Those words. That whisper. Those fucking boots and the purple lace thong and that smart little mouth and…
I rise from the chair to my full height, wings unfurling, claws bursting free. She backs up toward my desk, bumping into the chair behind it and letting out a little yelp.
Glaring down at her startled turquoise eyes, I say darkly, “Take off everything but the boots and panties and get on your knees, Miss Avery.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and cocks an eyebrow, but we’ve come too far in our little game to back down now.
In a low growl, I make the demand once more. “On. Your.Knees.”
Fire flickers through her gaze and I wait for her to call my bluff. To tell me to fuck off in all the cute and clever ways I know she wants to.
But the little mortal merely lowers her arms.
Grins.
Removes the leather halter top. Steps out of the skirt. Stands before me in her lacy-thonged, black-booted glory…
And then drops to her knees.
Fuck. Me.
Her dark pink nipples stand at attention, each one begging to be sucked.
I still haven’t been able to rid my mind of the memories from our drive home the other night, try as I might. I’ve mostly avoided her since, not wanting to blur the lines any more than I already have.
It’s too risky. Dangerous, especially now that we’re dealing with dark fae runes and memory loss and whatever else we’ve yet to uncover about the vast mysteries of Westlyn Avery.
About her connection to us, to our curse.
Logically, I know I should walk away. Every cell in my body is screaming at me to do the honorable thing. The responsible thing. Therightthing.
But as she gazes up at me through those dark lashes, her eyes daring me to cross yet another line between us, her tongue darting out to moisten those lush, red lips, my mouth already watering for a taste of those tits, all sense of honor and responsibility and rightness vanish.
I cup her face, sliding a thumb across her lower lip as I free my aching cock from beneath the loincloth. It’s rock-hard for her and hot to the touch, pre-cum beading at the tip.
“Are you going to suck it for me?” I whisper, sliding the tip across those painted red lips. “That’s what you want?”
“Please,” she whispers, hot breath swirling across my flesh. “Let me taste you, Daddy.”
“Take it,” I command. “Show Daddy how good you take his cock in your mouth.”
She opens wider for me, lips wrapping around the end, her tongue sliding along the underside and—
I go still. The scent of intruders—fae and human both—and two pairs of footsteps linger just outside the door.
In a blur, I’ve got my glamour back in place and my witch shoved under the desk, hidden from view a mere instant before my door bangs open.
I drop into the chair just as two figures charge through the doorway—Kevin Klaiburn and Joshua Barrons.
“I’m sorry, Draegan,” Joshua says, clearly flustered. “The man refused to wait.”
Beneath the desk, I press a finger to Westlyn’s lips, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.
Joshua knows I’ve got a guest tonight, but that’s all he was told about the matter.
And Klaiburn?
He doesn’t need to knowanything. Westlyn was supposed to be locked away in my bathroom by the time he got here, well and truly out of sight.
