The Zombie Billionaire's Virgin Witch (Zombie Category Romance) (13 page)

She
reached up and pulled the pins out of her hair, tossing her head so her hair
tumbled down about her shoulders.  Then she planted her hands on her
hips.  “Only if you can make me.”

If
I have to die tonight, at least I’ll spend a few hours in heaven first.

In
all the sweaty dreams he’d had of tumbling Clare into his bed, he’d never dared
imagine she’d not only allow him to unleash his dominance, but that she’d
demand it.  After she’d impressed him over and over with her courage, it
shouldn’t surprise him now that she’d stand up to him yet again, revealing a
new complexity he ached to explore.

If
anything goes wrong tonight… If she can’t break the curse and loses her magic…
because of me…

The
thought made him close his eyes, his breath catching in his chest on a violent
constriction that shook him to his core.

“Never
mind,” she whispered, wrapping her hands around his on the arm of the
chair.  “I just want you, Yiorgos.  However you’ll take me.”

He
opened his eyes.  She knelt beside the chair, her chocolate warm eyes
shimmering with tears and longing.  Cupping her cheek, he stroked his
thumb across her lush lips.  “You misunderstand me, sweetheart.  I
don’t want this night to ever end.”

She
pulled his hand down enough to press a kiss to his palm.  “One night may
be all we have.  If this doesn’t work…”

“It’ll
work,” he ground out.  “I refuse to accept any other alternative.”

Her
lips quirked against his skin.  “There’s the alphahole I love.”

Letting
his eyes go heavy with lust, he wrapped his fingers in her hair.  Slowly,
he tightened his grip, winding the long locks around his fingers and watching
her face to see what she thought of small pain.

Her
eyes fluttered shut, her breath slipping out of those full lips on a long,
shaking sigh that made his cock swell to uncomfortable portions in his
pants.  He twisted his fingers deeper, until he gripped her skull, her
hair tangled around his fist.

Her
pulse throbbed in her neck.  Her skin gleamed, heated silk warm and flush
with desire.  She opened her eyes and no fear darkened her gaze. 
“Sir.”

He
breathed deeply, forcing himself to go slowly.  “I don’t normally let this
side of me out to play.”

She
looked at him like he’d just admitted he secretly hated to eat.  “Why
not?”

“I’ve
never had a woman who could deal with me at my worst.  No one even wanted
to, despite the lure of what my money could buy.  Most women aren’t as
brave as you.”

She
let out a husky laugh.  “Then you haven’t been playing with the right
women.  Which makes me very glad to be here with you now, tonight.”

“Not
just tonight, Clare.  Every night.”  He tugged on her hair a little,
encouraging her to slide into his lap.  She curled against him with a
luxurious sigh, her face settling against his neck.  Lowering his mouth to
her ear, he brushed his lips against her.  “What do you want, sweetheart?”

“Everything.”

“Clare…”

“I
mean it.”  She lifted her face, her eyes solemn and deep, sucking him down
for all eternity.  “I’m feeling as greedy about you as you do about having
another piece of my chocolate cake.”

He
groaned at the thought.  “No cake, not tonight.  I won’t be able to
keep my head.  This is my night to please you, to introduce you to all the
wonderful ways we can make love.  I want to do this right, Clare. 
We’ll never have another first night like this.  The last thing I want to
do is be an overbearing asshole that you grow to hate.”

He
refused to admit they might never have another night.  Period.  Not
if she couldn’t break the curse.

“I
happen to like the overbearing asshole.”  She slithered lower on his body,
slipping between his knees to the floor.  He could have prevented it—if
he’d cared to pull out a handful of her hair—but he allowed the silky strands
to unwind.  Running her hands down his chest to settle her fingers on the
bulge in his pants, she lifted her gaze back to his face.  “I want to have
you in my mouth.  I want to feast on you, taste you, revel in your
strength and power.  I want to be on my knees while I bring you to your
knees.”

