Betrothed

by Lola White

  His cock pulsed, his balls hummed. The muscles of his ass clenched and held, his spine clamoring and his brain exploding with little pops and crackles. Magic trailed sharp fingernails over his skin and roared in his skull.

  He hoped he’d done enough, because he couldn’t hold back anymore.

  He slid all the way into her, her cream easing the journey as her body stretched around him, taking him eagerly, rippling over his length. He forged deep in a slow glide, reveling in the texture of her, the grip of her pussy. Tight, scorching, she wrapped his dick in satin, took him like his finest fantasy and gave him no relief at all.

  He only wanted more.

  He drew a shuddering breath when she tightened on him in a rush, tip to base. He sucked her nipple and she gave him a gasping moan, her hips jerking, dragging him a little deeper—deeper than he’d thought he could go. Her juices pooled on his balls, smashed tight between their bodies as she angled toward him, using the meager leverage of the desk’s edge for all it was worth.

  He lifted her thigh higher against his side and slipped in a little more. Reality fractured. Arrogance took over.

  He withdrew as he’d entered, inch by inch, driving them both mad. He nearly left her, deaf to her senseless protests, barely aware of her bucking hips as she tried to bring him back. His lips lifted from her breast to take her mouth, deep and hard, welded together with no room left for anything but heat and dueling tongues and sheer need.

  Then he rode her forcefully, regulating his rhythm ruthlessly, maximizing their pleasure at the cost of his sanity. He hit the highest part of her, the deepest depths, felt her pussy contract and expand in the same instant her delicate walls seized him. He was embedded in her body and her magic, sensing her in a way he’d never sensed another.

  On and on, over and over, until she was a writhing mass of blind need, a pile of pleasure left on the desk for him to mold to his will. The world ceased to exist beyond her heat, the feel of her skin sliding against his, her pussy wrapping his cock. Instinct was all she’d left him with, a deep need to draw the moment out, to make it special. To anchor her to his side and his soul, his for all time, no matter the obstacles.

  His need of her went deep.

  His pace increased, the tempo growing urgent. He pounded into her. Her body shifted with every thrust as he drove her higher against the desk, leaving her utterly at his mercy. Faster and harder until he was shoving into her body. His tongue surged against hers in a mimicking invasion, filling her mouth as his cock filled her pussy. He lost all finesse, she lost all control.

  She bucked, jerking wildly, her thigh muscle shaking hard at his waist. She ripped her mouth from his and her cries echoed in his ears, mingling with the uneven drumming of his heart. Satisfaction snarled. Arrogance grunted.

  She exploded around him, blowing his mind. Her pussy squeezed him in an unbearably hard grasp, clutching and working over his length as her body flooded. Cream slipped between her walls and his cock, burning him deliciously, addictively.

  With Herculean effort, he pulled from her shuddering body and had the extreme pleasure of driving back into her while she convulsed, forging through tightening tissue. He dragged his flesh through her folds, mindless now, ecstasy swamping his brain and his body, pushing him further, tossing him higher.

  Magic erupted in the base of his spine and sent lava surging to his brain stem. The world went black around him. His ears rung hollowly as the force gathered and the power of it was a backdraft—sucked back into his spine, only to implode in his groin.

  Every nerve he had pulled tight and ripped apart. Surging heat released, detonating in his balls, blasting from his cock in a hot wave of pleasure. He shuddered against her, filling her with all he had as her convulsing body milked him and took it eagerly.

  Shock waves streaked through them both as their hearts struggled to settle. They both shivered, small groans ripping from their throats, their groins glued together and still pulsing with pleasure. Eliasz panted against Ileana’s neck, desperate for equilibrium. He’d never come so hard, had never found such satisfaction.

  He forced his hand to cooperate, to lift from her smooth, dewy skin to find the ties of her dress. He tugged and the material slipped free, releasing her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her completely, settling her on the desk as her legs curled around his waist. She held him tight and he loved it, cherishing that moment as he relished the previous.

