9781618851307WitchsBrewShayNC (37 page)

BOOK: 9781618851307WitchsBrewShayNC
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He’d
never titillated a witch into complete readiness before the season fully
reached its peak. It was still over a week before Beltane reached its zenith,
yet, with a kiss and a few thrusts of his hips, her body had shot full speed
ahead. Inviting. Welcoming. Fertile. By the gods, he could smell the ripeness
of her womb. She wasn’t infected with the virus.

He
shuddered, knowing she was ready to breed, and wanton in her invitation to take
him.

She
was so damned responsive. So explosive, touching her was like handling TNT. He
had to mate with her soon, not only to satisfy her needs, but to ensure every
waken
knew she was his.

She
arched against him, rubbing against the hard length throbbing behind his
zipper, then panted, wild and desperate for completion.

The
uncontrolled, frenetic sound of Saylym’s whimper jerked Talon back to his
senses. In another second, he knew he’d have her stripped and slamming inside
her. His cock throbbed with the urgent need to be inside her hot channel. No
shallow fucking. He wanted to be buried to the hilt inside her silken glove.

Groaning, he eased back, giving them both the space they
needed to gain control. Saylym cried out, trying to pull him back against her.
Talon nibbled at her bottom lip, drawing the pouty fullness into his mouth then
slowly releasing it.

She
shuddered, resting her head against his chest.

“Easy,
sweetheart,” he whispered, lifting her chin with his fingertip. “I hurt, too.”
Gently, he rubbed his thumb against her mouth. “I’d rather kiss you, Saylym
Winslow,” he breathed, “than turn you into something nasty.”

A strangled laugh escaped her. Hectic color stained her
cheekbones and her breathing sounded ragged. She cleared her throat. “That’s a
relief.”

“Will you bond with me, Saylym?”

“What?
Bond? What does that mean?”

“Bond. Belong to me for the rest of your life and mine.
Will you give me your heart for safekeeping as I will give you mine?”

Saylym swallowed hard. “I don’t know. Things are so
complicated. We hardly know each other.” She searched his eyes. “I…don’t know
what to say. And…you said you couldn’t be involved with a half-breed. I’m not
good enough for you.”

“It’s
a risk,” he agreed. “But I’ll get past it, somehow.”

Angry color suffused her face. “You know what? You can go
straight to hell. How can you kiss me like I’m the best thing since peanut
butter, then act like I’m a charity case? Don’t do me any favors!”

His fingers tightened on her shoulders. “I don’t know what
peanut butter is, sweetheart, but if it tastes like you, then it’s wonderful.
Look, it’s complicated because I’m royalty but never,
never
have I
thought of you as a charity case. I want you, Saylym. So, I’m asking you again.
Will you bond with me?”

“I
have to think about it. I need time.”

“Time
is the one thing we don’t have. You will give me your answer tomorrow.
Understand
, La-Scheme,”
he said huskily. “I’m asking you as a courtesy,
but make no mistake, you are mine. We
will
finish what we just started
or else other
wakens
will pick up your mating scent. We
will
have
a public bonding ceremony with a high priestess joining our lives together.
Don’t think to deny me. I
will
have you.”

“Don’t
think you can order me around just because you have some cockamamie idea you’re
a prince!”

“Cockamamie?
Did you just give my cock a name?”

Saylym
snorted. “No. I think that’s something only males do.”

Talon lips twitched. A becoming flush stained her cheeks.
He wanted to eat her up, to feast on her until he was engorged on her
sweetness. One day soon he’d smash through her defenses, claim her, take her,
and own her.

Damn
straight, he was going to dominate her—in every sense of the word. She would
never doubt she belonged to him.

“My
mating
scent?” Saylym picked up the thread of their conversation. “Half
the time I have no idea what you’re talking about. No, I won’t bond with you or
mate with you or whatever the hell your term is for having sex. I want you to
leave. Go!”

Looping his hands together behind her back, he drew her
closer. “The word sex works just fine.” He grinned. “I’ve wanted to make you
mine since the first moment I saw you. I’m not leaving, Saylym. You need me
here, darling, more than you know. You better get used to having me around.”

