With preternatural speed, he pulls out of my body and flips me over.
I'm so dazed it takes a moment for the move to register. “What are you–
“Not done yet.”
He drags my hips up, and pushes back into me from behind. My pussy accepts him greedily, hungrily. Like I was made for this, for him.
I cry out as he bottoms out, the new angle allowing him to go even deeper, to fill me even fuller.
And he begins to move again.
It feels darker. More intense.
“Fuck, you take me so good like this,” he growls. “Like you were made to be ruined by me.”
He wraps a fist in my hair and pulls my head back, whispering into my ear, “You feel that deep ache in your belly, love? That's me. You'll still feel me tomorrow.”
I'm fully babbling now — half his name, half cries of desperation — lost to the rhythm and the way he drives into me like he's carving his name into my soul. Every stroke is a confession; every sound is a prayer answered.
When he finally loses control, it's wild.
He snarls, his hips driving hard as he buries himself one last time and comes with a broken, desperate shout, my name a roar on his lips. I can feel his thick, hard cock kicking inside me, and shudder at the image of his hot cum filling me, even as I feel it flowing down the insidesof my thighs. his whole body shudders over me, his forehead dropping to my shoulder. He places a chaste kiss on my spine and struggles to catch his breath, arms shaking.
We lay like that for a long moment, breathless, shaking. Bound together by sweat and magick and the sound of each other's hearts slamming in their chests.
He pulls out carefully, letting out a satisfied little hum at the mess he's made of me, then lies beside me, gathering me close to his chest like I'm something sacred.
I tuck my face into his neck, still dazed.
“I think I forgot how to breathe,” I murmur against the erratic beat of his pulse against my lips.
He presses a kiss to my forehead. “I think I forgot how to feel until you let me fall apart inside you.”
I don't know what to say to that, so we lie in silence. Bodies tangled, hearts finally beating in sync.
I smile and turn my head, resting my head against his chest and relaxing, the steady thud of his heart grounding me. I feel myself starting to drift off.
I imagine I hear Flint say, quietly, “I love you.”
I smile into the dream, satisfied and content. “Me too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Chapter 23
Betsy
I’ve been dangerously angry since Flint called last night after Casie had gone to sleep, to tell me everything — the discovered texts, Brett breaking into my shop. I had hoped that by letting her handle it, she would make the discoveries she needed. However, we aren’t there yet, and thisboyneeds to be handled. Flint can defend quite well, as can Ember, but some things require a… special touch. Unlike the two of them, I can look, I canseeand I know that our Ember isn’t the only victim he has.
I leave the kids in charge at the shop and make my way home. Not the home here, in this world. Myrealhome.
The building itself seems to hold its breath as I storm through the rooms I’ve inhabited for centuries. As I make my way down the curving stairs to the stone holdbeneath the earth, candles flare to life along the walls. Not that the light is necessary after so long. I can, and have, made this journey blind, with no light to guide my footfalls.
When I reach the landing, I wave my hand and concentrate. The thick, wooden door opens for me, as it will for no other.
As I will…
I rake my hands through my hair, displacing the glamour that I’ve been using to dampen myself. Yes, it’s obnoxious to intentionally make yourselfless,but it was the only way to accompany Ember. While I may not protect with sword and shield, my gifts are more varied, yet no less potent.
