed.

  Trent growled, increased his tempo and some of his tenderness faded. Hard flicks pressed against her clit before he sucked the pearl into his mouth. His hungry sounds pulsed through her, gave her the nudge she needed to let go. Pleasure built and wound her stomach in a tight knot. She extended her leg and her foot scraped against the sheets. Paralyzed. The well of pressure broke. Magic exploded.

  When she came to, he was looking at her from between her legs. She could have come again from the possessive hunger in his eyes. He stalked up her body, making sure to drag himself against her. His cock was thick, the tip wet when it bumped against her sex.

  He teased her lips in a series of kisses. “Before this goes any further, what do you need for your ritual?”

  Right. “I brought most of my stuff to your house, but I’ve got some extra stuff in the closet. Candles, rosemary and ribbon.”

  He rose from the bed and crossed the room. Trent bent and retrieved the ingredients for the spell. Without having to be asked, he lit a candle and set it on the nightstand.

  “Light the rosemary too,” she said.

  The heady aroma filled the room and tickled her nostrils. Trent trailed the ribbon up her stomach as he knelt on the bed. Goose bumps rose over her skin and she sucked in a breath at the trailing wisps of magic.

  “Tie our right wrists together,” she instructed.

  His eyes darkened. He settled above her, his cock hard and hot against her wet pussy. Together they worked to tie the thin red ribbon around their right wrists, binding them together.

  He brought their joined arms to his mouth and kissed her pulse point. “Now what?” His voice was low and husky.

  She lifted her head to flick her tongue across his lower lip. “Now you make love to me. Make me yours.”

  Heat flared in his eyes, made them smoky and irresistible. He cupped the back of her head and drew in a deep breath. “Fucking hell, babe.”

  Trent claimed her mouth in a fierce kiss that was so full of passion it was hard to imagine anything being more intense than that exact moment. She was wrong. He laced his fingers with hers on their unbound side and brought both arms over her head. He looked down at her, a curling lock of hair tickling her forehead.

  “You’re mine, Sam.”

  Licking her lower lip, she wrapped her leg around his thigh, brought it up until she hooked his ass.

  “Always.”

  “Do we need a condom or are you on the Pill?” he asked.

  “Pill.”

  “Good.” He let go of her hand long enough to grip his erection. She looked down, drawn to the sight of him moving against her. He teased the tip through her slit back and forth and she tensed.

  They were really going to do this. As the anticipation mounted, she dug her nails into his back.

  When he cupped her thigh, the movement pushed her leg against his waist. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, gathering her hands once more, connecting them. In one smooth, powerful thrust he made her his. Her eyes shot open at the hot, burning sensation of being so full. She couldn’t breathe through the pain and pleasure.

  Trent swallowed her cry and stroked his tongue against hers. She arched up, into the kiss and gripped the hand he pressed to hers. Some hidden spot inside opened and potent, untapped magic surged to life. She opened her eyes and gasped at the tie binding their right wrists together. The ribbon morphed into ropes of magic that surrounded them.

  “Holy shit, is that supposed to happen?” he asked and looked around the room in awe.

  She nodded and stroked her now-free right hand down his back, a wave of dazzling magic following in its wake. A connection formed between them, from her soul to his, an imaginary line tethering them.

  Their gazes met. His eyes were dark, smoldering with desire. Curls hung in front of his eyes.

  “I love you, Trent.”

  “And I you.”

  Hands clasped, mouths fused, he pulled out and pressed deep inside, drawing a moan from her throat. Again and again, he made love to her in a sweet, slow tempo that built heat between them.

  He let go of her hands to cup her thigh and hold her close as he thrust against her. His muscles flexed. His back bowed. Every stroke touched her deep, had her crying out his name. Pleasure built—a tight sensation in the back of her womb. She scratched her fingers through the stubble at his jaw and wrapped them around the back of his neck. She lowered his head to her throat.

  “Now it’s your turn to make me yours, Trent.”

  His thrusts sped up and the slapping of their flesh resonated deep inside, adding to her pleasure. He bit her neck, holding her in place. He rolled his hips, his pace speeding to match the furious tempo of their rising heartbeats. Under the surface, she sensed his jaguar lurking. It lunged for her, needing to mark her—tried as hard as it could to be free. Magic curled out, tamed his beast with a soothing whisper and a promise of things to come.

  He gasped against her neck, and he fucked her harder, faster. Each thrust penetrated something deep in her
soul. They kissed, pulled and pushed, until she was sobbing his name into his shoulder. The breath against her neck became uneven, ragged. He thrust harder. Flesh slapped together until it was the only sound filling her ears.

  The numbing sensation started in the middle of her legs then spread out. The faster he pounded into her, the closer the paralyzing feeling became. Her mouth open and gasping for breath, he brought her into rapture.