He
leaned down, letting the darkness her words stirred reflect in his gaze. 
“And then I’m going to toss you into my bed and make you come so many times
you’ll beg me to stop.  But that will just be the beginning, Clare.”

TWELVE

Her
fingers trembled as she unbuttoned his pants and pushed the layers of clothing
away.  It wasn’t fear that made her shake, not even the nerves of a
virgin.  No, it felt she’d slugged an entire pot of his fully-leaded
coffee.  Her heart raced so fast she felt lightheaded and she couldn’t
seem to catch her breath.  He was potent, exhilarating, and
one-hundred-percent as aggressive and commanding as she’d always suspected.

The
most perfectly dangerous and sexy man alive.

So
many years she’d been fantasizing about this man.  This moment. 
After losing the family ring, she’d resigned herself that something like this
would never happen.  Let alone with him.

Freed,
his erection burned in her hand, so thick her fingers didn’t meet.

Heat
washed over her, searing her cheeks.  Her eyes burned fever-hot.  Her
fingers involuntarily tightened, drawing a low groan from him.

All
her insecurities blazed away in that fiery heat.  Where before she’d felt
stupid and cold and awkward standing naked before him, now she burned. 
She might be on her knees before him, but she didn’t feel weak, not at
all. 
I feel so powerful right now I could probably take on the entire
Wizard Council.

And
win. 

The
ruby on his hand sparked in the low light, glowing like a red-hot coal. 
Power pulsed through her, radiating from her bones out to her skin, as if she’d
start to glow, too.  Hope swelled within her, cresting on the rising
power. 

This
is how to break the curse.  I know it.  It feels too right to stop.

Gripping
him tighter, she rubbed her cheek against the head of his cock.  She’d
never known the skin would be so soft, even while he was like steel in her
hand.  Words and fantasy, that’s all she’d had for so long, nothing that
could compare to the reality. 

The
real Yiorgos.

The
real Clare.

She
rubbed her face and hair on him, teasing until he gripped the back of her head
in warning.  Peeking up at him to watch his reaction, she opened her mouth
and wrapped her lips around him.

His
head tipped back against the chair, the planes of his face shifting in the
shadows.  Harsh and remote, his expression remained locked under his
formidable control, but his eyes blazed with the same heat that filled
her.  Glittering obsidian caught and reflected the jagged fire from the
ring.

She
pushed deeper, taking as much of him into her mouth as she could.  Her
jaws ached, her lips stretching to accommodate him.  She couldn’t take his
full length into her mouth, so she kept her fingers wrapped around the base and
tightened her mouth as she slowly pulled back.

“Harder.” 
The raw graveled tone of his voice made her squirm.  “I’m not going to
break.”

Squeezing
harder as he’d ordered, she took him deep again.  Then she sucked as hard
as she could, keeping her mouth and lips tight as she pulled back.

His
other hand fisted in her hair.  “God, yes.”    

This
time when she took him deep, he tightened his grip, holding her steady while he
thrust ever so slightly.  He pushed against the natural constriction of
her throat.  Not enough to make her gag, but almost.  Almost too
deep.  Almost too big.  He hovered on the edge of too much, making
her totter there with him, unable to breathe or move.

Until
he lets me.

She
closed her eyes and held that feeling of ultimate surrender as tightly as she
gripped his cock in her mouth.

He
set a slow rhythm, each time pushing slightly deeper.  The ache spread
from her mouth down her entire body until she was throbbing with need. 
Need for him to touch her and ease that pressure before she exploded. 

She
tried to tell him with low garbled moans that didn’t sound like words. 
Red starbursts flared in her mind and she suddenly tasted him.  He pulsed
in her mouth, his body shuddering beneath her, his hands clamped on her
head.  The hairs on her arms and the nape of her neck rose, electrified by
the power flowing from him.

Power
that sank into her.

