Page 99 of Freed By the Witchbone Knife

He backed her toward the dining table, his hands already sliding under her skirt, finding warm skin seeping through the fabric of her sheer tights. “These goddamn bloody hose.”

She sucked in a breath as he squeezed the globes of her arse.

“You’re trying to kill me. I’ll not stand for it another minute.” He dropped to his knees.

Her pupils blew wide.

He ran his hands up her legs, over those sheer black hose, feeling her shiver under his touch. Then he pinched the fabric and pulled, just enough to get his teeth on them. They shredded with a satisfying tear, revealing the smooth skin of her thighs beneath. She gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders for balance.

He used his hands to enlarge the rip, all the way up to the apex of her thighs. Then he did the same for the other leg. She watched him with parted lips and flushed cheeks.

“Those were new.” The protest was weak. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

“When I give my word, I keep it.” He shredded the remainder of them, elongating his claws to help, stripping the ruined fabric away until she stood in just her skirt, boots, and that scrap of black lace covering her sex. The scent of her arousal hit him full force and his mouth watered.

“I’ll buy you a hundred more pairs—likely shred those too. Now then…”

His hands slid up and down her bare thighs, relishing in the feel of her skin. “Turn around.”

“What?”

He didn’t give her time, instead, squeezing her flesh and spinning her in place.”Hands on the table, sweetheart.”

She obeyed. He rose behind her, pressing his body against her back, letting her feel every hard inch of him.

“You’ve been driving me mad all evening.” His hand smoothed over her arse, still covered by the skirt. “Prancing around in this wee thing.”

“I wasn’t prancing—” Her words cut off in a yelp as his hand came down on her arse. Not hard. Just enough to sting.

“You were.” Another smack. This time she moaned. “Prancing.”

He shoved her skirt up, baring her completely. Her black lace thong left little to the imagination, already damp at the center, if her flooding scent was anything to go on. His cock strained against his jeans.

“Axel, please⁠—“

“Please what, sweetheart?” Another smack, harder, and he watched the perfect curve of her arse redden under his palm. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want—I want your mouth on me.”

“Where?” He hooked his fingers in the string and dragged her panties down her legs. “Here?” A kiss to the globe of her arse. “Or here?” Another kiss, lower, just above the crease where her arse met her thigh.

“You know where.”

“Want to hear you say it.” He nipped at her skin and she gasped. “Where do you want my mouth, Rebecca?”

“Between my legs. Please.”

“Good girl.”

He dropped to his knees behind her, spreading her legs wider. The view nearly undid him—the folds of her cunt, pink and glistening even in the low light.

“So wet for me already.” He ran his thumb through her arousal and she jerked. “Look at you, dripping down your thighs. Haven’t even touched you properly yet.”

“Axel—“

“Going to taste every inch of this pretty cunt.” He dragged his thumb through her wetness again, slower this time. “Going to make you come on my tongue until you’re begging me to stop. Would you like that, little witch?”

“Yes.” The word came out breathless.