  Before she’d even caught her breath, he rolled them. He settled his hands at her waist and lifted her, helping her straddle his thighs. She sank down on his cock and cried out. He went deeper, felt bigger. She pressed a hand against his chest and experimented with a simple up-down motion. When she tightened the muscles deep inside, his body tensed and his jaw clenched.

  Instinct took over. She threw back her head and let the power swirling in the room wash over her. The tips of her hair drew against her back, tickling her flesh with each move. Slow at first, she rose then fell. Pleasure spiked. Her pussy gripped and pulsed around his cock. As the rhythm found her, each stroke was faster. Trent was there, moving his hips up and down with every thrust. The pressure mounted, made it hard to breathe. He pressed his fingers against the spot where they were joined. The stroking on her clit forced a cry from her as her climax approached.

  They continued to move against one another, never ending, never stopping. Only feeling. Sweat trailed down her back. Trent slid his hands up, over her back and gripped her shoulders. He sat up, pulling her body tight against his, and took over.

  Hard and quick, he pressed his mouth against the side of her neck and clamped down. Teeth pierced flesh and brought her to a new height of pleasure. As hard and quick as he’d bitten her, his dominating thrusts claimed her body. His jaguar surged, wrapped its spirit around her, marking her until she saw, smelled, felt nothing but Trent—the man and the animal.

  When she came, he was there, his mouth silencing her cries. He climaxed along with her, his body jerking, muscles twitching as he came inside her. She buried her face in his neck and breathed him in.

  Mine.

  She snuggled closer, flattened her palm over his racing pulse. Everything felt different. Each beat of his heart hammered through her. That pounding rhythm would stay with her always.

  She closed her eyes. Every move felt lazy, surreal. Only after their breathing returned to normal did she lift her head from his shoulder. She pushed his hair behind his ears and felt a small smile break through.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?” His voice thick with passion.

  Her grin spread and she leaned forward to steal a slow, lingering kiss. His still-hard cock jerked inside her. He broke their kiss and skimmed his fingers over her hips, along her arms. In their wake, a trail of magic sparked her skin.

  “I think,” she trailed her finger over his arm then rose and sank back down on his shaft, “that you should show me.”

  A growl left him and he rolled them, bringing her underneath him. “Every damn day, Sam. Every day. Tomorrow we look for a house.”

  She pushed away the rising sorrow hitting her now that the pleasure was fading. There were too many memories here and at his house, things neither would forget. “I like that idea.”

  “While we’re at it, we’ll stop by the courthouse and get married.”

  She sucked in a breath and looked up at him with wide eyes. Where she’d been rubbing his arms up and down, she stilled. “Did you just ask me to marry you?”

  He shrugged and caressed the thigh she had around his waist. Inside of her, his cock pulsed.

  “It wasn’t really a question.”

  “Trent,” she chastised.

  Despite the way he rolled his eyes, he cupped her cheek and stroked her skin with his thumb. “Samantha, love of my life, will you marry me?”

  “No.”

  He stilled. “No?”

  It was her turn to shrug. She tucked her lower lip between her teeth to keep from grinning. “You never call me Samantha, it sounds all wrong. Try again.”

  “Woman,” he growled and fisted her hair. Tiny pricks of pain surfaced and had her breath coming in quicker intervals. “Sam,” he kissed her mouth, cheek, neck, “the biggest pain in my ass I’ve ever had…” He returned to her lips. “Marry me?”

  “Yeah, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

  “You little brat.” He laughed. “I’ll try all night. Give me five minutes and I’ll have you screaming the word yes.”

  He pulled out of her sex and pushed back in, drawing a moan that reverberated throughout the room.

  “Trent,” she gasped and clutched his ass.

  He brought his mouth to her neck and nuzzled. “Yeah, babe?”

  “Yes.”

  His lips parted in what felt like a smile. “Love you, darlin’.”

  He set about proving it all over again.

  About Madeline Pryce

  Madeline Pryce wrote her first novel when she was ten, penned with neon-pink ink in a loose-leaf binder. Captivated by romantic literature, yet intrigued by the paranormal, she continues to develop her own voice, writing the kinds of stories that inspired her as a teen.

  Madeline welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

  Tell Us What You Think

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  Also by Madeline Pryce

  Claiming Ecstasy

  Dark Cravings

  Dark Innocence

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing

  www.ellorascave.com

  Wicked Magic

  ISBN 9781419992001

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Wicked Magic Copyright © 2014 Madeline Pryce

  Edited by Elizabeth London

  Cover design by Kelly A. Martin

  Cover photography by Studio10Artur, Ricardo Reitmeyer, optimarc

  Electronic book publication June 2014

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  Madeline Pryce, Wicked Magic