Talon saw the glint of anger in her eyes at that, but he
didn’t have time to dwell on her sensitive nature or worry about her
displeasure with him or candy-coating his words. They were running out of time.
He had to bond with her or the choice would be taken from both of them.

He
hadn’t thought she’d had one, but he was beginning to realize his soft, gentle,
bit-of-fluff witch, possessed a temper.
“Anzus Gevo,”
he whispered, and
rubbed his mouth against hers. It worked as a way of distracting her from her
fit of pique.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” she said as
he released her mouth.

He
grinned. “Did it work?”

“Maybe.
What did you say?”

He
hesitated, then whispered hoarsely, “Divine gift. You’re my divine gift.”

She gave a strangled moan as her blouse drifted apart
beneath his questing fingers. He cupped her breasts, gently kneading, circling
his thumbs in a delicious spiral over her taut nipples. “Say you’ll bond with
me,” he whispered, stroking her breasts through the white silk of her bra.

Slowly,
he dipped his head and suckled her through the thin lace of her bra. Leaning
back, he blew lightly on the damp material. Her nipple tightened. “Say it,
Saylym,” he commanded, before drawing the other nipple deep inside his mouth.

She
squirmed restlessly against him.

“Say
it,” he ordered. “Say you’ll bond with me.”

She
shook her head in refusal. “No. I won’t say it.”

His
fingers slipped beneath her skirt, edged the silken thong to one side and
slipped deep inside her. His thumb teased the little nubbin into a hard spike.
She wiggled against his hand as he stroked her to the point of orgasm, then
slowly, slowly, eased back, teasing her with the shallowness of his finger,
leaving her wanting, leaving her whimpering for more, desperate for his penetration,
desperate for him to bring her to completion.

“Say
it,” he whispered against her ear. “Say you will bond with me.”

She
shook her head wildly, refusing to obey his command. He locked her wrists over
her head with one hand and dipped his fingers deeper, teasing the sensitized
inner muscles, brushing against the nub until she screamed with need. She rode
his fingers, bucking and squirming as he set a smooth rhythm.

“Say it,” he said hoarsely. “Say it, or I’ll leave you on
the brink of orgasm, unsatisfied and hungry. Say it!” He pushed deeper, teasing
and tormenting the tender, sensitized flesh of her velvety channel. “Say it!”

“I’ll bond with you,” she agreed in a strained voice, a
whimper escaping her as he stroked his fingers roughly in and out, finally
giving her what she needed. Talon moaned, strangling with urgent need of his
own as she shuddered. He knew he would not find release this time.

Talon kissed her, taking her mouth with long, deep strokes
of his tongue in time to the rhythm of his stroking fingers until he sent her
careening over the edge. “Gods,” he whispered, when he at last stopped kissing
her. “You’re killing me.”

“It was my choice and not because you seduced me,” she
said breathlessly.

He drew back. His chest heaved. With hands that weren’t
quite steady, he pulled the edges of her blouse together and slowly buttoned
it. “I don’t give a damn whose choice it was. If I have to finger-fuck you all
day to make you consent, I will. You agreed to bond with me and we
will
Handfast,
as soon as I can make the arrangements.

Saylym searched his face as he rested his forehead against
hers. “I want you for real.” He pressed her hands against his aching cock.
“Don’t think I don’t need you, too. I do.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You cheated,” she accused.

“Yes, I did.” Talon arched a brow, not the least
repentant. “You have to bond with me, darling. Put me out of my misery. I need
you so much. I don’t want to take you here, against a cold, wet wall. And if I
keep kissing you, if I touch you intimately again, I will. Your scent is damned
alluring. It compels me, as strong as any spell you could ever chant.”

He saw her frown, obviously still unsure of his feelings
and intentions, but he knew he could not take any more just now. He stepped
away from her. “Is there a basement or cellar here? Maybe there’s a valve
system somewhere below the building.”

Saylym blinked at the change of subject, and took a minute
to respond to his question. “Yes. There’s a cellar below. It’s spooky. I
stopped at the third step and came back up the day I purchased this shop.”

“That
has to be where the shut-off valves are.” Talon looked around. “Where’s the
door?”

