Her body shuddered, and a few tears leaked down her cheeks. If Monroe hadn’t done the spell on him, Briggs would be dead, and it would be all Cece’s fault. Her magic wasn’t strong enough to protect him, and never would be unless she used him to increase it.
You wouldn’t be using him, you’d be protecting him. Increasing your magic means you can keep the man you love safe.
She took a deep breath. She did love Briggs. Her terror that he would die tonight, her fear that she would lose him, had forced her to acknowledge her love for him. It might have felt foreign to her, she’d never been one for believing that falling in love happened quickly, but there was no denying it.
She loved him and wanted to be with him, but had no way to prove to Briggs that she truly did love him and wasn’t just using him for her magic. She drew in another shuddering breath. He’d desperately wanted to touch her as soon as they were home. She could see it in his eyes and practically feel his need coming off of him in intense waves.
She wanted it too, but not like this. He wanted to touch her because of the taste of her magic he’d gotten earlier, and while she understood it and craved that magic and connection herself, she couldn’t let it happen. Not now, when they had both nearly died, and they were feeling raw and exposed.
She pulled on her flannel pajamas and, steeling herself against the cold, left the steamy bathroom. She crossed to the bed and pulled back the covers, pausing when a flicker of movement caught her eye.
She turned toward the door, her breath catching when she saw Briggs standing in her room. He wore his usual sweatpants and tank top, and she stared at him greedily, her body responding despite her exhaustion. His thick hair was damp from the shower, and his usual stubble was almost a beard.
Hating herself, she said, “Briggs, you can’t be in here.”
He strode toward her, brushing past the vines that hung from the ceiling, the floor shaking minutely with every step. He stopped in front of her, but the desperation and raw need she expected to see in his gaze weren’t there. Instead, warm desire and love radiated from his pretty blue eyes.
“Briggs,” she whispered.
“You almost died tonight. Don’t ask me to stay away,” Briggs rasped. “I can’t, my mate.”
“What happened tonight was awful and scary, and our emotions are crazy right now,” she said. “But -”
“I love you, Cece.”
Oh, how she wanted to believe that. A small part of her wanted to pretend that what Briggs felt for her was real, that he loved her like she loved him. To take him and make him hers and allow her magic to convince him that what he felt for her really was love.
But she couldn’t. She loved Briggs too much to manipulate him, even if it meant being separated from him.
“What you feel isn’t real,” she said gently. “My magic -”
“It’s real,” he said fiercely. “It is, and I almost lost you tonight. When that witch hit you with that spell and the fire…”
She heard the click of his throat when he swallowed. “I wasn’t thinking about the loss of your magic. It was the loss of you, of my mate, that had me so fucking scared, I could barely breathe. I can’t live without you. I don’t love you because of your magic, Cece. I love you because you’re kind and sweet and brave and so goddamn strong. If you had died tonight, it would have destroyed me. You are my mate, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Before she could stop him, he took her hand and flattened it against his chest. She could feel the beat of his heart against her palm as her magic flickered to life in her veins, its pulse matching the rhythm of his heart, beat by beat.
“Everything I am, everything I will ever be, is yours,” Briggs said. “I love you, little witch.”
His words rang with sincerity and truth, and his gaze was full of love and longing. Tears sliding down her cheeks, her magic a steadily growing force within her, she said, “I love you, too.”
He growled and pulled her into his arms, cupping her skull in his big hand as he kissed her. She returned his kiss, wrapping her arms around him when he placed kisses across her cheeks and along her jaw.
“I love you,” he repeated.
“I love you.” Her magic was now a hot rush in her veins, a pulsing need for the man in front of her, and she was so tired of denying it. “Briggs, I need…”
“I know,” he growled.
The sweetness in his touch turned to hot urgency, and he stripped her of her pajamas with a few quick movements. The smell of pine trees, fresh flowers, and good, clean earth filled Cece’s head as Briggs yanked off his clothes and tossed them aside before pushing her onto the bed.
Her pussy was already soaking wet, her nipples tight buds that had nothing to do with the cold air and everything to do with the man kneeling between her legs. She spread her thighs wide, urging him down against her body and at his touch, her magic flared again, bright and hot, sending an aching need through Cece’s entire body.
She’d waited so long for him, had spent so many days denying what belonged to her, refusing to take what was hers, that she hissed at him like an angry cat when he bent his head to kiss her breast.
“No!” She lifted his head, her fingers digging into his scalp. “I need you, Briggs. Don’t deny me what’s mine.”
He was just as frantic as she was. She could see it in his face and how his body shuddered above hers as he tried to maintain control.
