“Good girl. Now cum for me.”
The colors of the sky bleed darker with the sound of his words, the pretty pink turning brighter, stormier, bloodier. I slam my lips against his filthy mouth, and the flick of his tongue is all it takes for my orgasm to come crashing down like sparking embers burning all through my veins. He holds me there, his nails biting into the back of my neck while he kisses me with bruising strength. His other hand strokes me slower between my thighs. He eases me out of that orgasmic bliss while I cling to him with both hands like he’s the only thing grounding me to this world.
. . . heisgrounding me to this world.
Because this isn’t real.
None of it is.
With a shuddering gasp, my lashes open slowly. The sudden dimness of the bedroom is all around us. Everything is dark and heavy. The magic he gave me no longer hues the world in magical colors. The ocean is gone. And so is the sunlight. And so is all of that freeing bliss. A thick quietness surrounds us now. The slamming of my heart and the pulsing between my thighs is the only indication that anything happened at all.
The only thing that’s truly real is the way I’m straddling his lap, my nails sinking deep into the back of his neck. As for Seven, he’s just holding me ever so lightly at a very platonic place on my hips. The unbuttoned shirt hangs around my shoulders, my breasts pushing firmly against his smooth chest.
Confusion clouds my thoughts. I pull back ever so slightly.
None of that was real.
His watchful eyes search my face and the uneven breaths that fall from my lips. The peaks of my nipples graze his chest with every exhale, and it’s only then that I feel incredibly inappropriate.
“Oh my god.” I scramble out of his arms and clutch the shirt closed around myself. “I?—”
Does he know?
How exactly does his magic work?
Only my legs are touching his now when I scramble back and put as much space between myself and his incredibly full—incredibly distracting lips.
“How—”
The door slides open slowly, and both of us fling our attention to the man filling the doorframe.
Rorrick’s piercing gaze slides from his friend to me and then back again.
“Let’s go.” He nods, and then he’s striding down the hall away from us.
Seven’s hooded eyes hold mine as he gradually stands. The hard outline of his cock straining against his dark pants has me even more curious about the unreal moment we just shared.
The door’s left open, and I feel like the strangest captive that has ever been held hostage. Is it customary for your captors to give out free orgasms and sultry smiles and so much distracting energy that I might never want to see the human world ever fucking again?
His palm lingers on the doorknob, and his kind eyes find mine once again. “There’s water on the dresser for you.”
It’s a polite and formal offer. Not at all a tone that someone would use with a girl that just came against his hand...
My lips part, but I still can’t even catch my breath before he’s gone. The door clicks closed softly.
He leaves me with the trembling energy of an orgasm that never happened and more confusion than I’ve ever felt.
ELEVEN
Seven
“You fucked her!”Rorrick’s practically storming around the desk with rage.
“I did not,” I say calmly.
I take a seat in one of the intricately woven chairs that sits in front of Christian’s desk. His sister made him these chairs last spring for his day of life. Her magic is rooted in nature. As was her mother’s. As is Christian’s, in a way.
“My shirt was nearly falling right off her!”
