“More! Just give me more of you.Allof you… I mean, in whatever way you’re comfortable… No pressure… it’s just that I’mreallyfucking turned on right now, and you’re… this… it’s just so—holyfuckinghell!”
“Turned on by a monster.” I chuckle softly, drawing slow, delicate circles over her clit with the tip of my tail, my cock plunging into her wet heat. “Now, thisisan interesting development.”
“Excellent. Note it in your field journal.”
“Perhaps later. Right now, I’d like to hear more about these…urgesof yours.” I call upon my shadows, commanding them to encircle her wrists and ankles, pinning her hands above her head and spreading her thighs wide for me.
“Yes,” she whispers, head lolling, hips arching. “Iurgeyou to keep going.”
“I believe I need more data before I can fully proceed.” I slide out of her, capturing her groan of protest with a deep kiss, then slowly work my way down, nipping and teasing, tasting her silky skin, dragging my claws lightly over her bare flesh as I bring my mouth to the apex of her thighs.
I kiss her inner thigh, dragging my tongue higher, higher still, barely caressing her clit before moving to the other thigh.
Pinned by my shadows, she’s powerless to retaliate. “I hate you right now,” she breathes.
“Now, now.” I flick my tail against her clit, making her moan. “Hate is a strong word, Elizabeth.”
Then, with a sudden urgency, I plunge my tongue inside her, kissing her feverishly, losing myself in her pleasure, in the warm salt of her desire, the rasping breaths of my name whisperedover and over as I fuck her with my mouth, my fingers digging into her thighs as I plunder her, deeper, faster, and then?—
“Merrick! Yes… oh God…yes!”
Elizabeth comes for me, recklessly and without restraint, a symphony of breathy moans echoing through the cottage, hips bucking wildly against my face as I continue to ravish her, savoring the taste, the scent, the overwhelming intensity of it as wave after wave crashes through her, nearly drowning us both.
I give her a moment to catch her breath, taking my sweet time kissing each of her silken thighs, then her hip bones. Her belly. The soft swell of her breasts. The elegant slope of her neck. By the time I reach her mouth, and settle my still-hard cock once more between her thighs, I’m fully human again, my shadows dissipating like smoke in the breeze.
“Tell me,” I whisper. “What is it my beautiful witch wants now?”
She smiles, limned in a crimson glow. “I want to feel you inside me again,” she whispers.
“Hmm. Like this?”
“Just like this, Merrick.” She slides her hands into my hair, drawing me down for another kiss, and I sink into her. We find our perfect rhythm once more, moving together, and I think back to that moment in the ballroom, when I held her close and asked her to tell me it was real, that I hadn’t stumbled into a dream.
Now, it feels as though we were inevitable, my witch and I. A dream destined to come true, as though all the bits of my life—the pain and loneliness of childhood, the drive for knowledge that ultimately saved me, the price I paid the night I lost my soul, all the haunting regrets—were necessary threads weaving the tapestry ofthismoment,thiswoman,thislove.
She whispers my name against my lips, a sigh as soft as powder, and when she kisses me again I’m lost, falling, floating.Her body tightens around me, and she cries out in ecstasy, and at long last I come inside her in a blinding, rapturous fury that sets the stars scattering behind my eyes, chasing away the very last of my old ghosts.
Curled up in my arms, head resting comfortably on my chest, Elizabeth says, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Yes, I can smell the smoke.” I kiss the top of her head. “Tell me, love. What is my brilliant witch pondering so intently after I’ve just manifested for hermultipleworld-class orgasms.”
“Hey!” She props her chin on her hand, shooting me a playful glare. “Pretty sure that was a mutual manifestation.”
“Hmm. Perhaps we should run another experiment. One can never have too much data.”
“Or too many orgasms.”
“Yet another theory I’m looking forward to testing.”
We fall into comfortable silence again, and for one blissful moment I convince myself she’s not going to say it, not going to give voice to the thoughts we’ve both been dodging for days.
But then she releases a long, slow breath, and I know, by the sudden furrow of her brow and the subtle tightening of her muscles, that we can no longer escape the inevitable argument.
“The soul reunification spell,” she says. “I really?—”
I press a fingertip to her lips. One last, desperate attempt. “Let us not speak of it, Elizabeth. It’s fruitless. I won’t let you sacrifice your legacy for me.”
She shakes her head, eyes glazing with emotion. In a soft, defiant whisper, she says, “I think we owe it to ourselves to try.”
