P.C. Cast - Mysteria Nights

He hoped so. He wanted her to like him, this.

“Tell me what you’ve fantasized about.” Her warm breath stroked him, teased him.

He had to grip the sheets or he would soon be fisting her hair, and then there would be no stopping himself from coming in her mouth. “You. Doing this.”

“What else?” She licked the tip, lapping up the glistening moisture already beaded there. “Mmm.”

Shit. “Me, inside you.”

Her teeth scraped the head, and he groaned at the delicious sensation. “What else?” she demanded. “Tell the truth, and you’ll be rewarded. Isn’t that how you like to work?”

“Pounding, hot, hard, wild, screaming, you bent over, me taking you from behind. My fingers on your clit, working it. You coming over and over.”

As he spoke, she sucked him down, up, down. Taking him all the way to the back of her throat. He barely managed to get the words out, but he kept talking. Anything to continue that delicious pressure. One of her hands kneaded his balls, the other glided up his chest and flicked his nipple.

He felt attacked at every pleasure point, and he loved it. He was bucking, unable to slow his movements, close to the edge. If she kept this up, he really would— Shit, shit, shit. Falon grabbed her shoulders and jerked her up. Her lips were swollen and wet, she was panting, her desire clearly renewed.

She moaned in disappointment. “I wasn’t done.”

“Condom,” he said, the word more a snarl. “Now.”

Her pupils were dilated, her cheeks flushed as she gazed around wildly. “Where are they?”

Damn, where had he placed them? He searched, saw two silver packets resting on the floor. He’d thought ahead, thank God. He reached out, way out, grabbed one and ripped it open with his teeth. Motions jerky, he straightened and worked it over his length.

His hands settled on Glory’s thighs and spread them as wide as they would go. Her wet, needy core was poised over his cock, just like her mouth had been. “Ride me.”

“I thought—you said behind.”

“Next time,” he said, and then she was pressing, he was arching, and he was all the way inside her, surging deep, taking all of her that he could get.

Her head fell back, her hair tickling his legs. Her breasts arched forward, and he cupped the small of her back, jerking her forward. When those hardened buds abraded his chest, he growled out a, “Fuck yes.”

“Feels so good.”

“Kiss.”

“Please.”

He pounded in and out of her as their lips met. His tongue thrust inside, and she eagerly welcomed it, rolling it with her own. Their teeth clashed together once, twice, but that didn’t douse the intensity.

Every other woman he’d ever been with faded to the back of his mind as if they’d never existed. There was only Glory. There was only here and now. Eternity—with her.

“Falon,” she gasped, and he knew she was close.

He reached between them and thrummed her clitoris. That was all she’d needed. She came in a rush, squeezing at his cock, crying his name again and again, nails raking his chest.

He, too, fell over the edge. And when he came, it was the strongest of his life. Every muscle he possessed locked and released, spasming. Blood rushed through his veins, so hot it blistered everything it touched.

“Glory,” he chanted, and it was a prayer for more. More of her, more of this.

Now I’ve gone and done it , Glory thought. She was snuggled into Falon’s side, warm and sated—more so than she’d ever been before. He was asleep, his breathing smooth. Even in slumber, his hand traced up and down her spine as though he couldn’t stop touching her.

I love him .

There, she’d admitted it. She did. She loved him. Would have liked to spend forever with him. Making love, talking, laughing. Impossible.

She was a witch, and there was nothing she could do about that. She possessed magic powers. That wasn’t something she could switch off. Not for long, anyway. And Falon would always fear her because of it, no matter what he claimed.

All these months, she’d gagged every time she’d seen her sisters with their boyfriends. Her chest had ached, and she’d assumed the ache was from disgust not love. Now she was experiencing the emotion for herself. The ache for what could not be.

Her eyes filled with tears. She loved Falon, but she couldn’t have him. Even though he thought he wanted more from her. He’d said as much before falling asleep. She hadn’t answered, hadn’t known what to say. But she could just imagine him cringing during their first fight, suspecting her of evildoing. She could just imagine the accusations he’d hurl at her every time something went wrong in his life.

That would destroy her. Better to walk away now, as planned. It was the only way her heart could survive.

Gingerly, Glory slipped from his body, from the bed. Her legs were so shaky she almost fell. Since she’d written herself here without any real clothes, she borrowed a pair of sweats and a T-shirt from Falon.

Before she put them on, she held them to her nose and inhaled deeply. They smelled of him, like soap, dark spices, and strength. A tear fell. Once dressed, she walked to the edge of the bed. Still he slept soundly. Must not have gotten any rest these past few days. He’d probably feared she’d attack with her pen at any moment.

What if things could be different ? What if there was a chance they could make it work?

He looked so peaceful. His dark hair was in disarray against the pillow. His face was flushed with lingering pleasure. The sheet had fallen, revealing the entire expanse of his mouthwatering chest.

Who are you trying to fool ? Make it work? Please . Those silly tears began falling in earnest. She was going to miss him. Taunting him, being with him, sparring with him, had been fun. He was witty, and he was warm. He was wild and protective and a lover who cared more about her pleasure than his own.

His fingers flexed over the part of the mattress she’d occupied.

Her heart stopped beating. One step, two, she backed away from the bed. Any moment, he would probably wake up. What would he say to her? What would he do?

Doesn’t matter .

Glory pivoted on her heel and stalked quietly from his house. They only lived a mile apart, and she’d traveled the forest many times before, so she entered the night without hesitation.

She left her heart with Falon.

When Falon woke up alone, he was not happy.

When he rushed to Glory’s house and discovered she had packed a bag and taken off, telling no one where she planned to stay, he was angry.

When he drove around town, asking if anyone had seen her and found that no one had, he was beyond furious!

Why had she left him?

To punish him? He didn’t think so. They were past that point now, he knew it, and she wasn’t the type to do so without gloating—something he loved about her. Loved. Yes. He loved her. She was his woman, the other piece of him. He knew that now, and so there would be no more denying it. The fact that she was a witch didn’t matter anymore. He’d rather have her and her powers than be without her.

Had she left because she was . . . scared?

Yes, he thought. Yes . Well, he was scared, too. New relationships were always scary, but this one more so than most. They’d been at odds for a while. But they’d also just had the best sex of his life. Addictive sex. He’d just have to prove they could be together, that he wouldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t stop loving her. But how?

You still have the pen .

The thought slammed into him with the force of a jackhammer, and he grinned. He rushed back home.