“Through
my office, back here.”

They
stepped through a pair of beaded curtains and into Saylym’s cramped office.

“There’s no lighting down there, except for torches,”
Saylym informed him as she pawed through the drawers in her desk.

“Torches?”
Talon questioned.

“Strange, huh?”

“Yeah.
Very strange.”

Saylym pointed at the door on the far wall to her left.
“Through that door.” She found the lighter and handed it to him. “I used that
to light a torch.”

Talon took the lighter, grinning, then opened the door to
gaping darkness. “Damn, it’s black as the pits of Hell down there.”

“Be
careful.” Saylym shivered. “The steps are damp and slick.” She didn't relish
this trip to the underworld of the cellar.

A torch poked out from a narrow fissure in the rock wall.
Talon grabbed it and flipped open the lighter. As soon as he lit the torch,
shadows leaped off the moist stonewall. Rancid air, icy as hoar frost,
whooshed
up from the cellar and Saylym recoiled. She had been
so
right in her
conviction that this place should be let alone. Too bad Talon didn’t share it.

He
lowered the torch and swung it back and forth so she could see there were at
least a dozen steps leading down into the black hole. He switched the torch to
his left hand and pressed the flat of his right palm against the rocky outcrop
of wall and took the first step. The flames danced and flickered, creating
murky silhouettes on the walls before settling, leaving darker, wavering
shadows in the room. Saylym followed, matching him step for step.

“This
torch must be hundreds of years old,” Talon said, as he reached the last step.

Saylym stopped right behind him. “I thought that the first
time I lit it.” She let him steady her with a hand on her arm as they surveyed
the cellar. It wasn’t a large area, somewhere between nine and ten feet wide by
twelve feet long. A row of antique wine racks stood upright against the wall to
his left and three ancient-looking wine barrels set to the far end of the
racks.

“Ah!” he grunted with obvious satisfaction. “There it is.”

There
what
was? Saylym swiped at the centuries-old
spider webs that clung tenaciously to her face and hair. Her eyes narrowed as
she considered the heated kisses she and Talon had shared.

After he’d kissed her, his words had been so thick she
could barely understand him.

But it was his single-minded determination to get her to
agree to bonding with him that worried her.

And
just why did he want to bond with her? He claimed she wasn’t good enough with
her diluted bloodline, so why make the commitment?

They were hot together, no doubt about that. He was dark
and subtly mysterious, and he openly admitted he wanted her.

So
why did she persist in having doubts?

Though he was mostly gentle when he touched her, there
were times when the element of danger emitting from him was strong. She thought
his gentleness was a facade. Yes, he just might be a bit of a wolf; a sleek,
powerful predator on the prowl, and if she made the wrong move, the wrong
choice, he would gobble her up for a tasty snack.

That was it. He was a wolf, and she didn’t believe for a
single moment he’d allowed her to make the decision of bonding with him. He
might not want to, it may not be his preferred style of seduction, but she
thought he’d have his way with her one way or the other.

The
thought was frightening.

She didn’t think she could bear it if he forced her to
have sex with him. Relationships were a matter of choice, built on trust and
love. He wanted her, but he never said he loved her.

She nibbled on her bottom lip.

Why hadn’t she realized how important the difference was
before now? Now that she was alone in a near-dark room where no one could hear
her cries for help if she needed it?

Well,
idiot, maybe you were too busy noticing other things about him.

Like
what?

Like the mouth-watering ridge in his pants he teased
and taunted you with just a little while ago. Duh!

Oh,
shut up! Do you always have to be right?

How
about that sexy, delectable bottom lip and tight ass? You
know
you’re
dying to clench your fingers into those firm buns.

Go
away!

Oh, but she could think of other things that drew her to
him. The purposeful way he moved, like a jungle cat on the hunt, silent,
perilous with deadly intent, and without wasting an ounce of energy. He was
streamlined perfection. And he’d hunted her…his green/gold eyes focused on one
aim, her seduction.

Oh, yeah. She’d been too busy absorbing details, soaking
them up like a greedy sponge, to pay close attention to his pursuit. Sexy beast
that he was, it was all she could do just to keep from jumping his bones.

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