He started to move,slow at first, letting them both adjust to the overwhelming sensation. But slow didn’t last. Thirteen days of restraint, of careful distance, of wanting and not having,it all broke at once.
Marcus drove into her with increasing urgency, and Hazel met him thrust for thrust. The bed frame creaked. Sparks rained down like stars, disappearing before they hit skin.
“Harder,” Hazel gasped. “Marcus, I need, ”
“I know what you need.” He adjusted the angle, hitting something inside her that made her see actual stars. “That? Is that what you, ”
“Yes,fuck,don’t stop,”
He didn’t stop. Kept hitting that perfect spot with maddening consistency, one hand braced beside her head, the other sliding between them to find her clit.
“Come for me,” he said roughly. “I want to feel you… want to watch our magic when you?—”
She came with his name on her lips, and the magic between them went white-hot. Purple and gold light blazed across the ceiling, and she couldn’t tell if the shaking was hers or the bed frame’s.
Marcus followed moments later, burying his face in her neck with a sound that wasn’t quite her name but close enough. His whole body went rigid, then boneless.
They collapsed together, breathing hard. A few stray sparks drifted down like embers.
“Did we just—” Hazel started.
“Yeah.” Marcus kissed her shoulder, her neck, her jaw. “I think we broke physics.”
“Is that normal? The light show?”
“No idea. Never happened before.” He pulled back to look at her, wonder and love written across his face. “But then, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you.”
Hazel’s chest constricted. “You love me.”
“Completely. Impossibly. Probably unwisely given the circumstances.” He brushed hair back from her face. “But yes. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Hazel said. “Even though you’re terrible at hiding and your camping skills are nonexistent and you’re going to break my heart in seven days.”
“I’m not going to?—”
She kissed him before he could make promises neither of them could keep. When they broke apart, she said, “Again.”
“Again?”
“I want you again. We have seven days left. I want to make every hour count.”
Marcus’s expression changed. “Demanding witch.”
“Your demanding witch.” She rolled them, straddling him. “Now let me show you what thirteen days of sexual frustration looks like when properly channeled.”
What followed was messier, louder, absolutely filthy. Hazel rode him with abandon, chasing her own pleasure while Marcus’s hands gripped her hips hard enough to bruise. The magic never fully faded, just pulsed between them, building with each movement.
“Touch yourself,” Marcus said roughly. “I want to watch you.”
Hazel’s hand slid between them, finding her clit. The sensation combined with the fullness of him inside her made her moan.
“That’s it,” Marcus encouraged. “Christ, look at you. Taking what you need,”
“Shut up and thrust,” Hazel gasped.
He did. Drove up into her while she worked her clit, both of them chasing release. When she came this time, it was harder, deeper, her whole body shaking with it. Marcus followed her over, and the magic exploded again, painting the room in impossible light.
They collapsed, tangled together, skin to skin, magic still sparking lazily between them.
