“Are your pretty nipples sensitive?” he asked.
She nodded, and his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. “Touch them.”
Hoping she didn’t look dumb, Cece cupped her breasts. Maybe if she pretended Briggs wasn’t here, she wouldn’t feel so self-conscious. She closed her eyes, but popped them open immediately when Briggs growled.
“No, baby. Look at me while you touch those pretty tits.”
Hot sparks of need exploded in her belly, and she caught her breath at the look of pure lust on Briggs’s face as he stared at her breasts. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had looked at her with that level of desire. Hell, she didn’t think it had ever happened. Her nervousness faded away, and confidence took its place.
Briggs wanted her. He thought she was beautiful, and watching her touch herself turned him on. That was more than obvious.
She traced circles around her nipples with her thumbs before rubbing them. They hardened, and Briggs growled his approval, leaning forward until she could feel his warm breath washing over them. They tightened even more at the feel of his breath, and she moaned quietly, her back arching a little.
“That’s good, baby,” he praised. “Can you pinch them for me?”
She pinched them lightly, gasping his name when he growled again.
“Good,” he repeated. “Keep going.”
For long minutes, she teased her nipples, tugging and pinching, rolling them between her fingers, until their soft pink turned a deep rose colour and each gentle pull felt like a direct line of hot need to her pussy.
“Briggs,” she moaned. “I need more.”
“Lie on your back, baby.” He took the vibrator from her lap before she could, holding it in one big hand as he tugged the blanket from her lap. She lay on her back, propping one of the sofa pillows under her head. Her skin glowed in the firelight, and she felt as gorgeous as Briggs said when his gaze roamed over her hungrily.
“Take off your pants,” he demanded.
She lifted her hips, shoving her pajama bottoms down. Briggs grabbed her pant legs as they slid past her feet and helped yank them off, tossing them on the floor.
Her nerves made a sudden reappearance, and she kept her legs raised and tightly closed, her toes digging into the couch cushions. Briggs’s hands hovered above her knees, and Cece’s breath caught in her throat.
He was going to touch her, and not only would she feel the intoxicating pull of her magic, but he would give her an amazing orgasm that would probably change her damn life. Instead, showing a restraint that she could only admire, Briggs pulled his hands away.
His voice a low rasp, he said, “Open your legs, baby.”
“Briggs, I…”
“Open them.”
Her legs were parting before his growling demand finished. Cool air washed over her throbbing pussy, and her entire body shuddered when Briggs made another growl. His blue eyes now rimmed in dark brown, he said, “Wider, little witch.”
She let her legs drop open, her breath coming in soft pants as Briggs’s hot gaze lowered to her pussy. He devoured her with his gaze, a growl escaping him with every breath he took.
“Perfect, pretty cunt,” he muttered almost to himself, and her pussy throbbed as hot desire washed over her. Careful to keep his body from touching her legs, he leaned closer, his head between her thighs and inhaled deeply.
“You smell so fucking good, my mate,” he rumbled, one big hand gripping the back of the couch until his knuckles whitened.
“Briggs,” she moaned. “Touch me.”
“I can’t, baby,” he said, regret thick in his voice. “But I want you to touch that pretty pussy for me.”
She dipped her hand between her legs, rubbing eagerly at her clit, crying out at the pleasure it brought to her as Briggs growled again. Her magic was pulsing in her veins, little flickers of light that only heightened her need. She wanted to touch Briggs, needed to touch him, but when she reached for him with her free hand, he shook his head and leaned back.
“No, little witch.”
“Please,” she whimpered. “Briggs, please.”
He shook his head, and she glared at him as the plants on the bookshelf rustled. “I could make you touch me.”
