Linda Robertson - Wicked Circle

“Why would you need to?”

“The half-formed wæres, mostly. Just an extra security measure.”

He was climbing fast. She was keeping up, but she was panting with the effort. It resonated erotically in his ears.

“That was an impressive transformation,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? That’s it?”

He didn’t want to tell her how he was struggling with all that was new— Damn! The in signum amoris ! He squeezed her hand. Red? Red, you hear me?

She didn’t answer him. He released her, hoping it wasn’t too abrupt. He was aware that he had to give her some kind of answer, but like a bad joke, her mom had actually given up her right arm in the process of unlocking his tattoos; he wouldn’t dare complain, but neither would he say anything that might make him sound ungrateful or imply that Eris’s sacrifice hadn’t garnered all they’d hoped for. “It felt easier. Much more fluid.”

Emerging onto the ninth floor, he guided her toward the small guest chamber at the rear of the hallway.

“It was your first change since breaking the binding,” Persephone added. “Did it feel more powerful to you?”

“Yeah.” He opened the door of the small studio apartment and hit the switch for the lights, twisting the knob to dim them. “I guess.” He opened the door wider so she could enter.

“You guess? I was out in the hallway and I felt it.”

“Really?” Instead of letting her acquaint herself with the space, as soon as he shut the door, he seized her and held her against him. “I’ve got something else I want you to feel.” He pressed his lips to hers roughly. “God, I missed you.”

Seph kissed him back and buried her fingers in his hair.

It felt like he hadn’t seen her in months, not mere days. His body thrummed with energy and ached for a release.

His tongue pressed between her lips, and he wished it was another part of his body. Her lip gloss tasted like sweet berries. He reached under the sweatshirt, pushing up tank tops to touch her skin.

That enticing resonance played across his fingers again, dripping into his palm and rippling through his body.

“Mmmm. I missed you too,” she said, arms winding around his neck. Effortlessly, she hoisted herself up and wrapped her legs around him.

He carried her toward the bed in the corner and she wriggled just before he heard the thud of her shoes dropping to the floor. He laid her on the mattress and, beyond the want or need of foreplay, unfastened her jeans. She made no protest as he tore her panties and jeans away in one motion. Seph tugged her shirts over her head exposing braless breasts.

A growl rumbled up from his chest as he pushed off the pants he’d put on only minutes before, and his erection was no longer confined.

Unable to resist, he bent to kiss her breasts, to fondle and taste her—because he could. Everywhere their flesh touched, he burned, burned as if his skin had been rubbed raw and was extraordinarily sensitive—yet without any pain.

He had to be inside of her, right now. He groaned in desire as her wet warmth embraced him. It was almost too much. He reined his urgency back, using shallow, controlled strokes.

Seph gyrated under him and laced her fingers in his hair. “No,” she said, her smooth thighs squeezing around him. “All of it.”

He thrust deep. She moaned in approval, and part of him wished she would struggle a little, just enough to make dominating her a sweeter victory. He arched his back, gave her an extra-hard thrust. Then again. And again. The breathy uh-uh-uh sounds could have been the whimpering struggles of a subdued quarry. . . .

“Don’t stop.”

Don’t command me. He stopped.

She ground her hips against him. “Johnny.”

“What?” He pulled out of her. His tongue flicked up her neck. He nibbled on her ear.

“Johnny. More. Please.”

He was in control. Not her.

“Please . . . please . . .”

The soft pleading hit him like a hard-core turn-on. He pounded into her, fucking her until he felt a fluttering energy sweep over his naked backside like an ethereal wind. She clawed him, crying out.

As she quieted, he felt her body relax into blissful serenity, and she lay, panting, but he wasn’t done. It felt so good.

My turn.

His pace slowed. His fingers skimmed along her arm, lifted it slowly, gently, until her elbow bent as if she were touching her shoulder. Gently, he repeated this gesture with her other arm. Holding her wrists there, he pushed up. His weight kept her pinned to the bed.

He watched her, concentrating on what she was feeling. Her breasts rocked with his thrusts. Hot. Beautiful. Sexy.

Lowering himself to his elbows, he nibbled at her neck in small, teasing bites. The altered position changed the angle. She reacted with a lusty moan, her legs encircling him. She met his thrusts impatiently. He had her and he knew it. All he had to do was swivel his hips a little. . . .

Seph trembled and squeezed her legs tighter around him. The ghostly energy caressed him again and she cried out.

Instinctively, his mouth opened wide on her throat. With his teeth, he could feel every little movement she made. Her pleasure vibrated on his tongue.

His jaws closed a fraction.

Beneath him, Persephone’s body became more rigid.

She was still climaxing, but instead of wordless ecstasy, she called his name with both pleasure and fear in her tone.

The scent of fear blossomed on her skin. Johnny’s teeth closed another fraction—

What the hell am I doing?

He went utterly still, then kissed up her neck to her ear where he whispered, “You on top.” He rolled, switching their positions. Now submissively posed, he splayed his fingers across her buttocks, urged her to action. Persephone needed little encouragement.

He could already tell her fear had evaporated. And that anger had replaced it. She grabbed his wrists and put his arms into much the same position he’d held hers in.

He let her have control as she rode him. He savored the feeling of her strong thighs flexing and her hips grinding as she sought another orgasm.

When the sensation crept over him, he didn’t deny the release another moment.

You aren’t answering,” Johnny said, caressing up and down my arm.

I lay on my side. Though I nuzzled to his chest, I clutched my neck protectively. I’d been trying to remember the name of that song that had a line asking if the woman would offer her throat to the wolf with the red roses. I must have zoned out. “You didn’t ask anything.”

He gripped my hand and repositioned it away from my throat, gently squeezing. “Not out loud.”

Right. That. “The in signum amoris is gone, Johnny.”

“How? Why?” He sat up.

“I learned that Menessos had woven a hidden benefit for himself into it, so I unraveled his spell.”

He released a slow exhalation that tickled on my shoulder. “Would that explain a headache yesterday evening?”

“After nightfall?”

“Yup.”

“Yup,” I mimicked him.

“What hidden benefit did he have?”

“He could hear my thoughts but block me from hearing his.”

“Bastard.” He smoothed my hair. “But it was kinda cool.”

“It weirded me out.”

He leaned down and flicked his tongue all along my earlobe. His breath was hot in my ear as he whispered, “Yeah, but just imagine what it would’ve done for sex. . . .”

That might have been interesting. But I’d had enough sexual surprises for one night. I could still feel his teeth on my throat. I was all for unrestrained sexual moments, but actual fear had no place in my bedroom.