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He’s handsome. He’s available. He’s into me. This probably isn’t going to be a love affair for the ages, but why the hell wouldn’t I?
He slips off his boxers, and he’s hard as anything.
“Sit down,” I tell him, guiding him to the edge of the bed. I throw a pillow on the floor, kneel on it, and put my mouth around him.
He gasps, in what I can only assume is a mixture of surprise and desire. I always like to embrace my assertive side. It gets such a reaction.
I work away for a few minutes, pushing myself to go deeper in much the same way I push myself to manage a few extra reps during my workouts. His hands are on my head, and he seems faintly stunned, though it doesn’t stop him from moaning with pleasure.
At what seems to be an opportune moment, I swirl my tongue around one more time, then get to my feet.
I reach into my handbag and pass him a condom. I’m always careful—I never want to catch anything, after all—but the pregnancy risks are much higher with a fellow practitioner. According to some, it’s practically impossible for us to get pregnant by a normal person without making a full-blown ritual out of it, practically impossible to avoid it with our own kind without either medical or magical protection. And we generally avoid the pill and the like—messing with our hormones seems to do something to our powers.
“My turn,” I say, with a grin.
Connor doesn’t seem quite capable of speech.
I’d intended to have him go down on me, but in absolute contravention of all my feminist principles, I’m sufficiently aroused from the naughtiness of seducing my bodyguard, so instead, I get on my hands and knees.
I scream in pleasure when he enters me.
This is different,I tell myself, as he thrusts deeply into me, stroking me with one hand and holding onto my hip with the other.All those pretentious, right-on professionals couldn’t satisfy you. But the fault’s not with you, it’s with them. Connor’s different, and your body knows it. You’re not broken after all.
And then slowly, as he moves faster, grows louder, and holds me tighter, my mind starts to disengage, and it feels like any other polite encounter with a nice man after a pleasant enough date.
I push back against him frantically, trying to regain the magic.He’s hot as hell,I think.He’s your bodyguard, sworn to protect you. That’s pretty much every woman’s fantasy. He’s a tough guy, but you seduced him, not the other way around. That’s sexy and cool. And doesn’t the fact that he doesn’t know who you really are add a certain frisson?
“God, Kate, you’re so gorgeous. You feel so good,” Connor sighs.
He’s evidently holding on, resisting his pleasure until I get mine.
It’s weird to hear him use my fake name in such an intimate scenario. Hardly sexy at all.
I pride myself on my ability to come, even with a halfway competent date. It’s a big part of my self-image. And as well as being sexy as anything, Connor is doing everything right. I close my eyes and try to lose myself in the sensations.
Protect yourself. Hurt me. I want to feel your power.
Unprompted and unwanted, the fresh memories slip into my mind. Suddenly, Connor’s touch feels heightened, and I can hardly breathe.
Give in. Fight me.
This is insane. The Greenfire incident was horrific, and the last thing my psyche needs is some new twisted Gabriel-fucking-Thornber fantasy.
Connor. Think about Connor. He’s tough and sweet in equal measure. His six pack is jaw-dropping. He’s moaning behind me like he can’t hold on any longer but is somehow managing to do so through sheer force of will for my sake.
She belongs to me.
I come with a full-body shudder, and full-throated scream, and a crushing feeling of guilt and confusion that cuts through most of the pleasure.
The second I let myself go, Connor stops trying to fight. He comes in turn, before I’ve stopped shaking.
For a few seconds, we remain frozen in place, then we both collapse back onto the bed.
“God, that was amazing,” Connor says.
I nod. “Though… if you can bear to put some clothes on, that drink to recover from the shock and steady my nerves you offered sounds good right about now.”
Despite my cheesy chat up line about not wanting to be alone, I gently send Connor back to his own bed after we’ve had a few more drinks and another round of sex, then spend a couple of hours working on the case. Eventually, I snatch a few hours of sleep. Inevitably, with Gabriel’s magic still infusing my skin, I dream the same old dream again, more vividly than ever.
