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They’ve got the magicae to amplify their voices, to change the speed, even the power to infuse their words with feelings. They’re magicaelly charged, and it was amazing.
I’m floating on ecstasy when we get home, the high of my date with Ciar racing through me, and instead of reappearing in the kitchen, or the living room, or just any communal space, he’s tunnelled us away to my bedroom.
“What about the others?” I whisper. He smirks, and lifts me into his arms. The small touches, the longing looks, the sneaky kisses from this evening have all built up, and the desire I see in his dark brown eyes probably echoes in my own.
“Zohar will probably crawl his way into your bed in a few hours like he normally does,” Ciar says, mumbling his words across my lips. His tone is husky, seductive. “But the others can wait to see you when it’s morning.” He raises an eyebrow, once again, giving me the choice. My men are perfect—at least to me. “As long as that’s okay with you?”
“Mhm,” I reply, pressing my lips back to his now that that discussion is over. He groans as I run my hands through his hair, exploring his mouth with my tongue, as he sits down on the bed with me now in his lap.
His arms go from holding me, to letting his hands roam all over my body. The touches only heighten the moment, and I groan as he squeezes my bum tight in his hands.
“You tell me to stop, we stop,” Ciar commands, his voice husky with desire, but he still pauses to make sure I’m okay with this.
I nod, biting my bottom lip.
“Seriously, I’ll stop,” he repeats.
“I trust you,m’anam,” I murmur, and his eyes flash in recognition at the Irish term. I think that’s when I lose him, when he loses all rational thought, and he gives into the desire he’s slowly been building.
He throws me—literally—onto the bed, before crawling up my legs. He hovers over me, his dark brown eyes a few shades darker as he gives me a gorgeous toothy grin.
“May I?” he asks, motioning with his head to my skirt.
“What?” I ask, sitting up on my elbows as I try to understand what he’s saying. “What do you want to do?”
“You said you trusted me.”
“I do.”
“Then lay back and watch how I’ll earn that title you just gifted me.”
A blush coats my cheeks, but I dutifully obey him. I lay back, but tilt my head so I can watch in the mirror. It feels extremely intimate, watching him touch me, and then also feeling the way he’s touching me.
His hands run up my thighs before he uses his powers to make his hands cold. The sensation as he brushes his fingertips across my stomach, even over my shirt, causes me to gasp.
Ciar attempts to gently pull my skirt down my knees before getting frustrated and tearing it.
“Holy wow,” I gasp, and he winks at me just as his head lowers. He maintains eye contact, as his tongue traces along the lining of my underwear.
My eyes fly shut, but then he stops the movements, and I whimper at the loss of touch.
“Keep watching,mo sholas, or I stop,” he says, and waits until I obey before resuming. He grabs my underwear, and tugs, snapping the elastic. I watch in amazement as he throws them across the room before looking at my bare bottom half.
“Um—”
But I get cut off when that delicious, tantalising tongue licks me. Not once, not gently, not even carefully.
No, he legit goes to town, and what starts off as an awkward and surprising moment—on my end, since he’s thoroughly enamoured with it and radiating confidence—turns into something hot, something new, something erotic.
I gasp as his tongue circles that bundle of nerves, tingles spreading across my entire body. Goosebumps appear on my arms, the feeling of warmth radiating through me.
He’s using his magicae to draw mine out, to enhance the moment even further. I’m panting, watching him as he still makes eye contact, the momentum building and building within me.
Until it just stops.
And then I scream his name as power bursts out of me as my orgasm overtakes me. I’m riding out the waves, my knees clenched together, grinding against his tongue.
I don’t know how long it takes before the magicae settles and the pleasure fades from being so overwhelmingly intense to a soft, dull reminder of what we’ve just done.
