Page 50 of Witchy Woman

A soft groan is his response as he lines us up. He slowly grinds against my ass, one hand palming my breast.

I chuckle. “Seems you’re thinking about something, too.”

“I’m thinking you should always sleep naked,” he says, other hand slipping down to collect the wetness that has gathered and twirl it around my clit. “I’m thinking waking up with you in my arms is the best goddamn thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“Please,” I whisper. How I can still be so hungry for him is astounding.

“Anything for you.”

With a hand on his length, he guides himself to line up and pushes in from behind, keeping us spooning.

It happens again. The weirdest witchy thing I’ve ever experienced as I feel what he feels. Whatwefeel.

“God, is it like this for you, too?” I ask, relishing the soft, lazy rhythm inspired by our soft, lazy morning.

He chuckles, fingers moving back and forth between my clit and where he spears me open. “I could never explain how good you feel.”

“Flattering, but—” I gasp on a deeper thrust “—not exactly what I meant.”

How do I explain it?

Lips fall to my neck, pressing softness to the bruises I caught sight of for a moment in the mirror last night. I won’t be able to hide them, and I don’t want to. I belong to someone, and the evidence of that on my skin is everything.

“I could spend the rest of my fucking life inside you,” he says, panting in my ear like he just ran a marathon. “Tell me what you feel.”

“You. Fuck, Ash, I feelyou.”

His fingers still at the exact place his cock enters me. “That’s me, Goldilocks, spearing you open. That’s me filling you better than you’ve ever been filled. That’s me staking my goddamn claim.”

“Oh,” I gasp. I need him closer, I need more, I need. “Please turn me around. Please, I need to see you.”

He pulls out, maneuvering me until I’m underneath all his broad muscles. His smiling face and shoulders block out the entire world in the best way. “I’m here, Laura.”

I drag him down for a kiss, digging my nails into his back. The prickle of pain radiates in my skin as if it washisnails scraping my skin.

“I’d like to try something. May I?” he asks, eyes open and clear of any morning fatigue.

I nod. I trust him with everything I am, and everything I have.

A mischievous smirk twists his lips as he unwraps my arms from around his neck and presses them above my head.

Before I can say anything, vines slither in from the open window. They’re slow, cautious, as if they’re not sure how I’m going to react. They slip through the slats in the headboard and down until they wrap around my wrists.

“Sex magic?” I ask, testing my new bonds. “Who knew you had a kinky side.”

“There’s so much to me that you don’t know yet,” he practically growls, sliding back inside me in one confident thrust. “I can’t wait to explore every single decadent thought I’ve ever had about you.”

My legs circle around him, my heels digging into his toned ass. “Show me.”

His speed picks up, sweat making his abs glisten in the morning light. This perfect person is all mine.

I struggle against the bonds, wanting to sink my fingers in his hair or leave more crescent moons on his back. But not being able to makes it hotter. The resistance. The desire left unfulfilled.

He lifts my thigh, bringing my leg up to rest against his shoulder. It changes the angle, causing the very tip of him to hit that miraculous spot that nothing other than my big purple dildo had found until Ash.

My back arches underneath him, the hard points of my nipples scraping against his chest. I moan his name, surrendering to the onslaught of pleasure.

“I could survive on the way you say my name alone.” He’s close, he’s so close and I’m almost there. “I could feast on your sounds for the rest of my life and be sated.”