by Vaughn, V.
But mixed in with the scent of her was the smell of herbs and wine and the distinct odor of…magic. Not every wolf could smell it, but Clark sensed it the moment he walked through the foyer. Was it coincidence that brought him here? Or was it her?
Does it matter? He’d wanted her ever since he’d first seen her in a V-neck blouse and black fitted pants, standing behind the counter at the magic shop. He remembered she had on a large moonstone necklace because his eyes were drawn to it. Or, maybe it was the fact that it nestled so nicely over her cleavage. Yeah, he was a dog.
He could blame it on the primitive urges of the wolf within him, but he knew better. The fact was he hadn’t gotten laid in months and the couple times he’d had the opportunity, he hadn’t been interested enough to bother.
None of them had the right curves. And they didn’t smell like Cora. Her sweet scent alone was enough to give him a hard-on.
Why did he hold back now? She wanted him and he wanted her. It was simple. Well, it should be simple.
But when she touched him, his body sparked like a live wire. Every cell came alive and his blood hummed in anticipation. Yuanfen. More intense than desire, more like the universe awakening every cell inside of him, projecting a million stars through his being. The knowledge that if he took her—when he took her—there would be no beginning and no end. His life force would meld with hers, threading and twisting until he belonged only to her.
He’d suspected it before, but he couldn’t deny it now.
Once they slept together, that was it for him. He would be forever bound to her, for good or bad, sickness or health, and she would live as long as he. Which could be a hundred years, or a thousand, he wasn’t sure.
She belongs with you. Stop trying to deny it. The more you do, the worse it’ll be for you—and her.
The fact that he wanted her was irrefutable now. It was a miracle he’d kept his hands off of her this long. Every time he saw her in a short skirt, his blood sizzled. She wants you. You want her. Stop agonizing over it.
He stepped away from her, unsure what to do. Seeing his jacket on the old, black-lacquered wooden rocking chair, he pulled off his soaked shirt and tank top and draped them over it. He needed to get out of his wet pants, but if he stripped in front of her, that would only make the current predicament worse.
She pouted. “Aww, no fun.”
Unable to look her in the eyes, he stared into the fireplace, losing himself as he studied the tiny black rings of the metal screen. The meditation calmed him. For now. He knew it was only a matter of time before the beast rose to the surface.
Cora was his mate and the wolf within him knew it.
“Do you have anything to drink?”
Cora jumped up from the floor and walked over to the coffee table. She picked up the bottle of Cabernet and dangled it. “Wine?”
Bad idea. “Water?”
“All I have is tap, but there’s Coke in the fridge. Or, uh, there’s tea.”
“Coffee?” he begged.
“Sure.”
As they walked toward the kitchen, the scent of magic grew stronger. Not just any magic. The scent of lavender, basil, and rose filled his nostrils, and he paused at the threshold. She’d performed a love spell.
By the Gods, he was in trouble. Resisting the urge of his wolf was one thing. Fighting off a love spell was entirely another.
Chapter 3
“God help me,” he whispered. “You did a love spell?”
She blushed. She’d forgotten about the mess she’d left in the kitchen. How to explain? “Uh, about that…I…well, uh, when I conjured a lover, I never expected you to be the one to show up at the door.”
“Silly witch, of course you didn’t.”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”
Was he mad at her? The tone of his voice held no sharpness, and his stance wasn’t aggressive. No, not mad. He thought the spell was stupid. Of course he did. Wolves radiated enough magic to light up the city of Las Vegas with one claw, but it came so naturally to them, they were oblivious to it. They thought themselves to be superior to witches and vampires.
If he’d been angry at the thought of her coercing him, she would’ve been contrite. But that wasn’t the case at all.
“Look,” she said, putting one hand on her hip as she leaned the other arm on the counter. “Some of us are not walking-talking-sex-on-a-stick who can get anyone to throw their clothes on the floor with just a look. I work with what I’ve got, but sometimes, a witch needs a little help.”
