by Lola White
She sent her hands sweeping over his broad shoulders, tracing the long lines of hard, male flesh. She trailed her hands over his chest, driving her fingers through the golden hair, pressing against his pecs as they flinched under her palms. She traced the ridges of his abdomen, dipped into his navel.
Her hands moved down, then swept back up, retracing her path, grazing him with her fingernails. She left pale pink streaks behind, but she knew he loved it. His pupils flared, swallowing the blue of his eyes until the color was nearly gone, leaving only a thin ring behind. His skin flickered and flinched, his muscles jumped.
But Eliasz still wouldn’t be rushed.
He shifted, though—gripped her hips. “Stand up, Ileana. Take your pants off.”
She eagerly complied, heat blazing through her, need twining around every nerve. Knees weak, her thighs trembling, Eliasz steadied her as she stood. Wasting no time, she toed at her shoes, pulled at the button of her jeans and shucked them off. She hooked her fingers under the waistband of her panties.
“Stop.”
She stilled at Eliasz’s command. He shuffled forward and spread his knees, pulling her between them, the soft fabric of his trousers rubbing the outer curves of her upper calves. His big, warm hands caught her hips and kneaded as if he couldn’t help but close his fingers on her.
He leaned forward and licked over her lower belly, trailing fire. “You have the softest skin.”
Her hands curved around his skull as he pressed delicate kisses on her, hip bone to hip bone. His tongue dipped into her navel, swirling evocatively. He breathed over the glistening line he left behind.
He smoothed his hands over her hips, dragging her panties down her legs to catch at her ankles. She stepped out of them and kicked them away as his mouth followed the fabric, drifting lower as he revealed her to his sight.
“Spread your legs, Ileana. Let me see.”
She braced her hands on his shoulders and did what he asked. A shivering vulnerability washed over her, but instead of fear, it called desire. Confidence sparkled through her, more than a sense of the power she held over him, more than a sense of the safety he offered her. A mutual need, a connection that grew between them every day.
Like he’d done at her breasts, his fingers flowed over her. He traced her curves and crevices, dipping into the cream that slipped from her, coating his fingertips as he rubbed her honey over her delicate flesh. He left no nerve unaffected, no small place unattended. Heat and electricity caught her in a shivering caress.
“I want to feel your magic.”
His head shifted, his hair sliding over her, his tongue darting out to flick her clit. “I want you to feel me, not my magic. Not yet.”
His tongue slid between her folds, slipping over her clit and lower. He groaned and lapped, telling her how much he liked the taste of her. Ileana caught her breath, fingers gripping his hair as she rose to her toes, legs spreading farther, giving him more space to press closer.
“Lie down on the floor, Ileana.”
He pulled back, lips glistening, eyes lifting to hers, and lust fisted in her groin. It took effort to release his hair before she collapsed to the floor, lying back as her brain seized, knowing she was gracelessly sprawled across the rug and not caring.
He got to his feet and stood over her, examining every inch of her body, while she, a supplicant before him, wriggled against the rasp of the carpet. She felt the heat of his eyes, the weight of his gaze. He loomed over her, his natural dominance fighting to the surface, surveying his conquest.
He kicked off his shoes and removed his pants—slowly, teasing her. Her pussy clenched at the sight of his hard cock, standing proud, as the thick shaft visibly stretched, gaining another inch as she watched. She shifted on the carpet, felt the abrasion against her ass, and spread her legs.
She could feel the slide of honey on her skin. Need was a living thing inside her, a screaming counterpoint to his determined slowness. It coiled in her belly, whipped through her core. It pulled her tighter and tighter, stoking the flames inside, electrifying her nerves.
He knelt between her legs and she reached for him, but he caught her hands and pushed them to the floor. “No.”
“I want to touch you. Taste you.”
His eyes slid closed even as he shook his head. “No.”
