Fingers tight around his glass, fist tight around his cock, Gabriel watched, panting like a starved beast as she slid her fingers down to the juncture of her thighs.
The sound of his own heartbeat thudded in his ears, teeth clenched tight as she dipped a finger inside, then drew back, lightly rubbing her clit. Her lips parted again, settling loose another imagined sigh that quickly cascaded into a moan, blood darkening her cheeks and chest just like it had in the cellar. And just like in the cellar, Gabriel knew when she was getting close. Her body was so responsive to every touch, and here she revealed its secrets and tells, one thrust, one dip, one soft circle at a time.
Jacinda’s hips undulated, her body writhing as she gave herself the very pleasure he’d denied her.
His cock fuckingthrobbedfor her, but he wouldn’t give in.
The witchwantedhim to touch himself, just as she was doing. Wanted him to break, knowing it was all because of her little games. Her little power play.
Gabriel was mere seconds away from giving her the victory.
Bloody hell, the woman called herself a witch, but what she was doing to him right now went beyond spellcraft. She was a damned demoness. A dark enchantress sent from the bowels of hell to ruin him. To burn him.
To grind his bones to dust, just as she’d threatened.
Gabriel’s knuckles turned white around the glass. He slammed back another swig of bourbon, but the burn of the alcohol did nothing to soothe the flames of desire.
The mere sight of Jacinda touching herself onscreen was enough to drive him to the fucking brink.
But the fact that she was doing it for him,becauseof him, knowing he’d be watching her, knowing he’d be hard and desperate and fuckingpowerlessto stop her as she made herself come…
Her body arched suddenly off the bed, every muscle drawn tight, lips glistening, eyes closed, fingers working faster and faster and then…
Fuck…
The glass shattered in his hand.
Gabriel got to his feet. Shook the broken glass and bourbon from his fingers.
Whipped the leather belt from his pants.
And headed upstairs.
Time to teach my witch a lesson she won’t find in any spellbook…
Chapter Twenty-Four
The force of the orgasm was still coursing through Jaci’s body when the bedroom door slammed open, biting into the plaster wall behind it.
She sat up at once. Gabriel stood in the doorway, his body limned in light, pants undone, a leather belt clutched in his fist.
“Tell me to stop,” he demanded.
Despite the fact that she’d just given herself the best orgasm of her life, all thanks to fantasies about the vampire now glaring down at her, her whole body turned to molten jelly at his words.
Pride and sanity told her to do it—tell him to stop. Tell him to go fuck himself, just like she’d told him in the cellar.
To stick with her fucking plan.
But then his eyes roved her naked body, burning her skin as if he’d branded her, his fist tightening around the belt, his breath as wild and ragged as hers, and all that pride evaporated.
Fuck sanity. Fuck vengeance. Fuck plans. Fuck their silly little games. Fuckallof it but his cock slamming into her pussy, his filthy mouth whispering all the ways he was going to absolutely ruin her.
“No,” she shot right back, and the vampire advanced on her at once, looming over the edge of her bed like a monster come to drag her to the depths of depravity.
His eyes blazed, heat burning away the ice. With one hand he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off, revealing the thick, corded muscles of his arms, the ridges of his abs, the v-shaped muscles that arrowed down beneath his hips.
Jaci had never wanted to lick anything as badly as she did at that moment.