Her
body was like
Remy’s
that first night, greedily soaking in magic after
years of drought.  Only she didn’t know how she could possibly hold this
much power.  Her skin burned, her bones dissolving into dust beneath the
release of his pleasure.

Until
the cold cotton of the sheet pressed against her back, she didn’t even realize
he’d picked her up, let alone carried her to bed.  She blinked, trying to
focus on him and make her mouth work. 
Did you feel that massive
release of power?  Is it always like that? Because I’m not sure that I’ll
actually survive.

“The
ring lit up like a beacon.”  He did something with her hands but she was
still too drugged on power to figure out what.  “Did you see it?”

“Mmmm.”

Grinning
down at her, he stood and began removing the rest of his clothing.  “That
good, huh?  You should be very afraid now, Clare.  You’ve taken the
edge off so I can play for a very long time.  How many times do you think
I can make you come before I finally slide into your luscious body?”

Still
reeling from
his
release, she couldn’t answer.  Simple caresses
shattered her.  What would real intimacy do to her?  What was the
magic going to do when she climaxed the first time?

“You’re
so beautiful,” he whispered, drawing her gaze back to him. 

Slowly
unbuttoning his shirt, he stared at her so fervently she could almost feel the
passing of his gaze like ghostly fingers.  Her breasts swelled, her
nipples hard and aching.  Which only reminded her of how much she ached to
feel his touch.  She trembled at the thought, her legs parting automatically.

“Yes,”
he ground out in that hard, growling voice that sent her nerves singing. 
“Show me everything, Clare.  Show me where you want me to touch you
first.”

She
drew her knees up and lifted her backside, thinking to remove her panties for him,
but her hands didn’t move.  Startled, she twisted up to see that he’d used
his tie to bind her to the headboard.  She wrapped her fingers around the
silk and tugged experimentally.

Tied. 
Bound.  Helpless.

He
let out a wicked chuckle that made her gaze leap back to him.  Eyes
blazing like black coals, he stepped out of his pants and stalked toward the
bed with deliberate slowness—so she’d have plenty of time to think about what
he was going to do when he arrived.

She
tugged harder, enjoying the way it made her feel.  Trapped, penned, with
danger approaching. 
He’s the best kind of danger.

“Too
much, Clare?”

Wordlessly,
she shook her head.  Her heart had somehow crawled up into her
throat.  She clutched the tie, grateful to have something to hold on
to.   Everything seemed to whirl in her head, like she’d started down
a hill happy as a lark only to find herself windmilling out of control.

Head
over heels.  That’s me.

“When
you want your hands freed, tell me.  Or if you become afraid.  You’re
not afraid of me, are you?”

She
shook her head again, but his eyes narrowed slightly. 

“You’re
afraid of something, though.  Tell me, sweetheart.  If it’s the
bondage…”

“No,”
she forced the word out, wincing at how squeaky her voice sounded.  “I
like it.”

He
sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over her, wrapping his left hand around
her bound hands.  Just the heat of his palm made her moan, her back
arching up off the mattress.  Shivering, she squeezed her eyes shut,
struggling not to let the sensation wash her completely away.

“Ah,”
he breathed out.  “You’re afraid of feeling too much.”

“Don’t
you feel the magic?”  She couldn’t keep the quiver out of her voice. 
“It’s like a massive thunderstorm, roiling on the horizon.  I’ve never
felt this much magic even inside
Remy’s
kitchen, and every time you
touch me, it gets worse.”

“Better. 
It gets better.”

She
forced her eyes open so she could glare up at him.  “You released so much
power I thought you were going to blow the top of my head off.  What’s it
going to do to me when you touch me for real?”

“Like
this?”  Holding her gaze, he ran his hand down her wrist to her elbow and
shoulder.  His grip was firm and strong but not hard enough to
bruise.  Definitely not flirtatious or intimate, but magic flared, heating
her skin.  It made her arch toward him, desperate to get as much of her
body touching his as possible. 

