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“No small deal. That’s why it’s rare for my kind to go down this path.” He palmed her neck. “You’re already mine, but I want us to make it official. I want this relationship locked down. Tight.”
She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Cain, there’s still a lot that we don’t know about each other.”
“Which is why this is the perfect time for us to do this.” With his thumb, he tugged her lip free of her teeth. “We’d be effectively saying that, despite knowing we may later learn things about each other that won’t be easy to accept, we still want to take this jump; we’re still one hundred percent committed to each other.” He needed this from her. His creature needed it.
“It’s not that I don’t want that—”
“Then agree.”
“You’ll want other stuff if I do. Like for me to move into your Keep. I can’t yet. Not until I feel that my coven is fully settled here.”
He’d already anticipated that she’d make such a point. “If you think I won’t respect that, you’re mistaken. I’m aware that they need you close for a while. I’d never interfere with the responsibilities you have as a Priestess. I’m proud of who and what you are.” He dropped a soft kiss on her mouth. “We can hold off on you moving in here for now. So long as you continue to sleep in my bed each night and be here each morning when I wake.”
“And I wouldn’t be expected to, you know, develop airs and graces all of a sudden, right? To become some sort of pretty ornament that arranges fancy parties and all that boring jazz?”
“I’d only ever want you to be you. The fierce, loyal, vengeful woman who put a curse on my cock so that it would wither and decay if I betrayed her.”
A delightful, embarrassed blush heated her cheeks. “I still don’t understand why that makes you smile.” She shook her head fast, as if trying to dislodge the memory of what she’d done from her mind. “So what you’re saying is that nothing would really change if I agreed to be your consort? We’d simply be cementing what we are to each other?”
“Exactly.” He pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Say yes.”
She melted into him as he trailed kisses along her neck. “You’re making it hard for me to think.”
“Good. You don’t need to think. You just need to agree. Say. Yes.”
She gasped as he sent out a light wave of power that vibrated against her skin, making it break out into a shiver. “Keep doing that and I’ll definitely say yes.”
He lightly nipped her pulse and then lifted his head. “I’m not above using sex to coerce you to agree, but I’d rather I didn’t have to.” He brushed her nose with his. “Say yes, Wynter.”
A smile lit her eyes. “Yes.” The word was low and soft yet a solid vow all the same.
Satisfaction curved his mouth. “That’s my girl.”
“You should totally reward me. Like right now. With orgasms.”
“Hmm, I don’t see why not.” So he did exactly that.
Closing the gate of her front yard the next morning, Wynter looked up at the cozy, magical cottage where she and her coven resided. She loved it. Loved the thatched roof, the angular lattice windows, and the ivy that climbed up the walls. Loved the little touches they’d given to the yard—the hanging baskets of overflowing fern, the wicca-themed welcome mat, and the little outdoor lanterns.
Wynter used her key to unlock the heavy front door and then pushed it open. The interior of the cottage was just as charming, especially with the arched brick fireplace, the wooden beams on the ceiling, and the columns that looked like tree trunks.
Again, they’d added plenty of their own personal touches. Particularly here in the living area. Cute throw pillows adorned the sofa and armchair. A crescent moon mirror hung on the wall, along with triangular vases of fig and ivy. A Moon tarot card rug lay beneath the coffee table. A triple moon trunk was tucked against the wall not far from the corner altar on which candles, a bell, an athame, and a small cauldron were set.
The cottage wasn’t merely their home, it was the location of their business. A one-stop shop for those looking for baked goods, bespelled cosmetics, tarot card readings, weird and wonderful potions, and also to have their weapons enchanted. Their store did exceptionally well, which didn’t please many of the local business owners who saw them as competition, but tough shit.
As Wynter began to cross the living area, she heard voices coming from the country-style kitchen.
“I’m just saying that those kind of books should come with a warning label,” said Hattie. “Then I’ll know to avoid them.”
“I don’t see how people need to be ‘warned’ about them,” said Anabel. “It’s not like such books are offensive.”
“But there should be a whole separate subcategory for them,” Hattie insisted. “Like . . . fade-to-black-sex romance. When I pick up a romance novel, I want to know in advance if there are no raunchy scenes. I’m all about the raunch.”
Feeling her lips twitch, Wynter walked through the archway that led to the kitchen. The smells of herbs, spices, fresh bread, and coffee beans laced the air.
Her coven members were spread around the room. Xavier sat at the table sipping coffee, an empty plate in front of him. Anabel and Delilah stood at opposite ends of the countertop, each looking into a bubbling cauldron and prepping vials of potions.
Hattie carefully took a tray of hot bread from the oven as she said, “You can’t call a book Carnal and then exclude sex scenes. It’s false advertising.”