  The magic retreated, their bodies cooled and his cock slowly softened inside her. He tilted her face to his as soon as he could breathe normally and gave her a long, slow kiss. Dominating her mouth, reminding her, burning the knowledge of his possession into her soul. She slumped against him and he gathered her close.

  Many minutes later, he pulled from her and helped her get dressed. He stared at her as he pulled on his pants, studying her swollen lips and air of distracted vagueness. A lazy spark of refreshed desire swam through him, a fierce shaft of satisfied possessiveness piercing him.

  The knock on the door had him frowning, spinning in surprised outrage. He jerked it open and found his father fidgeting.

  The man’s eyes moved past him to focus on Ileana. “You’ll avoid a lot of awkwardness if you retire for the night. Alexandru actually thought he could take on Georgeanne Davenold and win. There was a bit of a scene and your absence has been noticed.”

  “What happened?”

  Fredrik nodded at Ileana, ignoring Eliasz’s question. “You, my dear, are strongly advised to stay out of your grandfather’s sight until morning. No matter the excuse you need to give.”

  Eliasz gritted his teeth. “What happened, Father?”

  “Georgeanne set Alexandru in his place, which is, unfortunately, beneath her.”

  Behind him, Ileana groaned.

  Fredrik looked deep into his son’s eyes. “You’ll need to come with me, Eliasz.”

  Chapter Nine

  Ileana

  Ileana hid her wince behind a polite smile as she settled into her seat at the breakfast table. Small muscles deep within her pulled and tugged, a satisfying ache that sent thrills of remembered pleasure through her.

  Eliasz was more than enough for her to handle, more than enough to fill her. He’d escorted her upstairs and left her at her bedroom door last night with a gentle kiss filled with wicked promises. She couldn’t wait to see what else he would do and had spent half the night plotting her next rebellion in his arms.

  Keeping him on edge, making him work for it. Holding his attention with the challenge she offered, and maybe gaining more than she’d ever expected with her eventual surrender.

  Next to her, Georgie examined her face with lifted eyebrows. “We missed you at dinner, Iley.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  Georgie grinned. She opened her mouth to say something else, but Adam dropped into the chair at her other side. She turned to give him her attention. Ileana saw her throw a glance in the direction of some young blonde woman at the opposite end of the table.

  “She’s magically weak, but powerfully flexible,” Adam whispered. “But I think you should know—”

  “Hush,” Georgeanne warned sharply. “Later.”

  Ileana blinked and focused on her toast. After a silent minute, she looked up to study the breakfast room. Morning sun poured through the trio of windows dominating the wall, making the chandelier overhead unnecessary.

  Unlike last night, the Family now gathered upstairs. While the ground floor hosted the reception room, formal dining room and the business offices of both Fredrik and Eliasz, the upper floors were dedicated to the Family who lived on the estate. On her way to breakfast, Ileana had passed countless parlors and sitting rooms. Her bedroom was just one of at least twenty on the third floor alone.

  “Breakfast is more informal than last night’s dinner,” Georgie said, breaking into Ileana’s thoughtful perusal of the delicately patterned plates.

  “I would think so.” She shrugged and reached for her coffee, tha
nkful that the Levys had provided a brew thick enough to stand her spoon upright in. She loved the vile stuff and needed a hefty dose of caffeine that morning. “There were hundreds of people here last night. They can’t still be here, can they?”

  “No, something like twenty live here full-time. There are a few who came from farther afield for the party who stayed the night, but most of the Polish Family members live close by and they went home.”

  “You know a lot about it.”

  Georgie smirked. “Some of us didn’t disappear last night. Some of us mingled with the Family and asked questions that would, no doubt, be of use.”

  “Is that disapproval in your tone?” Ileana refused to be embarrassed. She lifted her chin, letting her voice grow chilly.

  Georgie laughed with real amusement. “No.” But then Ileana heard her mutter, “Maybe jealousy.”

  “Really?”

  “Hmm?” Georgie looked up with innocent eyes. “What was that?”

  Ileana shook her head. “Never mind. So, how was the rest of the party?”

