A fated pair.
I’d never heard of a giant and a human being fated. It was supposed to be physically impossible. The gods were arseholes, though. Binding me to the last surviving McCrum would be exactly the sort of thing they’d cook up as punishment for my defeat at the battle of Mag Tuired.
A low growl built in the back of my throat as my attention slipped down her body, admiring the way her tiny frame looked trapped beneath me.
I lifted a hand from the pavement, fingers brushing over her lips where I’d kissed her. My breath caught in my lungs as I waited to see if that first touch had been a fluke. The girl’s breath halted beneath my fingertips as she held hers too.
“Impossible…” I muttered as the back of my knuckles trailed down the smooth column of her neck.
My fingers cupped the base of her throat, and my cock twitched at the way her pulse fluttered against my palm. My hand wandered lower, skimming between her breasts over the shamrock logo on her sweater.
“No human has ever withstood my touch before. It’s been so long…” A delicious gasp tripped from her lips when my hand cupped her breast over her sweater. “Since I’ve touched a woman.”
My hand continued its journey down her body, feeling her curves, marveling how damn wee she was. My hand nearly swallowed her entire side as I gave her waist a squeeze.
“S—sto…p,” she huffed, the word not at all convincing while she was moaning and squirming beneath me. Even if it were, I couldn’t stop. Giants weren’t known for their restraint. Especially not when I’d gone eight blastedcenturies without pleasure.
My fingers slipped beneath her sweater, skimming the soft flesh of her navel.
Her pulse lurched into overdrive. But she didn’t fight me. Because she knew there was no hope of fighting me off, or because she too felt the strange magnetic force drawing us together. It didn’t matter. I didn’t care.
My brain was in a roar.
Rut her.
Fuck her.
Claim her.
I palmed her bare breast, marveling again at the sheer size difference. Maybe I couldn’t burn her, but surely she’d still break if I indulged that dark little voice in the back of my brain telling me to fuck her right here in the street.
I gave her nipple a pinch, testing just how delicate she was. She squirmed beneath me, face contorting with pain. But I didn’t miss the way her entire body heated beneath me, or the feminine scent leaking from between her thighs. It might have been ages since I’d been with a woman, but the aroma of an aroused female was unforgettable.
“You’re quite the little curio yourself, wee one,” I hummed, my attention slipping back to her sweater readingMcCrum’s Curios and Antiques, enjoying the way her nipples peaked against the fabric.
Before the cultist’s bullet had broken my curse, I’d been drawn to Maeve. I’d written it off as an obsession, for ending her bloodline. For getting the peace I thought her death would bring.
Now that I had my body back, feeling her perfect skin against my own, I knew it was more than that. It was more than the allure of touching another person after so many years of being trapped. Especially when humans had meant nothing to me before. Back in my old life, they’d been nothing but annoying little creatures whose bones I’d have to pick out of my toes like splitters when they’d gotten underfoot.
This was the work of the gods and their twisted sense of justice.
Maybe I couldn’t end the McCrum bloodline. But at least now, I could draw out Maeve’s punishment. Punishing her by making her little mortal pussy break around my cock would be far more entertaining.
“If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with you bastard,” she snapped in a moment of courage.
“Change of plans, wee one.” I flashed her a dark grin as I pushed her skirt up over her waist to expose the little cotton panties covering her center. I could still scent that pathetic male on her. Soon enough she’d smell like me. “It seems the gods have something else in store for us.”
Chapter Eight
Maeve
Pinned against the ground, I felt reduced to prey.
This man, if he could even be called that, was going to hurt me. I wasn’t all that scared at first, back when he’d made me believe it was going to be quick. Painful, sure. But over in a matter of seconds, minutes at most.
All hope of a quick death went down the drain the moment he kissed me.
There was sinister magic in that kiss.