Instead, he tasted her. Starting with a fiery kiss that seared her lips, he licked and sucked and nipped his way down her body. For the third time, Ileana was covered in single-minded attentiveness, his lips coasting over her throat, her breasts, licking her nipples and tracing the curve of her belly.
“Why are you doing this, Eliasz?”
Only his mouth touched her as he knelt, hands braced on the floor to either side of her writhing body. He didn’t drag his skin against hers. He didn’t touch her with his chest or belly or fingers. The absence of his hot palms was an aching loss, but the consolation prize was nearly as good.
He angled lower, speaking against her mound. “Because no one has ever treasured you, and they should have.”
He took her breath, through words and actions. He licked through her slit, sucked her clit, and she rose for him helplessly. Her hips bucked, desperate to push closer. Her body hummed and sang, her pussy flooded and throbbed.
He sat back on his knees, licking his lips, eyeing her most intimate places. His hands cupped her shoulders and swept down her body with perfect pressure, owning her and making sure she knew it, following her curves smoothly until he reached her thighs. Then he dragged her over his folded legs.
She was spread according to his wishes, her flesh parted deliciously, temptingly. She knew what he could see, knew what it did to him by the look in his eyes. She did feel treasured and she loved it. She loved the expression on his face as much as she loved the wicked sensation of falling open—the thrumming pleasure of such an action—as if every nerve hidden in her folds were preparing for something grand.
He didn’t disappoint.
The tip of him notched against the heat of her. Her pussy stretched, the delicate muscles at its opening rippling and easing, shooting sparks to the tops of her thighs. Deep within, the coiling need seized, quivering with expectation.
He pressed into her slowly, not nearly enough. Heavy and hot just inside her, and her body worked at his length, trying to pull him in farther through sheer willpower. His face went hard as her inner walls milked his cock.
“Do you have any idea how sexy this looks, Ileana?” His eyes were glued to the place where he slowly joined with her. He rocked in another inch, only to withdraw and repeat the push, brutally controlled. “The tip of my cock lodged inside you, the sight of your pussy swallowing me up?”
“I bet it looks hungry,” she managed to moan. “I wish I could see.”
“I’ll get a mirror, next time.” He pushed in, deep and quick, and withdrew just as fast. He dragged in a breath, his eyes narrowing, still staring between her legs. “Then you can see what my cock looks like, shining with your cream, your pussy melting all over it.”
His fingers left her thigh and darted down, their tips sliding against her soft flesh to the side of his entry. He followed the curve of her opening, pushing until she felt his hardness inside her in a whole new way.
He lifted his hand to show her the honey that clung to his fingertips. Deep inside, Ileana twisted with need. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked them clean. Her belly jolted and she bucked against him, taking him a little deeper before he caught her hips and stopped her.
“Stay still.”
He put his hand against her wet flesh again, sliding and circling, pressing the delicate ring of muscle, driving it against his cock from all directions. He gathered her cream and lifted his hand, this time to her.
“Taste it, Ileana.”
His finger spread the moisture over her lips and she parted them without thought—unable to think. She licked her lips, tasted her essence and opened her mouth for his entry. He slid his finger in. She sucked it
clean, licking and biting, wrapping her tongue around him.
His eyes blazed, locked with hers and his cock surged deep. One long push, heavily filling, forging his way through her pussy, through her soul. She was stuffed with his length, feeling it rest behind her belly button, hot and taunting, pushing at her inner walls. She was slick around him and gushing more.
Ileana arched, legs shifting, shoulders shaking against the carpet. She couldn’t hold his stare, she had to tilt her head back fighting for breath, staring at the ceiling as she struggled not to explode instantly.
He pulled from her completely, leaving her empty and aching. Her eyes flew back to his, but he stared at her clenching opening. Tension soared, strangling her spine. Her hips lifted, trying to tempt him.
“Eliasz?”
“You’re so damned beautiful it hurts my eyes.”
