Most befuddling.
“I know you do,” he whispers. “You’re constantly engineering it.”
“Am not,” I whisper back.
“That’s all right.” His lips graze my temple, brushing overhair and skin. My eyes slide closed. “Once you admit to yourself what you want,that’swhen the real fun can begin.” He sighs against my cheek.
What I want.
What do I want? I know exactly.
“Is it me that you like?” I ask, swallowing, twisting my fingers in the fabric of his shirt. “Or is it my magic?”
He tilts up my face, commanding me to meet his eyes. “The only thing I want from your magic,” Morgan tells me, each word grave and deliberate, “is for it to keep making you happy.”
And he kisses me.
My first lucid thought isMorgan has known exactly how he would touch me, if he got the chance. He’s thought about this. Dreamed of it with methodical thoroughness. I can feel the release of a tight and heavy yearning in the sweep of his tongue, in the way he rolls so that he’s positioned halfway on top of me. He’s known just how he’d angle his head, anticipating where my hands might wander along his body, how I’d arch mine to seek his.
The kiss deepens, the pressure lovely. It isn’t enough. I need more hands so that I can touch all of him at once, I need to be the ground and the air and his shirt, I need…I need…I moan under my breath when he rubs against me just right, the hard ridge in his jeans notching between my legs, and he stiffens for a second.
His breaths are shallow. “Make that sound again. No, don’t, actually. I don’t have spare pants to change into.”
I hold him tight against me and rock; this time, Morgan’s the one who groans.
“Fuck. Fuck, fuck,fuck.”
“Yes, I’d like that.” I’m a flame. All I want is friction and his mouth, I want to see that easy smile fall open into pleasured gasps. I want, I want, I want. “You,” I say softly. “I want you.”
Morgan stops breathing; my chest is pressed against his, so I can feel it. He stares at me, the emotion in his eyes startling the shadows away; the lantern brightens as though responding to freewheeling particles of electricity, and we devour each other.
He unbuttons the fastening of my jeans. I peel his shirt over his head. Pants and underwear, all our layers, until Morgan is (oh mygod, magnificent) dropping kisses onto my naked skin. He murmurs curses and praise, firm hands loving my thick thighs, my wide hips, my soft stomach. My fingernails gently graze down his nipples, his abdomen, to the hard cock jutting between his legs, and he shivers.
“I’m finally going to have my way with you,” I say wonderingly, half-delirious, and he buries a fist in my hair.
“You’re so damned beautiful. Poor thing.”
“Poor thing?”
“Don’t you realize? You’re never getting rid of me.”
And with what he does next, I can’t imagine ever wanting to be rid of him.
Morgan tastes me, reverent, filling his hands with my breasts, dragging his tongue over my nipples. I stroke up and down his back, letting my knees fall apart as he sinks between them. Words that don’t make any sense spill from his lips to caress my mouth as he positions himself at my entrance. “Yes?” he asks.
“Yes.”
Morgan pushes into me, slowly, my hips rising up to greet him.
“It wasn’t your desk, it was you. It was your energy, it was…the magic telling me:Wait right here. She’ll be back soon.Didn’t even know what I was waiting for, really. Just knew I had to stay put in that spot.”
A light laugh flutters from my throat. “What are you talking about? Ohhh, my. You feel so good.”
“I’m talking about…” He falters, his features relaxing into bliss. “Oh, it’s only everything.You.Sweet lord, Zelda. Do you even know? I’m still not sure you have any idea.”
I love that he can’t think straight.
“I know that I am feeling incredible right now,” I reply. “Don’t be offended if I don’t come, though, all right? Sometimes I don’t, and when I do, it usually takes a while.”
