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“You can play with them later,” she warned. “Finish this, Marcus,” she pleaded. Her voice was husky and she was so wet that her heat wrapped around them both. “Please,” she begged.
Marcus picked her up and flipped her over, careful of her wings. He laid her down and slipped one leg between hers, but didn’t sink inside her. Not yet. He looked into her face. His arms shook on either side of her head. “Give me all of it,” he said.
“You have all of me,” she said, her breaths broken as she squeezed her eyes shut.
“Give me your magic,” he said. “Please.” He wasn’t above begging.
“You give me yours,” she taunted. But she smiled. God, she could undo him with that smile. She spread her thighs, wrapping her legs around his waist.
He sought her heat in gentle jabs. “Not until you give it to me.”
She closed her eyes and shoved his shoulder, rolling him to his back. Then she climbed on top of him, her thighs straddling his. “Stop playing with me, Marcus.”
He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “I’m not playing.”
She froze on top of him. “Why do you want it?”
“For the same reason I want you,” he said.
Cecelia nodded. She sank down on the head of him, taking him slowly inside her.
“Please, Cece,” he begged.
“All right,” she breathed. She balanced herself on her hands, her palms pressed tightly to his chest. Then she began to rise and fall on him. Her broken little breaths brushed his forehead as he leaned forward to tongue her nipple. His hand sank down to her curls.
“Give me your magic, Marcus,” she whispered against his hair. He lay back and looked up at her. She was glorious with her hair hanging about her shoulders, her eyes closed with abandon, rising and falling on his manhood. Liquid heat slid from inside her to coat him and made him slippery. He arched his hips to meet her, urging her to go faster. His hand stroked across the nub that was her center, rubbing quickly in circles, just the way he knew she liked it. She cried out, her mouth open in surprise.
Magic rose from her and mingled with his. “Let me have it all,” he whispered. His magic joined with hers, shooting like sparks in the air, swirling around them, taking them higher and higher, until all the magic in the room combusted along with them. It went off like fireworks at Vauxhall Gardens. The air sizzled as her inner walls trembled around him. She stilled when she came, encasing him in quivering, raw heat. He gave all his magic to her, and she took all that he had to give her.
The room quaked around them as she came, and the bed shook as he followed, pouring himself into her. She trembled in his arms, coming apart, and their magic put her back together as she fell to his chest. She cried out, her sheath still milking him, even as she fell limply against his chest.
“Are you all right?” he asked, brushing her sweaty hair from her neck. His hands slid up and down the damp skin of her back.
“Ask me in a few minutes,” she said, yawning as she rested on top of him. He stayed inside her until he grew soft, and then he pulled out. She complained. “Don’t go,” she said weakly.
“We have a lifetime to do that,” he said, stroking her cheekbone.
“I’ll move in a moment,” she said. “I’m too tired right now.”
He liked having her wrapped around him. Her wings covered them both, wrapping around his shoulders like her arm might, and he held her there. He didn’t ever want to move.
Twenty-Three
“We’re late,” Cecelia scolded as they rushed up the steps of Robinsworth’s palatial home.
“If you hadn’t thrown me down on the bed and tried to have your way with me again, we wouldn’t be late.”
She blushed, but she was smiling. “I didn’t try to have my way with you. I did have my way with you.”
He remembered. He remembered it well. She’d rolled from on top of him and then bent her head to place it in his lap. Then it was all over within minutes. They’d only used magic the one time, and then they’d been so exhausted they slept. She’d curled into him as though she was right where she always should have been.
Marcus smacked her bottom as they walked through the front doors. “Good evening, Wilkins,” Marcus said to the old butler as the man took Cecelia’s wrap. “Where is my family?”
“They are all over the place,” the butler said, looking out over the crowd. “Shall I announce you?”
Marcus looked at Cecelia and she arched a brow. “Yes, please,” he said.
This was nothing like the last ball he’d attended. He hadn’t wanted anyone to know he was there because nothing was right without her in his life. Nothing was as it should have been that day. But everything was right now. His life was the way he wanted it.