He laughed so hard that he clutched his stomach. “Walking-talking-sex-on-a-stick?”
“Stop laughing at me, or I’ll turn your ears green!” She crossed her arms. “And don’t think that shifting will make it go away. I’ll make your fur look like glow-in-the-da—” Before she could finish the sentence, he was all over her.
Strong arms wrapped around her, cupping her ass under her dress. When his mouth touched hers, her lips parted and his tongue plunged inside. His fingers pulled her hair, forcing her to yield—as if she would fight a hot, horny lycan bent on seduction.
She slid her leg over his thigh. Warm hands slipped through the back waistband of her panties, which were already soaked. The pads of his fingers felt coarse against her delicate skin, and when he reached down to her pussy, her body wound up tight like a cork-screw. Her nipples ached, so she rubbed her chest against his.
A low growl rumbled in her ears. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he stroked from back to front, dipping his fingers within the folds of her cunt.
He lifted her onto the counter and used one claw to tear her panties off. Parting her labia with his thumb, he pressed down on her clit.
Holy Hecate. She’d never expected this much heat from such a straight-laced-goody-goody who spent all his time working when the other wolves went out to play. That’s some pent up sexual aggression right there. A lit fuse of dynamite ready to blow.
She reached for his belt buckle and pulled. “Time for the wolf to come out and play.”
He stopped her. “Not yet.”
She leaned forward and bit the curve of his neck. Wolves were really into the biting thing. “Why not? We both know how this night’s going to end.”
“But you don’t, sweet Cora. If I take you, there is no turning back. And I should say no, but I can’t resist the wolf and your magic, too.”
“Then don’t.” She finished loosening the buckle and unzipped his fly. “Stop thinking, Clark. You’re always so serious. Have some fun with me.”
“I want to, I do, but—”
She didn’t want him to talk himself out of it—or worse, talk her out of it. So she whispered a chant in his ear and swept her finger across his lips.
He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. When he spoke, the words were inaudible. “What did you do?” he mouthed.
“Don’t get mad,” she said. “It’s not that I don’t love your sexy voice.” She nibbled on his lower lip. “I could listen to you read Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs for hours on end. But tonight, I just want you to feel. The only sounds you’ll be able to make are moans and growls. If you try to talk, only air will come out.”
Taking his mouth in a searing kiss, she slipped her hands into his boxer briefs and squeezed his ass. To her relief, he moaned, and pulled her against him. She wrapped her thighs around his waist.
His hand found her clit again, teasing and stroking until she screamed so loud they’d hear her all the way in Chinatown. Tremors shook her body, hot and cold all at once, sparks of light spreading from her belly out to the edges of the room.
Had she imagined it in her sex-induced stupor? Was it her natural magic? She’d had good sex before, but she’d never seen anything like that.
“You pack a good punch, wolf,” she whispered, then nibbled his ear.
Silence. She bit back a grin as she saw his wild eyes. Dragging her nails down his back, she watched him shiver under her touch.
&nbs
p; “I think it’s time to get out of these clothes, don’t you?”
Using his body for leverage, she hopped off the counter. Kneeling down, she pulled his pants down to his ankles and rubbed her cheek across the front of his gray boxer briefs.
Finally, she’d stripped away Clark Kane’s façade, revealing the raw masculine power hidden beneath his corporate costume. She knew he’d be as chiseled as any action hero, all sinew and hard, sculpted curves.
Behind his back, she and her cousins called him Clark Kent.
What should she do with Superman now that she had him alone and at her disposal? Anything. Everything. He was a luscious triple fudge chocolate cake, and she wanted to savor every bite.
With her tongue, she stroked the hard muscles of his belly as her hands dug into the back of his waistband. Kissing his erection through the fabric elicited a hiss. The sharp sting of his hand fisting through her hair made her smile.
“Come out and play, Little Wolf. I promise to show you a good time.” What would it take to make him growl again? Though he was getting the hang of things, she needed to push him past his control.
