Perfect house for a set of witches and their magical library.
Esme throws the car in park, shuts off the engine, and turns to face me.
“Get ready,” she warns.
“For witches?” I ask.
“No. For me to up my game. Right now. Are you ready?”
I bite my lip to keep my laughter at bay. She’s too fucking cute, wanting to out-seduce me. Not like she needs to work at it. She walks into a room, and I’m already looking for a surface to bend her over. Still, I’m not about to complain.
At my nod, her smile grows wicked.
“I love the way your beard feels against my thighs.”
Damn her.I palm my dick through my pants and swallow hard. “Yeah?”
She nods slow. “Whenever you see me looking at your mountain-man facial hair, I want you to know, in that exact moment, I’m thinking about riding your face.”
“Fuck, Esme.”
I go to claim her mouth, only to get held up by my seat belt. As I wrestle with the strap, she giggles and escapes the car. When I get out, I have to tuck my hard cock into my waistband to hide what her words did to me.
“You’reevil,” I tell her as she pulls a box from the trunk.
“Then, we’re a perfect pair.”
My mate gifts me with a chaste kiss on the cheek, and I silently vow to make her come so many times on my tongue that she forgets her own name when we get back to her house.
The inside of the house looks like a library in progress. Some books are on shelves, but most are in stacks around the dim rooms.
“Thanks for these.” A curvy white woman with russet hair accepts the box in Esme’s arms. “I’m hoping to build out our sections on the different mythic groups.” Her eyes flick to mine. “I’m Morgana Shelly.”
“Sulien Blaythorn.”
I’ve decided to use my real name, parents and past be damned. Still debating on trying to find the legal documents my parents had for me or getting a new set forged. It’s not the most uncommon thing among our kind. A safety measure some use.
“Would you be willing to verify the validity of these texts?” Morgana asks me as I set down my box of books on one of the few clear surfaces in the room.
“Sure.” I feel no loyalty to my kind. No reason to keep their secrets.
“Are any of those grimoires?” The question comes from the stairs, where a woman with hair as red as Morgana’s and pale skin, covered in freckles, descends.
“Sorry, no.” Esme moves to my side and smiles at the new arrival. “Just dragon stuff. Sulien, this is Amethyst Shelly. Ame, this is my mate, Sulien.”
A bolt of pure pleasure goes through me. She’s called me her mate before, but this is the first time she’s used it in an introduction. I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling the lovely harpy into my side.
“Bummer. About the grimoires. Not about the mating. That’s a good thing.” The witch’s green eyes meet and hold mine, and I feel like she sees more than I mean to reveal. Suddenly, the woman smiles wide. “You’re exactly what Esme has wanted all this time.”
The words are odd, but also kind of endearing. Before I can think on them more, a territorial growl sets my hackles up. But then I see the noise emanates from the throat of a small black cat lingering on the steps.
“This is Bee,” Amethyst says. “Don’t take the aggression personally. He doesn’t like anyone.”
I meet the cat’s dark eyes, and for a moment, I’m held by the intense stare. There’s something in the depths, more than animal.
Understanding. Intelligence.
Rage.
