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“What would you say if I told you I could make your deepest fantasies come true?” DaniceCarter snorted over the rim of her martini glass. “Been there, done that, and I wasn’t impressed.” The man sitting next to her at the bar frowned. “I was being serious.”

“So was I.” Danice finished off her second Cosmo and figured it was about time to call it a night. The co-worker who had been planning to meet her here for dinner had just called and said she couldn’t make it, and Danice wasn’t in the mood to eat alone.

“You don’t believe me.” The blond sitting next to her didn’t look drunk, but judging by the amount of Bushmills he had consumed in the hour since he’d arrived, he had to be. He certainly had the persistence of the truly sotted . “You don’t understand that I can do exactly what I say. You don’t understand that I can give you your deepest desires.”

“And you don’t understand that you are just not my type, sweetie.” She scooped her cell phone off the bar and stood.Time to head home to her empty apartment for some real peace and quiet. “Sorry.”

“Wait. You can’t leave. You don’t understand what I’m telling you.” He grabbed her arm. If she weren’t feeling mellow and a little sorry for the guy, he’d have taken it away minus a few fingers. Instead, she just stared pointedly at his ridiculously pale hand against her café-au- lait complexion and raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“I have powers. I can sense your fantasies and make them come true.”

“Right.Sure you can. Now, why don’t you let go of my arm before I have to tell the bartender to call the cops, okay?” She tugged on her arm, but he held firm.

“Just wait. I’ll prove it.”

She started to roll her eyes, but when they met his, they froze in place. He had green eyes the color of old-fashioned glass bottles, with an intensity that sent a shudder through her for no reason she could fathom. He really
wasn’t
her type. She’d noticed him when he walked into the bar behind her and had a silent giggle over him, because he looked like he’d just come away from a Tolkien convention. About six-feet tall, he looked skinny as a rail, with the sort of gangly height that should have made him awkward, but he carried it with unexpected grace. Still, he wore his pale blond hair nearly brushing his thighs, with the sides pulled back into two braids, exposing the surprisingly realistic prosthetics he wore to make his ears look pointy. Anyone who spent that much time pretending to be a fictional character was not the man Danice was looking for.

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When she tried to look away, she found she couldn’t. Those green eyes held hers, like they exerted some weird force. They seemed to look deeper inside her than anyone had a right to do, and she didn’t like the sensation. No one should be able to have this hold over her, unless they used magic.

She looked away and dismissed the idea with a nervous laugh, but she couldn’t help feeling like he’d been the one to break the spell, not her. After her good friends Reggie and Missy had succumbed to another side of the supernatural and ended up in love with men who shouldn’t have existed, Danice didn’t like the possibility that magic, too, might be a little too real for comfort.

“Look, it’s a flattering offer, kid, but I just don’t think it would work between us. I’ve never even read
The
Silmarillion .” She flashed him a grin and tugged hard, freeing her arm from his grasp. “Thanks for the offer.”

She turned and walked quickly toward the door, ignoring the uneasy feeling creeping between her shoulder blades. Maybe she shouldn’t have had that second drink, after all.

“Oh, you will be thanking me for a bit more than an offer, fair Danice .” His voice was mocking and soft and much too close for comfort. “And you’ll be doing it before the sun is fullrisen this morning. Best you mark my name, so the thanks might be a proper one. Know to whom you owe your gratitude, lass. And that’s to Jack Green.”

She whirled around, ready to confront the guy and threaten him with the cops, only to see him still seated on his barstool.Thirty feet away.

Her eyes widened, and she stared for one long minute, knowing that in the new version of her reality—where her friends married vampires and werewolves, and had other shapeshifters over for dinner—a lot more things were possible than she’d ever thought before. Maybe this guy was magical, but either way, Danice had no interest in finding out what he meant. In this instance, retreat was the best part of valor.

Stomach knotted but chin high, she spun back around and pushed herself out the door. It was definitely time to head home where she could pretend none of this had ever happened, and where the closest she got to magic was flipping past the latest “Magic Secrets Revealed” special on TV.

He slipped into her dreams like a wraith, but his body felt warm and substantial against her skin. He curled around her, a firm, living blanket pressed against her back, his large frame making her feel tiny and protected as he wrapped his thick arms around her and snuggled her closer.

Danicesighed and stretched a little, arching her back to press her behind against the erection that prodded her. That felt hot and a good bit more than substantial. Her sleep-fogged brain tried to latch
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onto something about the moment that seemed off, but he distracted her with a soft, rousing kiss, placed just behind her ear where the skin was fragrant and sensitive.“ Mmm.” He matched her murmur with a low rumble that sounded an awful lot like a purr. His tongue flicked over the curve of her jaw, traced its way up to the lobe of her ear and teased for a moment before his teeth closed delicately over the plump flesh. He nibbled, and her murmur became a moan.

The arm around her waist tightened in a brief hug before his hand slipped over bare skin to close around a sleep-soft breast. It firmed against his palm, the nipple drawing into a tight bead and taunting his cupped fingers. They closed around the small nub, squeezing gently, tugging in time to the nibbling at her ear. His other arm shifted, and she felt the scrape of a callused hand over her hip and belly before long, lean fingers cupped possessively over her mound.

