I lean into her, our lips brushing and whisper, “Is that a challenge, little witch?”
I seal our mouths together before she can answer. She moans, her hands sliding up my chest. Her nails dig into my skin and I groan. My tongue sweeps along hers, devoring her—relishing her taste. When her heels hook around my thighs, I pull away and rest my forehead on hers.
She sucks in a sharp breath when I guide her down onto the island. She lifts her hips and I tug her underwear off. I skim my palms from her ankles to her thighs. Leaning over her, I move my hands to her tits and the shirt rides up. A lifetime could pass and I would still be capitvated by the sight of her. She grabs my wrists and I brush my thumbs over her nipples. They turn into hard nubs, and I lick my lips.
“Omen, please,” she breathes, and I stop, earning myself a glare.
“You need to make a decision about the circle, Clara.”
Should I be doing this while I'm playing with her body? Probably not. The more I think about it, the less I care. I can't keep my hands off her now that I've had a taste of her. Now that I know what she sounds like when I'm deep inside her, there's an urgency within me. Going another minute without hearing it again would be a special type of torture.
A low whine leaves her as she digs her heels into my thighs. “After. I need…”
“I know what you want, but youneedto tell me what you plan to do.” I pinch her nipple to accent my point.
“I can't just decide on a whim,” she whimpers as I roll the hard nub between my fingers. I release it when she tips her chin up and stares at the ceiling. “I wish…”
My body covers hers and she sighs, wrapping her arms around my neck. I've never been one to cuddle, yet with Clara I can't get enough. I'm sure it's the thread tying us together. Being connected to someone is new for me. I can't tell Clara about being soulbound. It'll only influence her decision about my staying. Plus, I won't let her throw away her life for an existence in Hell.
It's been hundreds of years since a witch was in Hell. The demons would fucking lose it. There'd be meetings and councils and paperwork. So much fucking paperwork. At least she'd be safe there, but I can't risk her resenting me later.
“What do you wish, little witch?” I murmur into her neck.
“I wish there was a way to get rid of the circle, but keep you,” she whispers.
It's a good thing my face is hidden or she'd know I'm keeping things from her. I hum, hoping she lets it go. If she keeps pushing, I'll confess everything, which will freak her out and end with her banishing me. Neither of us needs to go through something like that. A loud thud echoes through the room and my shadows burst from my body, shielding her from the threat.
Clara laughs, pushing at them as if they'll just dissolve. “You're jumpy for a demon.”
The shadows form into wings, and I search the kitchen for the source of the noise. I scowl when I spot the black book lying innocently on the counter next to the stove. If only it would have fallen onto an open flame.
“Do not move,” I growl, then push off of her.
I stalk over to the book and go to slam it shut when I catch the spell. Hesitation takes over and I stare at the page. Not a spell, a description. A definition.
“Sorry. I must have put it back wonky.” Clara says, and I glance over my shoulder. “What'd it open to?”
I close the book gently, though all I want to do is rip out every single page. I nestle it between two cookbooks, then glare at the tome. I'll have to get rid of it before the damned thing guides her down the path I'm desperately trying to avoid. Keeping information from her probably isn't the best idea. If she finds out, she'll be pissed. I'd deserve whatever bullshit she throws my way at that point.
“Omen?”
I clear my throat, realizing I didn't answer her question. I could lie and make up something, but she might read into whatever spell I throw out. Then we'll be in a whole other mess. Telling the truth isn't an option.
“It was nothing.” I round the island again and run my hands up her legs. “Now, where were we?”
“Oh no. You're not going to distract me by—oh.” A moan slips out and my eyes flutter shut.
I should push him for an answer, but with what his tongue is doing, I can't really be bothered. Pleasure has rendered me useless for conversation. At some point, we'll need to talk about the future. Not now. That'd be weird. Except half my brain is focused on what the book showed him and the other is zeroed in on his long fingers slowly pushing into me.
“So wet for me,” he says huskily. “Were you this wet when you were playing with yourself? Were you imagining my fingers instead of your own?”
I whimper, which isn't really an answer. If he's wanting actual words, he's going to have to stop. If he stops, my heel will end up in his throat. I still haven't fully decided whether or not I want him to stay. The fact he finally made a move doesn't quite make up for him not coming back for six months.
After that long, I'd thought I'd banish his ass if he came back. Instead, I let him in with open arms. If he sticks around, we're going to need to talk.
Omen's lips brush mine, and he whispers, “Distracted?”
My eyes snap open and I wince. “Sorry.”
