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First, I needed to help prepare her.
I rolled onto my side beside her, sliding my hand between her thighs.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
I rubbed across her engorged clit with the pad of my thumb, and she bucked her hips up into my hand, clearly looking for more.
“I’m just getting you ready for me,” I said, then slid my long middle finger down her pussy lips and into her wet channel.
She gasped and opened her thighs further for me, grinding up against my hand. I wanted her as hot and wet and as close to orgasm as possible. I played with her body, teasing her clit, then thrusting first one, then two fingers into her tight channel.
When she was writhing and moaning, I knew it was time.
I rolled over her body, positioning myself carefully above her, and settled between her open thighs. “Time to make you mine, beautiful woman.”
She nodded, gripping my hips, and I reached down and grabbed my cock. I set the head at the entrance to her pussy, like an arrow ready to push inside her for the first time ever.
Then I froze. I literally couldn’t move. My muscles were locked in place and all I could do was let out a strangled groan.
What the actual fuck was happening?
The door to the bedroom blasted open and a man strode in.
No, not a man. A warlock. His eyes sparkled with a purple magic that looked eerily similar to Monique’s.
I both heard and felt my mate’s shocked gasp beneath me.
“Michael?” she whispered, as I struggled in vain to move.
The warlock speared me with a look that would have killed a lesser man. The purple of his eyes darkened and his mouth was a thin slash, until he spoke.
“Get your fucking hands—and your cock—off my fiancée.”
THE END
