Angie Fox - Gentlemen Prefer Voodoo

It poured into him, brilliant and whole. The air around them shimmered as pure love glowed between them. She held nothing back. For the first time in her life, she gave everything. She had to think that he felt it, that he knew.

This magic would never come back and she didn’t care. She gave it to him, brilliant and true, because she loved him. It was the most natural gift she could give. It was her love spun out like silk. She needed him to have it before he died.

Amie laid her head on his cold hard chest, drained, yet more at peace than she’d ever been.

Her heart fluttered as traces of her love magic sizzled between them. Her breath caught. She didn’t know exactly what she was feeling, only that her magic was slowly growing instead of diminishing.

The traces weren’t flowing to him, but from him and through her and back to him. She could see it like golden cords between them. She raised her head and discovered him watching her. “Dante?”

He cocked a weak grin. Amie wet her lips. His face had regained some color. He still looked tired, but…“What’s happening?”

“You love me.” She went weak as he reached for her, his arms holding her tight.

She buried herself against the warmth of his chest. “Yes,” she sobbed against him.

“And I love you.” He leaned forward and kissed her lightly, tasting the salt of her tears. “More than I can ever say.” He pulled her to him, kissing her long and hard. She felt the power this time, a soul-deep tug as it spiraled through her. It warmed her, fulfilled her and…“Oh my.” She drew back. If he hadn’t been weak and bleeding, it would have her doing indecent things to a chair-ridden man.

“I’m going to be fine,” he whispered. She followed his gaze to the empty place on her bookshelf. His wedding ring had disappeared.

“Really?” Her heart squeezed. “You’re really going to be fine?” She almost couldn’t allow herself to hope.

“Fine,” he said against her lips. His arms slipped around her and he demonstrated exactly how he had recovered.

It was beautiful and intense and—confusing. “Wait. How?”

He drew her back down to him. “Because you love me.”

Dante had never met a woman who had mirrors over her bed. Then again, he’d never encountered anyone like Amie.

He drove his feet into the tangled sheets and hissed out a breath as she flicked her tongue over the sensitive spot at the base of his ear. Warmth flooded him.

“That’s it.” He flipped her over onto her back. “I can’t take it anymore.” He ground himself against her, naked, and more ready than he’d ever been.

“What?” she asked. “You’ve waited two hundred years for this and you can’t take another twenty minutes of foreplay?”

“Something like that.” He lifted her and in one swift motion, pinned her against the antique cherry headboard.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and skimmed her lips against his before drawing him down for an utterly lethal kiss. He felt her power burning between them, hot, wild, and sexy as hell.

Her love magic had sealed the spell that had brought him back. It had healed him, made him fully mortal once again. But more than that, it had given him the woman he loved, one who could—at last—love him back.

And while he had her here…

Amie never imagined feeling this way in her safe, warm bed. Dante was everything she didn’t want—wild, unpredictable, and undeniably hers.

She was about to tell him that when Dante lowered his mouth and began doing spine-tingling things to her neck, her ears, her breasts. Her magic flowed into him, warm and steady, and rocketed back to her, spinning and sparking, catching on the ribbons of pleasure that wound through her until she thought she’d die from the pleasure of it.

At long last, Amie managed to lift her head and croak, “You. Here. Now.”

She flung her head back. “Dante,” she pleaded as he kissed and nipped his way up her body.

“Yes, dear?” He nuzzled her neck, gasping as she ran her tongue along his ear.

“I love you,” she whispered.

His voice caught. “I know,” he said hoarsely, and drove home.