Like a cat, she rubbed her face along his thigh, back and forth over the front of his briefs before she nipped his cock between her teeth. As he groaned, she pulled down his underwear and ran her tongue along the underside of his shaft.
She slowly licked him from base to tip, then took him into her mouth, sucking the crown before taking him so deep he hit the back of her throat. Easing off a bit, she resumed playing with the head.
His fingers dug into her scalp and shoulders. Strong, muscular thighs clenched, tempting her to touch them. Every part of him was hard now, except for his supple lips, which mouthed something that she couldn’t hear.
Though she was tempted to lift the spell, she knew doing so would be a mistake. Clark wasn’t close enough to the edge yet.
Running her nails down the back of his thigh, she sucked his full length again until her throat contracted around him and he had to grip the edge of the countertop.
She could work his cock until he came, wring every bit of cream out of him, then enflame his lust all over again. But her own pussy ached.
Cora climbed his body and pressed herself against him. Solid arms snaked around her, pressing her sex into his.
He pulled her mouth toward his. She hesitated a moment, but he wrapped his hand around the back of her head and held her in place while he ravished her mouth. This time, she was the one who moaned as he took what he wanted until she went pliant in his arms.
Holy Hecate, the man knew how to kiss.
When he let her catch her breath, she saw that his eyes had turned from amber to onyx. The wolf had awakened.
She opened her mouth but before she could utter a word, his claws extended and she heard the sharp rend of fabric as he cut off her dress. He stepped out of his own underwear.
“Hey!”
He retracted his claws but ignored her cry. When she tried to pick up the garment, he wrapped an arm around her waist and carried her out of the kitchen. No matter how she wriggled or kicked, she couldn’t loosen his iron grip.
She squealed as he deposited her onto the couch in a plop. She started to lift up, but he pressed her down with one hand and pushed back the coffee table with the other.
“If you break that table, I’ll turn your fur pink. Then you can explain to all of your friends why you look like a Care Bear. Don’t test me, wolf.”
Fierce onyx eyes turned toward her as he climbed on the couch, gripping her wrists and pinning them down to the soft cushion. He held her with one hand and tilted her chin with the other.
“Mine.” Though the words were inaudible, she understood him perfectly. Her body did, too. Her nipples tightened, and she felt a flood of heat fill her pussy.
He lowered his weight on top of her and when he lifted one thigh, she obediently raised the other to give him better access.
Two fingers plunged inside of her. She cried out, but he didn’t slow down, only pushed his digits in and out of her, testing. Teasing. She wanted to protest his rough treatment, but she couldn’t. The truth was, she didn’t want him to stop.
She wasn’t naïve enough to think that he’d be gentle and tender in bed. Werewolves weren’t known for being sweet lovers and Clark had so much pent up aggression—didn’t he ever get laid? Maybe he really was all work and no play.
Not that she was complaining.
She wanted him, needed to ride the surge of magic flowing between them until she came hard and long and felt the magic burst out of every pore.
“More,” she whispered.
He added another digit and screwed his fingers inside of her, twisting and turning as she writhed in pleasure.
As her body tensed, he slid out. He turned to wedge his side between her and the sofa. Her hands were unfettered, but she didn’t bother to move them. He lazily stroked her wrist.
“What the hell?”
He only stared at her, unable to speak. When she started to argue, he extended a claw and toyed with her nipple.
“Ah!” A pang shot through her.
When she saw his broad smile and the tinge of gold in his eyes, she couldn’t decide whether to pop him on the nose or give in and wrap her arms around him. Damned lycan.
His gaze fixed on her breasts and his hands cupped them, massaging her nipples until her legs shifted restlessly and her eyes rolled back into her head. She forgot all about her annoyance and simply yielded to his touch. Firm strokes softened to velvet caresses, warming her all over again.
His palm slid her from cleavage to belly and beyond.