She sighed, the sound shivering through the darkness. Sleep still cradled her, drowsy and secure, but the sensation of her lover’s touch turned the lazy feeling into a sort of spell, holding her in place, making her unwilling to pull away. She’d much rather get closer. Shifting, she tried to turn over in his arms to face him. His hands tightened to hold her in place, and she frowned.

He shushed her murmur of protest, nipping lightly at the curve of her shoulder. His large hand kneaded her breast, taking her mind off his refusal to allow her to change position. Then the hand between her legs slid down and took her mind off of everything else. Strong, lean fingers combed through the small patch of curls and dipped, parting her folds and burying themselves in her wet heat.

Instinct arched her hips toward his touch. Her clit burned and ached with need, but he avoided it. Two fingers eased her lips apart, finding her opening and rimming it with delicate pressure. A gasp escaped her lips, and she squirmed against him. His cock pressed hard and hot against her buttocks, and she canted them so the shaft rode the crevice between. She reached up behind her to pull him closer, her fingers tangling in a mass of silky soft hair, surprisingly long and wonderfully thick. He resisted her attempts to guide him, making a soft tisking sound against her ear. His hand lifted from her breast, and he laced their fingers together, holding them together as he shifted, rolling to his back and pulling her over on top of him.

The blankets slid away, cool air caressing her erect nipples, chilling her fevered pussy when he insinuated his legs between hers and forced her thighs to spread wide around his. She lay atop him, fully open to his touch, feeling the shift and play of his chest cradling her back. He purred again, the sound rumbling in her ear as he nuzzled it and planted kisses in the sensitive hollow beneath.

“Sweet,” hewhispered, his breath another caress. The hand between her legs shifted, two fingertips pressing against her opening, sliding easily within. “Soft.” She gasped and arched, trying to draw him deeper inside her. “Hard.” His mouth curved against her skin, and his fingers thrust suddenly harder inside her. Danice cried out.

Her pussy clenched around the sudden invasion, the ripple of internal muscles making her shudder. She shuddered even more when his fingers twisted, screwing deeper, scraping delicately against inner walls.

“Hmm, like that?”

His voice was a dark rumble that made her shiver above him. Or maybe that was his fingers.“Just like that.”

He chuckled, and his fingers pulled away. Her hips followed him, greedy for his touch. He gave it back with three fingers, stretching and filling her until her breath caught in her throat. “How about like this?”
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She could only gasp.

He withdrew, thrust again, establishing a slow, driving rhythm. As in driving Danice right over the edge.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, and she braced her heels against the mattress to get more leverage. She couldn’t decide if she should use it to press closer, or to get away. He untangled his fingers from hers and shifted his free hand to close again around her breast, thumb flicking over the distended nipple, and that pretty much decided things for her.

“Please.” Her voice was a moan, a plea, a subtle threat.

He chuckled again, but his fingers drove deep into her wet cunt, and his thumb rubbed tight circles around her clit. “Please, what?”

“Don’t…give me that…shit,” she growled, yanking hard on his hair. “You know what I want. Just fuck me.”

She felt his hands still. For a moment, she wondered if he intended to leave her. His hand slid from between her legs, and she cried out, but he just shifted his grip to her sides. He lifted her enough to position himself,then brought her hips down, easing her closer as he pressed slowly and relentlessly inside.

She froze.

Breathhalting on a ragged sigh, she stilled every muscle she could to savor the moment of his first penetration. She felt the burning stretch as he eased past her tight entrance, the endless, breathless parting as he tunneled deeper. Time stopped while he made a place for himself inside her, and it didn’t move forward until he hilted, every last inch of his cock gripped snug in her moist heat.

And, oh, but there were a lot of inches.

Her head tipped back against his shoulder, and her eyes flew open in the darkness. The lack of light blinded her, but she didn’t need to see when she could feel so damned well.

“This then,” he said, voice growling against her ear. “This is what you wanted.Me, inside you.”

“ Yesssss.”

“Then you should give me something I want in return.” Her teeth clenched against the rush of sensation as he guided her hips up off his shaft, then back down to receive his return thrust. “What do you want?”

His fingers tightened, hard enough to leave bruises against her caramel skin. “I want you to scream for me.”

He punctuated the demand with a jerk that forced her harder against him and butted the head of his cock against her womb. She didn’t scream, but she moaned, and he seemed to take it as a challenge.

Over and over, he lifted her as easily as a rag doll, forcing her to ride his cock as he pounded his hips up against her ass. Helplessly, she let him, their position preventing her from taking any sort of control over
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their primitive mating. All she could do was clench her fingers in his hair and moan, tightening her inner muscles around him on every thrust, milking his cock with her cunt. But those contractions affected more than her lover. They shuddered through her womb, making her hotter and wetter so that he glided inside her as if he’d been born to be there. She quivered and arched, her free hand closing around her own breast, kneading the flesh and pinching hard around her aching nipple. The rough sensation barely fazed her. It felt like a tickle compared to the driving, digging rhythm between her thighs.

“Not good enough.” His voice sounded rougher this time. Control was abandoning him, as well. His breath panted, and he, too, sounded as if he spoke through clenched teeth. The thought made her smile smugly.

“I said…”

His hands shifted, one sliding lower to get a firmer grip on her hip, the other reclaiming its place between her legs.

“…I want you…”

Shemoaned, the sound high and sharp, almost like a squeal as he spread her folds and found the plump flesh of her clit. She was swollen with arousal and sensitive to the slightest brush of air, let alone the brush of his fingers.