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Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jack
Claire was shaking. So was I.
In the past week, I’d seen Claire nearly taken from me twice. Carrying her into the cabin, I placed her on the sofa and began looking her over.
“I’m fine, Jack,” she protested as I began running my hands along her body, looking for any spot where a simple brush or touch might cause her to wince. She leaned back against the cushions, studying me as if I were nothing more than a pitiful child. I was centuries older than her, but sometimes I felt like she was the older one, suffering through my bullshit.
“It hurt when I hit the tree, but other than being a little sore, I’m fine. It could have been a lot worse.”
I couldn’t think about that. When I’d seen her lying prone against that tree, I’d thought she was dead. I’d never felt so out of control. Gone was any semblance of rationality. The only thing I wanted to do was destroy the people who had hurt her.
If I had my way, everyone who had ever laid a finger on her would suffer the same fate.
“Jack,” Claire said, bringing my attention back to her face. “I’m fine. Mostly.”
“Mostly?” I asked, looking over her once again, trying to spot what I had missed earlier.
Looking back at Claire’s face, she raised an eyebrow at me. My heart thundered in my chest.
“It appears that seeing your mate go into a berserker rage to avenge you sets off a witch’s heat.”
Gods, how I wanted her to be my mate. I still wasn’t sure what we were experiencing. Sebastian’s new information had unnerved me. But right now, there was no denying the way her body was responding to me. My nostrils flared as I scented the sudden flood of her slick.
“Show me where it hurts, Claire,” I commanded. Her eyes grew dark. She hesitated, and I wondered if my vocal Claire had gone mute and timid. But then she toed off her shoes, raised up, and pushed her jeans over her hips, sliding her jeans and panties down in one fluid movement.
Her sweet pussy glistened in the dim light that shone from the kitchen. I’d been in such a hurry to get Claire into the cabin and look her over that I hadn’t bothered with any lights. I regretted that omission because now I wanted to see every beautiful inch of her.
She raised a leg, wincing a little. I nearly stopped her, but her expression stopped me dead in my tracks. Hooking her right leg over the back of the sofa, she bared herself to me. She reached down, running a long, slender finger up and down the length of her slick cunt.
My cock was as hard as granite as I watched her play with herself. She flicked a digit over her clit, already so swollen and needy. Then she moaned at the sensation. The sound sent a shot of electricity straight to my balls.
Finally, I found my voice. “Does my sweet little witch’s pussy need some attention?”
For a while, she’d been in control, but at my question, I saw that control shift. She closed her eyes, taking in my words. Claire loved dirty talk and she loved it even more when I took charge. I moved to my knees before the sofa, running my hand up her thigh. She rewarded me with a whimper as I ran my hand back down her leg toward her knee. She hissed, pissed that I had moved away from that part of her that needed me most.
I laughed, bending forward.
“Don’t get testy, Claire.” My mouth was now hovering over her slick heat. The warmth of my breath alone was sending her. “Raise your shirt, darlin’. Let me see those beautiful tits of yours bounce.”
She was close to hitting a second heat. Little aftershocks, she had called it. The first part of a witch’s heat was the most intense. A witch typically cycled through her heat, needing her mate over and over again until she was perfectly sated.
Claire had spiraled back into hers multiple times for a week after she’d first succumbed to her heat. Likely because I had made her wait so long.
I was determined to make up for it.
As she reached for the hem of her top, I watched, still not touching her, as she pulled the shirt over her tits. Something about seeing her bare them, but not completely remove the top made me feel like my balls were going to explode. When she pushed her fingers into the cups of her bra and then pulled the fabric down, letting her breasts spill forth, I groaned.
“Now, Jack.”
I kept my eyes on her face as I let my lips encircle her clit, my tongue flicking against it. Then I began to suck. She jerked, her luscious tits bouncing with the movement. I groaned against her pussy, and she jerked harder. Maneuvering my arm beneath me, I pushed two fingers into her slickness and crooked them upward, tickling that swollen, eager flesh inside.
“Fuck! Jack!” She rode my face and fingers, her hips bouncing to a rhythm only we could hear. Her fingers reached down, threading through my hair, tugging and pressing me harder into her smothering heat.
She came with a shout, flooding my mouth with her slick. She was going to need my knot badly in a few seconds. Just as badly as I needed to be buried deep inside her.
I flipped her onto her stomach, unbuckling my belt. Loosening my pants, my cock sprang free, hard, angry, and ready to rut. There would be no waiting or finesse. I needed my witch now. My knot was unwilling to wait any longer, wanting to fasten itself inside her sweet little cunt and lock us together.