He leaned down, bending over her, clutching at her arms. He pulled her until she sat awkwardly, her weight braced against his palms urging her higher. She caught his shoulders as he tipped her up, toward him, her legs sliding over his. He gave her a moment to adjust, let her fold her legs around his waist before he pulled her close.
Face to face, eye to eye, lips to lips—he held her and they were on equal footing. She felt the shift as she had before, that elusive emotion, the certainty that he was giving her something new. Something precious. She was wrapped in his arms, he was wrapped in hers.
He rocked and the tip of him found her, nudged in. Ileana tightened her legs around him, arching to help him slide deeper. She wriggled and writhed, bearing down on him. He pulled at her hips, spreading his knees wider until she slid down his thick shaft and he could go no farther within her.
He held her still, stared into her eyes. His breath rushed over her mouth in rough pants, her breasts were molded to his chest, his heart beat against hers. His arms were locked, rigid around her ribcage, her own were stiff and trembling, her fingers buried in his hair.
“You’re mine, Ileana. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Your Family can’t have you back.”
She shook her head, leaned forward to brush her lips against his, fighting tears. “You’re my Family now, Eliasz. I want to stay with you, even if they won’t let me marry you.”
He flexed his spine, his cock dragging along her walls, pushing back in. “Not just for Silviu. Not just for politics.”
“No.” Her voice broke as he surged in forcefully. “And you, not just for the benefit a wife can give you?”
“No, for what you give me.”
Breathlessly she agreed, and Eliasz’s control finally shattered. His magic rose and swirled around them, calling hers. Silver sparked and spun, eddies flashing over their bodies, filling the room with a singing power.
It poured over them both as they strained together. Eliasz thrust up, Ileana sank down. Silver waves dipped between their bodies, found the nooks and crannies, stroked hidden nerves. Ileana’s skin blazed with metallic flame, her blood boiled.
He moved her, pulled her and tugged, guiding her over his shaft as her muscles locked. Her inner walls clamped down on him and rippled hard, dragging a ragged groan from his chest. The magic caught the sound and bent it into sensation, shooting into Ileana’s spine, exploding in her belly.
Her brain was ripped from her skull and her nerves were lashed by pleasure. Her fingernails dug into Eliasz’s scalp as her head tipped back, magic stealing her vision, ragged cries tumbling from her mouth. And still the energy vibrated against her.
She tightened until Eliasz could no longer move within her. All he could do was push, push and push some more, to the very end of her, his pleasure destroying her. He came in a hot flood, flying with her over the edge, floating and soaring, silver sparks shooting in front of her eyes.
Heat and light, electricity and lust. They combined and merged and exploded until there was nothing left of them but nerves. And through it all, Ileana held tight to Eliasz, as he held tight to her. Convulsing and shuddering, fire consuming her from the inside out, he held her safe and she held him close.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Silviu
“Get off me!” In spite of his shaky balance, Alexandru pushed away from Silviu and Georgie with a surge of strength.
Silviu caught his betrothed as she reached for the old man. He’d be damned if he let her get too close while his grandfather was in such a mood. Alexandru snarled and backed up, batting her away. Silviu anchored her to his side, watching his grandfather carefully—as he would a cornered, venomous snake.
His arm went rigid around Georgie’s waist, rage twisting his gut. It took supreme effort not to just kill the old man where he stood, but where he stood happened to be the middle of the second floor hallway in the Levys’ home.
It wouldn’t do to kill his own grandfather in another Family’s stronghold.
“You’re lucky we’re even helping you.” Silviu’s voice dropped to a whisper, nearly inaudible even to his own ears. His nerves were jangling, and his throat ached at the effort of keeping his tone even. “I could have happily left you to drool on the parlor floor.”
“Oh, don’t look at me like that, you sanctimonious child,” Alexandru sneered. “Your sister deserved it! She let a man who is not her husband in her bed.”
“He will be her husband.”
“Not if I reject the match.”
Fury crystallized. Silviu released Georgie to step forward, deliberately trying to intimidate his grandfather for the first time in his life. “They will be married.”