“Mmmmm,” he rumbled as his finger parted her cleft and swept up and down her sex.
This time, she was the one to still his hand.
“No.” She shook her head. “Give me your cock.”
* * *
You could restrain her. Make her beg for it. But denying her was to deny himself the sweet pleasure of claiming her. Gods already knew that his cock was harder than steel.
Spreading her legs wide and high, he shifted position and knelt between them. Her pink pussy glistened, beckoning him to finally take her.
Condom. Shit, he’d almost forgotten. But she’s a witch. The chances of her getting pregnant are slim. Are you willing to take that risk? Though she wasn’t lycan, Cora was his life mate.
“Condom,” he mouthed, but she wasn’t looking into his eyes, so she had no idea he’d spoken. The loud smack of his hand on her hip echoed in his ears. Her gaze shot up to his. “Condom,” he repeated, speaking slowly so that she could discern what he meant.
“You’re a wolf,” she said, as if he were dense.
He leaned forward and took her chin in his hand and pressed his face close to hers. “Condom. Now.”
When she uttered an exasperated sound, and he thought she would argue, she merely pointed to the coffee table. “In my purse.”
His eyebrow rose. Why did she have a condom in her purse? Who was she planning on fucking?
Claws extended, and he leaned over to grab the patent leather purse. He growled as he dug into the bag, feeling rage bubble up to the surface. He grabbed the foil package and tore it open, slashing the condom in half.
Growling again, he threw the ruined condom aside and looked at the mischievous witch who’d put him into this predicament. The one who made him so hard he thought his head would explode. The one who’d broken down his car with a love spell and then stole his voice so that he would be forced to do her bidding.
The muscles in his arms tightened and his canines sharpened. Oh, no. Get control of yourself. Though he knew he wouldn’t fully shift, letting his lycan side take over was a bad idea. The wolf inside of him craved rough, demanding sex play, and he’d never forgive himself if he hurt her.
As he forced himself to breathe slowly, Cora lifted up and put a hand on his. Under the soothing pressure of her palm, his claws retracted.
“It’s okay, Clark.”
He
made a sound that was not quite a bark and not quite a growl. A soft, cool, hand rested over his heart. “Shhhhh.” Apparently unintimidated, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body to his. She nibbled on his lip, then his ear. His body relaxed, but his cock strained.
“I think you need this even more than I do,” she whispered. “Don’t worry, sweetie, I promise, I can handle it.” Her lips curved into a smile. “I baited the wolf. I won’t run from who you are, what you are.”
She snapped her fingers twice and a condom appeared in her hand. She tore the packet open and rolled it onto his stiff cock. Pumping him twice, she fused her mouth to his, consuming his lips in a fierce kiss. Her soft body melted into him as her tongue stroked and caressed his. He lowered her down to the sofa cushions and braced his arm as he guided himself to her opening. Her slick walls clenched around him. He closed his eyes and let out a moan.
Gripping the thick velvety brown fabric of her couch, he willed himself to move slowly. The need to possess her clawed his insides, demanded that he drive deep and give his dark side full rein.
Clark fought for control. He focused on the deep blue of her eyes, studying the tiny flecks of turquoise and chalcedony, noting the way the colors darkened as he slowly inched forward.
“Beautiful,” he whispered, but no sound came out.
Cora rotated her hips and dug her hands into his hair. Obliging her silent command, he thrust deeper. “Yes,” she whispered. “More.”
Her breathy voice frayed the thin thread of his composure. He let go, pushed deeper into her tight, wet, pussy. Blood rushed through his veins and the zing of electricity surged through his limbs.
As he plunged in and out of her body, he felt himself unravel. All the feelings he kept hidden, all of the desires he’d never voiced pounded through him. It would have terrified him if Cora’s arms and thighs weren’t wrapped tightly around him, anchoring him in the safety of her warmth.
He drove in faster with each thrust. She took it all, demanding everything he could give.