He
laid his fingers on the scrap of silk between her legs.  “Or like
this?” 

Heat
poured through her, magic crawling through her pores, desperate to
escape.  “Yiorgos.”  She panted, twisting against her bonds. 
“It’s too much.”

He
kissed her knee and worked his way lower on her thigh, each stroke of his mouth
a flame that fueled the storm rising in her.  “Nothing’s too much for you,
baby.”

Taking
his time with Clare took his mind off the horrible doom waiting for him. 
  

He
cupped her fully, letting the pressure and heat of his palm build her
anticipation.  Sweat already trickled down his back and his lungs burned,
as though he’d set out hours ago on a marathon that just wouldn’t end. 
Magic?  Or the constant battle of keeping himself reined in enough to give
her every pleasure she could ever want?

The
signet ring cast swirling red rainbows on the ceiling, a living, pulsing
heartbeat on his hand.  His heart was pounding, yes, but this pulse was
different, deeper and richer and faster, hinting at Clare’s rising passion.

Shuddering,
she twisted her hips beneath his hand, silently begging for a deeper
caress.  He curled his fingers beneath the elastic band of her panties,
stroking her with the backs of his fingers.

Panting,
she raised her hips.  “I want these off.”

He
snagged the upper corner of silk with his free hand, the other with his teeth,
and stripped them away.  Keeping his touch light, he trailed his fingers
over her, up and down her inner thighs, tracing the creases and folds as gently
as angel’s wings.

“I’m
not going to break,” she retorted, throwing his own words back at him. 
“You don’t need to handle me like a soufflé that’s going to fall if you risk a
peek in the oven.”

Laughing
softly, he leaned down, holding her gaze.  “I’m going to do more than
peek, Clare.  I’m going to feast.  Remember how many pieces of cake I
devoured?”

She
opened her mouth but whatever response she intended to throw back at him was
lost as he licked across the full length of her.  He gave her a firm, deep
stroke, pushing between her folds to taste her desire as he’d threatened.

Her
breath rushed out.  Her thighs came up, not to push him away or keep him
out, but clutching him closer.  Pulling back enough to breathe on her
flesh, he firmly pushed her thighs down to the mattress.  He pinned her
wide, gripping her thighs hard and tight.  “Now there’s nothing to keep me
from eating my fill.”

He
nibbled his way down the tender skin of her inner thigh, stroked the crevice of
her hip, and turned his attention to her other thigh.  She pushed and
heaved beneath him, trying to free her legs.  He glanced up at her face to
measure her reaction—whether she truly wanted to escape or was simply enjoying
the opportunity to struggle.

Her
neck was arched, her full breasts flushed with desire, her lips parted, soft
and open.  She held the tie in both hands like a lifeline, but he didn’t
sense any fear.  More, the magical pulse of the ring quickened, the hue
richer and blood-red.

He
closed his teeth on the soft flesh of her thigh, gripping harder until she
cried out his name.

“Too
much?”

“Yes,”
she panted.  “I need you inside me.  Now.”

“Not
yet, baby.  I haven’t feasted nearly long enough.”

But
he relented enough to slip a finger inside her.  So hot and tight, she
quivered around him, surprisingly close to her first precious release.  He
kept his finger buried inside her heat and flicked his tongue over her clit, a
gentle torturous stroke.

The
ring suddenly felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.  It gripped his
finger in a vise, just as her muscles clamped down harder on him.  He
captured her clit in his mouth so he could feel the rhythmic pulse of her
release on his tongue.  Hairs rose on his arms like he’d plugged himself
into a light socket. 

She
cried out, words he couldn’t understand, couldn’t hear over the roaring in his
ears.  His muscles clenched and for one wretched moment he feared he might
have come again without ever thrusting inside her.   His entire body
throbbed, every nerve ending alive and screaming with the force of her
release.  The air vibrated in the room, thick and heavy as though magic
hung all about them, and the ring spun a vibrant wildfires throughout the room.