Sylvia Day - Spellbound

He’d almost given in, he had wanted her so badly. Feeling her body grasping for him, hungry for him, had driven him crazy. The only thing that held him back was concern for her. If he failed to bring her back from the edge, They would kill her. And that would kill him.

Clutching her close, Max used his powers to take them home—his home. There he lowered her gently to his velvetcovered bed and then cupped her thigh, spreading her wide. The sight of the glistening lips of her sex and tiny pussy made his balls draw up. The look in her eyes made his heart ache.

Hours. That’s all they had left.

He climbed over her, admiring the new curves she’d acquired with careful tending. Under his care, she’d lost the signs of neglect. As he caught one of her wrists and pulled it over her head, he never took his eyes from her, using magic to pull the velvet rope from the bedpost and bind her.

“Max.” A whisper, no more than that, as she lifted her other arm without urging and used her own power to restrain herself.

Victoria was the most powerful woman he’d ever known, both in their world and the world they shared with humans. Her submission of that power to his demands was a gift of such magnitude it captured his heart. His eyes burned, his throat clenched tight.

His kitten. His.

He took her then, in a swift sure thrust that joined them so tightly there was no separation. A raw sound tore from his throat as she climaxed instantly, sucking his cock with ripples of pleasure, luring him to come in her with hard, fierce spurts. Holding her shivering body tightly to his, Max pumped gently, draining his seed while prolonging her pleasure, absorbing her cries with pure infatuation.

Later, he laced his fingers with hers and rode her bound body again. Harder this time, releasing his passion in a brutal taking, his hips battering hers, his cock plunging deep.

Victoria accepted his lust with such beauty, her voice hoarse, her words barely audible over his labored breathing.

“Yes . . . yes . . . yes . . . ”

Taking all that he was, blossoming like a flower beneath him, lush with such promise. The places he could take her, the things he could teach her, the freedom he could give her . . .

But he was a Hunter groomed to join the Council, and They didn’t keep Familiars.

So Max took what he could, his tongue and lips working at her breast, drawing on her with hungry pulls, worrying the hard nipple against the roof of his mouth. His hands pinned her down, kept her still for the steady rise and fall of his hips, his cock working her into endless pleasure, giving her no rest, afraid to stop touching her. Afraid to lose her.

Keep her.

The compulsion rose up so unexpectedly that his rhythm faltered, suspending him at the deepest point of a downward plunge, his cock scalded by the hot clasp of her cunt.

“No!” she cried, struggling beneath him. “Don’t stop. Please . . . ”

How could he walk away? She’d sacrificed the life she’d built for herself to reenter his.

He would do the same for her. He needed to do the same for her.

“Never.” He growled and crushed her to him, resuming his claiming, his flushed cheek pressed to hers. “I’ll never stop. You’re mine. Mine. ”

Victoria summoned the black robe Familiars wore when facing the Council and dressed silently. She’d preserved the garment all these years, saving it for the day she would face Them and exact her revenge. Now she donned it with a different purpose in mind.

As she prepared to leave, her eyes never strayed from the sleeping form on the bed. Max’s powerful body sprawled facedown, the red satin sheets riding low on his hips. Gorgeous.

She ached to touch him, to wake him, to look into those molten silver eyes one last time.

How dangerous he was, even in slumber.

Tears fell unchecked.

Lost in her, his mind had lowered its guards, his thoughts and feelings pouring into her in a flood of longing and affection that destroyed. He was willing to give up all that he’d worked for to keep her, and she couldn’t let him do it.

She couldn’t lose him like she lost Darius. The Council would be furious at being thwarted a second time. Their spite had cost her one love. She refused to let it cost her another.

Better to lose him to a life apart from her than to death.

So she covered her mouth to muffle her pain, and left him.

T he moment Max woke from the depths of sheer physical exhaustion, he knew she was gone. Their connection was such that he had felt Victoria inside him ever since the collar had appeared. Now the warmth she gave him was no longer there, leaving him cold.

But he wasn’t alone.

Once again, you exceeded our expectations, the Council said, in a tone laced with satisfaction. The Familiar is returned to the fold, a result she says would not have been possible without your power and expertise. We are pleased.

Rolling out of bed, Max tugged on a pair of loose-fitting trousers, his heart racing in near panic. “Where is she?”

She is preparing for the joining ceremony.

“ What? ” He paused and glanced at the clock by his bed, his fists clenching. Two hours ago he’d been balls deep inside her. Now she was bonding forever to another man? “What’s the goddamned rush? I just collared her! The training wasn’t finished.”

How could she?

Black rage rolled over him.

We felt it would be safest, and most effective, to partner her quickly. Her warlock will train her to suit him.

“Who is he?”

Gabriel was selected. He was the only warlock strong enough, aside from you.

Max’s jaw ached from gritting his teeth. Gabriel was powerful, considered handsome, as popular with women as Max was, but the other warlock stayed far away from the darker edge of magic. To Max it was a weakness. Gabriel had a line he wouldn’t cross and it opened him to failure. Weakness like that would give Victoria too much leeway. She needed an iron fist. Craved it. Max had only one vulnerability, and it was one he needed to control her.

Victoria herself.

There was no line he wouldn’t cross to achieve his aims.

And he proved it by abandoning his home, his ambitions, and the life he knew to go after her.

Victoria stared at her reflection as the handmaidens adjusted her robes for the ceremony ahead. Her eyes were red-rimmed, bloodshot, bruised from lack of sleep and too much crying.

She’d forgotten who Max was, seeing him only through smitten eyes, failing to remember that he was a Hunter and next in line to ascend to the Council. He’d spent centuries working toward his goal, and two weeks working on her—one of many assignments in his past, with more to come in his future. He would forget her in time.

The thought made her heart hurt, the pain so piercing she panted with it.

Waving her attendants away, Victoria caught the edge of the vanity and gulped down desperate breaths. She’d been out of the loop so long, she had no idea who Gabriel was, but the handmaidens raved about her luck. Yes, she would pine for the man who’d taken over her body and filled it with mind-numbing pleasure, but perhaps, in a decade or two, she could come to tolerate Gabriel’s touch . . .

“You’ll never know, kitten,” rumbled a deep, familiar voice behind her.

Her gaze lifted and met stormy gray.

“Max,” she breathed, her palms growing damp at the sight of him. Bare-chested, barefooted, wearing only trousers that hung low around his lean hips. His shoulders so broad, his golden skin stretched over beautifully defined muscles. A predator.

Her mouth dried, her breasts swelled with desire, as if he hadn’t just fucked her into exhaustion mere hours ago.