  The woman grimaced and nodded toward the opposite end of the table. Following the gesture, Ileana saw her grandfather staring at them with narrowed eyes. His lips were pulled taut and his jaw was set, a clear indication of his anger.

  “Uh-oh.” Ileana quickly turned back to Georgie. “That’s not good.”

  “He’s not happy with me, but whatever. He tried to put me on the spot, so I had no choice but to upset him.”

  “How?”

  Georgie waved her fork. “It was nothing, Iley, don’t worry about it. Your grandfather just thinks that patriarchal Families are better than matriarchal Families, and I disagreed. In the process, I solidified your standing and helped build a consensus for your match with Eliasz.”

  “No wonder he looks so mad.” Ileana saw no fear in Georgie’s eyes. “Be careful.”

  “That’s what Silviu said.” The woman shrugged. “I’ll be fine. There’s nothing Alexandru can do to me personally, and the four of us together can counter anything else he might think of.”

  “He’s unpredictable.”

  “Then we’ll just have to keep on our toes, won’t we?”

  Ileana pulled in a deep breath and tried to be optimistic. “Maybe it’ll all work out.”

  Adam leaned past Georgie, shaking his head until he swallowed his bite of sausage. “No, listen, that’s what I was trying to tell you.”

  Georgie spun on him with fire in her eyes. “Adam, now isn’t the time to regale us with your night—”

  “Listen.” He glowered, dead serious and determined to say his piece. “Her, too, Georgie.”

  Georgeanne’s lips pulled into a thin line but she nodded. “You will say it quick, and keep your voice down.”

  “Not everyone is happy with this match.”

  “We knew that already.” Georgie leaned back in her chair, allowing Adam to press closer, until the three of them had their heads rudely huddled together.

  “Worse than you thought, Georgie. Constance’s mother had been determined to marry her daughter to Eliasz, not Graves Ngozi.”

  “The betrothal was ordered seven years ago. They’ve been hammering out the Ngozi deal in earnest for the past year.” Georgie frowned. “What makes you think Anne Gage-Levy wanted to marry her daughter to Eliasz?”

  Adam shrugged without remorse. “I read her diary.”

  Ileana’s eyes goggled. “What?”

  “She was asleep.” He gave them both an evil grin. “Shouldn’t leave things out and about when you have a stranger in your bed.”

  Georgie snorted. “By that, I take it you searched through the woman’s luggage?”

  “Didn’t have to,” he sniffed. “I called it to me with a conjuring spell.”

  Ileana waved, dismissing their minor byplay. “What did it say?”

  “Anne wanted her to marry Eliasz, but Daniel’s grandfather ordered her betrothed to Graves. Anne’s not happy with the arrangement. Seems Graves is on the outs with the Ngozi Family and lacks the authority she wanted for her daughter.”

  “How long ago did Anne propose the match to Eliasz?”

  “Roughly twelve years ago,” he said. “Apparently, Eliasz is one of the strongest male witches in the Family.”

  Ileana hummed. “The Levys marry powerful women, but it doesn’t tend to translate into powerful sons, though they keep trying. That’s why Eliasz is at a disadvantage. Daniel doesn’t want to combine his magic with a political position.”

  “Interesting that Daniel’s been acting the Father for seven years now,” Georgie said, “and hasn’t changed the order concerning Ngozi.”

  “He’s only held the true authority for a month,” Ileana pointed out.

  “But still hasn’t changed the order.” Georgie glanced up, eyes roaming the table while she visibly counted heads. “There’re too many people here to continue this discussion. We’ll have to talk about it later.”

  Ileana ignored her and leaned closer to Adam. “Does Eliasz know any of this?”

  Adam shook his head. “How the hell should I know?”

  “Don’t tell him we know, just yet.” Ileana pulled back.

  Both Davenolds looked at her with surprised suspicion. Georgie’s eyes finally narrowed. “Why?”

  “Oh, you know,” Ileana strove for a breezy tone, “Family, and all that.”

  Both Davenold’s eyes became small slits. Ileana snatched a breath at a flutter of panic at facing their combined suspicion. Adam’s magic rose—a soft glow that spread out to beat at her skull, silently probing for her secrets. She held still, closing off her senses to block his questing talent.

