Eleri Stone - Witch Bound

“Not Carly. You,” he said, searching her face. “I think I might have already started to bond to you. That’s what I was worried about—that my bond might have interfered with the geis. That me not telling you about it put you in danger.”

“And you think you bonded to me ?”

He reached up to brush a tendril of hair away from her face. “Who else?”

Any woman with eyes and a brain and a heart. She didn’t think it was possible but reached out with her magic to check anyway. She found the geis first and dismissed it before moving on to the tangle of emotions that hit her every time she thought about Fen.

While she looked, searching for that telltale thread of magic, Fen’s hands slid up, slowly, over her hips to bracket her waist. “The first time I saw you when you stumbled through the portal, it felt like getting zapped by a thunderbolt. And every second we’ve spent together since has made it stronger. I fought it because of Christian. Because I still think you deserve better than someone already bound to a pack. You want children.”

“I want you more.”

His arms tightened around her, pulling her to the edge of her chair. As much as she wanted to sink into that embrace, she continued to sort through the magic that surrounded them both. There was enough of it to make it complicated—her a witch with some of her magic still tied to the wards. Him a hound with all of his pack ties.

“I didn’t suspect a bond until I decided to sleep with Carly and couldn’t even get an erection.” He said it as if it were an awful confession.

“Good,” she said fiercely. “I’m glad.”

His mouth turned up at the corners. “You’re glad I might be the only hound to ever bond to a woman without getting to enjoy even one night of sex?”

“You’ll get at least one night.”

She’d meant it as a joke, but he flinched. “I don’t want a pity fuck, Rocky. Don’t do that to me.”

She stopped what she was doing to focus on him. Pressing her hand to his cheek, she looked him straight in the eyes. “I already told you what I want. I love you, Fen, that hasn’t changed. Remember? I’m just waiting for you to get used to the idea. I’m waiting . And we both know how good I am at that once I’ve made up my mind.”

He was silent. She could feel his chest expand against her thighs with every breath he took. The warmth of his body. The rock-hard, wiry strength in the arms surrounding her. He didn’t seem to realize what amazing restraint she was exercising by not reaching for him.

“What if I told you I’m used to the idea now?” The words were soft, barely a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I wanted to woo you. A first date. Flowers. Dinner. I wanted you to have that.”

“We can still do those things. The bond isn’t an ending. It doesn’t have to be like that.” She traced a fingertip along the sharp edge of his cheekbone and pressed a kiss to his temple. “And you’re not bonded to me. Not yet.”

“You’re sure?”

The temptation to lie was there, but she couldn’t do it, would never do that to him. “The bond is desire and consent with sex to anchor it. When the first conditions are met, there’s a drive to complete it. That’s what you’re feeling now—that instinct. It’s probably stronger because you’ve been fighting it so hard when you know I’m willing.” She paused. “Don’t worry, though. There’s still time to change your mind if you decide you don’t want me.”

He exhaled sharply. “Not want you? Is that what you think?”

His hands flexed on her hips, fitting her tighter to his body. His chest pressed against her most intimate parts. She rested her arms on his shoulders as his arms encircled her back. His face was only inches away—expression intent and hungry and raw. His mouth was right there, so close she could feel his breath fan across her lips.

“I’m here thinking I might have bonded to you. Without sex . I couldn’t force myself to be attracted to another woman, but I see you and it’s all I can do to stop myself from throwing you down on the nearest flat surface. This table. That wall. The floor. Does that sound like I don’t want you?”

She shook her head. “Then why hold yourself back? You were going to bond to Carly. Why not me?”

She thought she knew the answer. She was only waiting for him to catch up. She would wait for him, however long it took. His eyes blazed—hunger and fear warring inside of him. Her heart melted, turning soft as taffy.

She curved her hand to the back of his head, threaded her fingers through his silky hair and closed the distance between them. She brushed her lips across his, and when he didn’t pull away, traced the seam of his mouth with her tongue. He opened for her and she took that as an invitation to deepen the kiss. When she found his tongue, he groaned, a deep, growly sound that made her nipples tighten.

His hands stroked her back, slid down to grip her hips and pull her closer. He leaned forward, hands coming to her face to hold her steady as he plundered her mouth. Nothing tentative about this kiss. All need and desire—twenty-eight years worth of it—hot and aching and desperate. Bending her knees to wrap her thighs around his waist, she arched her body to rub against him.

The edge of the table bit into her spine and she didn’t really give a damn. Because Fen, her Fen , was finally kissing her, moving against her and making deep, guttural noises of appreciation when she skimmed her hand down his body to stroke his cock. Somehow she hadn’t expected that. When she’d thought about what he’d be like in bed, she hadn’t imagined noisy. She smiled at the revelation.

His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt and paused when they hit bare skin. She sucked in a gasp as his hand moved higher, easing over her skin in a light, dancing touch that made her drop her head back. Setting her elbows on the table behind her, she arched her spine to give him access. Fen kissed her jaw. Her throat. He murmured something indistinct but sexy as hell in that low growling voice, and his teeth nipped at the skin below her ear.

“Fen...we need to stop.”

“I’m not stopping, Rocky. You’re right. There’s no reason to wait. Whatever happens, I’m not walking away from you. Tell me again.”

She didn’t have to ask him what he meant. Tears pricked her eyes. “I want you. This. I’ve never wanted anything more.”

“Good. Hold on, then.” In a show of strength, he wrapped his hands under her thighs and lifted her. He swapped positions, sitting down on the bench and settling her on his lap. She straddled him, her legs tightened around his waist and her arms clinging to his neck.

“I didn’t care,” he said. “When I thought I might be bonded to you. You know what I felt? Relief because I didn’t have to fight this anymore. I don’t want to fight this.”

He pushed his hands into her hair and dragged her mouth to his. His tongue pushed inside her as he flexed his hips, rubbing his cock against her. They were both wearing jeans. Stupid jeans. There was no easy way—

A squeaking noise behind her jolted her back to her senses. The sound of crashing dishes brought Fen’s head up. His hand was under her shirt, his fingertips set to the underside of her bra.

Her mother beamed at them. “Are we having a wedding after all?”

Raquel groaned. Fen...whimpered and withdrew his shaking hand from beneath her shirt. His head dropped to her shoulder, leaving her to deal with her mother and now, Aiden, Christian and Grace, who filed out of the stairwell with concerned, then bemused expressions on their faces.

She cleared her throat and tried to pretend this was nothing out of the ordinary. “Hey, guys. Would you mind maybe giving us a few minutes?”