“I am the Father. I will decide who she marries, or if she marries at all.”
“Make no mistake”—Silviu’s voice took on a hard edge—“Ileana will marry Eliasz. There is no reason to refuse the betrothal and everything to gain by the alliance.”
No longer fuzzy with the spell Silviu had thrown at him, Alexandru’s eyes went molten, calculation and arrogance brightening their hue. “I will reject the match.”
Georgie spoke before Silviu could stop her. “Why would you, when there’s so much to gain? What would be the point? It’s better to let them be.”
Alexandru spun on her. Silviu took half a step in front of her, defending her with his body from the fury in the old man’s eyes.
“Don’t say it, Grandfather,” he warned. “Whatever is in your head, I suggest you keep it to yourself and just go find a quiet place to settle your nerves.”
Alexandru wouldn’t heed the advice. “You dare tell me how to deal with my own Family?”
With an irritated glance at Silviu, Georgie pushed past his shoulder. “Ileana hasn’t ever gotten anything she’s wanted. Why shouldn’t she have Eliasz, when the match benefits the Lovasz Family as a whole?”
Silviu grabbed her wrist. “Georgie—”
“What do you know of it?” Alexandru spoke over him.
“A lot more than you,” she shot back. “I hear the rumors and the laughter that you seem all too willing to ignore. I hear how the Lovaszes break their agreements, how they’re untrustworthy and greedy. I hear how they try to barter the only female in the Family, while everyone else pities her.”
“She’s acting the whore! I have never sent her to any man’s bed yet she gets here and spreads her legs for that low-born dog?”
“That’s enough,” Silviu warned, frustration rising at the slur.
“Eliasz is far from low-born.” Georgie’s tone revealed the offense she felt on her friend’s behalf.
“Tertiary,” the old man barked.
“And more fair, honest and loyal than you’ll ever be.”
“You are the problem with the witching world,” Alexandru spat. His eyes narrowed to glowing slits, hate a nearly tangible force as he raked his gaze over the Davenold female.
“That’s enough.” Silviu’s hand tightened on Georgie’s wrist.
“I’m the problem?” She lifted her chin, ignoring him. “No, it’s outdated schools of thought, like yours, that cause all the problems witches face. Have ever f
aced.”
“Georgie—”
“The women should have realized their place a long time ago!” Alexandru screamed. “They are beneath men, beneath notice, beneath dignity!”
“Women ruled the Families long before men like you ever came along, arrogant and too damn patronizing for their own good.” Georgie vibrated with anger. “Men like you dragged our ancestors into a war that lasted centuries! How many died because of men like you?”
Alexandru’s hands fisted at his sides. “Women are weak and willful, just look at that whorish granddaughter of mine.”
Georgie took a step forward, face flushed. “Ileana is going to marry Eliasz! Leave her be!”
Alexandru cackled harshly. “Oh? Have I hit a nerve? Are you in my grandson’s bed, acting the whore, too?”
“That is enough!”
Silviu teetered at the edge of his patience. Their voices had grown progressively louder. Farther down the hall, people were emerging from various rooms, curiously watching the show. Silviu didn’t dare turn his attention to them, however. Georgie and his grandfather were both sailing full steam ahead on crashing, angry waves. The tension between them was palpable, thick and roiling in the small space of the corridor, neither witch backing down.
Georgie screamed on, as if Silviu hadn’t commanded their silence. “It’s a good thing Vasile had my betrothal set in blood before he ever told you. He certainly knew what he was doing by going behind your back!”
It was an offense that Alexandru had never gotten over. Georgie’s barb had hit deep, and the old man’s temper flared beyond all reason. “He knew I would never have let a strong Lovasz son marry a weak, manipulative little bitch from a Motherhouse!”
Alexandru called his magic visibly. The hall filled with seething silver light, brighter than Silviu had ever seen before. Generations of strong Lovasz magic coalesced, possessed by one man, wielded as the weapon it had always been meant to be.