  Georgie’s eyes suddenly flew wide and her palm slapped against Ileana’s forehead. “Move!”

  The force of the blow shoved Ileana’s head back, wrenching her neck painfully. The arm of the chair bit into her hip as she tumbled and something streaked through her vision. The streak struck against an unexpected force field with an explosion of muted silver sparks and slid past Georgie’s eyebrows on a slightly altered trajectory.

  A knife, its lethal sharpness completely unnecessary for breakfast, smacked into the wood of Georgie’s high-backed chair with a singing, quivering force.

  Ice instantly invaded Ileana’s body, freezing her to her chair as the knife’s handle shuddered mere inches from her face, and even closer to Georgie’s. Both women stared at each other with wide eyes, blank with shock until Georgie’s dark stare went molten with rage.

  “Are you okay, Ileana?”

  “Y… Yes.”

  Georgie leaped to her feet, scanning the stunned crowd around the table. Alexandru, too, jumped up, his face reddening, silver eyes sparking like mercury on a hot day.

  “Who dared?” he screamed.

  Fredrik pushed back his chair and rose more slowly, his legs visibly shaking, his face pale. Rushing around the table, he reached for Ileana. “Are you all right, my dear?”

  She gave him a trembling smile and nodded. “Georgie saved me, I believe.”

  The Davenold woman stared at Alexandru distrustfully. Lowering her voice until only Fredrik and Ileana could hear her, she murmured, “He’ll use this to reject the betrothal.”

  Fredrik blinked and put his arm around Ileana, bringing her an odd sense of comfort. Her own Family would never think to do such a thing in public. Even in private, only Silviu would offer her a steady arm to lean on.

  “What happened?” Fredrik asked.

  Georgie shook her head, still staring at Alexandru. “I saw it from the corner of my eye.” She raised her voice a little. “Adam?”

  The Davenold male was busy studying the occupants of the table with all his senses. Magic sparked and snapped across his shoulders, taking on a golden hue as his twin sister approached to lay her hand on his nape. He shook his head, anger making the gesture jerky. “I didn’t see.”

  “Damn,” Georgie breathed.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  Eliasz�
�s voice dropped into the thick silence with all the weight of a boulder. Ileana flinched, nerves drawn to the breaking point as she tried not to huddle in her future father-in-law’s arms. Relief spread through her like wildfire at Eliasz’s entry, nearly taking her legs out from under her. Only willpower kept her on her feet as the shock began to sink in, shaking her body until she couldn’t speak.

  Next to Eliasz, Silviu glared at Georgie, his eyes flicking between her angry expression, Ileana’s wide-eyed fear and the knife, only now slowing its telltale shiver. Her brother’s face tightened, his lips pulling so straight that they were nearly non-existent.

  His voice dangerously soft, a tone that never boded well, he turned to his betrothed. “Georgeanne?”

  Without looking at him, she answered. “Someone at this table just tried to kill your sister.”

  “What?” Eliasz sprang into action, nearly vaulting the table to get to Ileana and snatch her from his father’s hold. His hands ran over her, easing some of the glacial chill from her skin. “Are you all right?”

  Before she could answer, Adam grunted. “It wasn’t necessarily Ileana they were after.” He and his twin turned identical blue eyes on Alexandru, leaving the old man foundering under the combined weight of the Davenolds’ stares. All three of them watched him closely, evaluating his reaction, obviously taking careful mental notes.

  “Don’t look at me like that!” he thundered. “I would never try to kill my own granddaughter. It was a Levy!”

  “What do you mean, Adam?” Silviu demanded softly.

  “The knife passed less than an inch in front of Georgeanne’s face,” Christiana answered for him. She arched her eyebrow at Alexandru. “I doubt the Levys would wish to provoke Madeleine’s wrath with an attack on her potential heir, sir. You, however, have plenty of reason to be angry with her, don’t you?”

  “Nonsense! She will also be my granddaughter. Family.”