Page 67

“Fuck, you’re tight as a vise.”

I know I am. And he’s nearly too big for me to handle.

But my body has a mind of its own, and quite the wicked mind.

I push myself back against him, and he slips in deeper, making me gasp.

“Hold still,” he grumbles.

I can’t help but smile. “You think I’m going to start listening to you now?”

“Saturna.”

“More,” I say, moving back against him. “I want all of you inside me.”

He swears again and then pushes the rest of the way in, and I’m fuller than I’ve ever been, my fingers pressing into the stone. He waits for a beat with the whole length of him in me, both of us breathless.

“Oh, fuck,” he rasps. “I’m not sure I’ll recover from this. You have bewitched me with your body and mind, my sorceress.”

Then he starts to move.

He’s not gentle, he is something else, someone else. The man who walks into the crypts in his clipped voice with his bone kit under his arm is nowhere near this cemetery right now. Now he’s the beast that simmers beneath the surface, the devil that’s been hiding behind a stoic face all this time. He’s got one hand at the back of my neck and the other at my hip and he’s fucking me into the headstone, and his breath against my ear is rough and uneven and he’s saying things that I can only half hear through the pounding of my own heart.

“If you could see what I see, see how well you take me,” he practically growls.

I’m making sounds. I don’t know what they are.

“That’s it. Open up for me. God, you’re…you’re so fucking wet.”

He goes deeper.

“You feel like heaven, my darling. Like sin wrapped in silk.”

He pumps harder.

“If you could only see what I see, see my cock disappear into you like this, the way you hold me, like we were meant to be joined this way. Fuck…”

I gasp, the breath knocked from my lungs as he pushes in to the hilt.

“Do you feel me, sorceress? Do you feel every hard thick inch inside your cunt?”

I try to answer but a cry escapes from my mouth and into the quiet of the cemetery.

Immediately his hand comes off my neck and claps over my mouth.

“Quiet,” he hisses.

I nod against his palm.

“They’ll hear you across the water. Quiet, witch.”

His hand stays there as he continues to fuck me, slower but deeper, and the slap of him against me is loud enough to wake the dead, the very dead that are everywhere beneath our feet. This whole time I thought it was just the two of us here but now I realize we’re performing for an audience, one that rarely talks back.

His hand stays over my mouth. His other has gone from my hip up the small of my back and into my hair, and he winds it around his fist and pulls hard enough that my head comes back and my spine arches and he goes deeper by a fraction and I’m gone, I’m done, I’m about to leave it all behind.

“That’s a good girl. That’s it. Come on my cock like a good little witch.”

My body obeys before my mind can catch up. In an instant that wave is back for me again and I’m pulled under, tumbling and twisting in some other world, my limbs boneless, lungs breathless.