A Bite of Magick

by Rhyannon Byrd

  Her eyes widened—stunned, and she blinked slowly. “How the hell do you keep doing that?”

  “I canna read your mind, no’ really, but then some things are too easy no’ to pick up. Sorry, lass.”

  “Oh yeah? Then why don’t you look sorry?”

  There it was—that damn grin again. “Maybe because I’m no’ really sorry a’tall?” he said with an audacious smirk.

  She crossed her arms before her, trying for a hard look. “If you think I’m so damn delicious, then why do you keep leaving me high and dry?”

  He took a step closer, each one bringing all the sinful, sexy, mouthwatering details that were Kieran McKendrick into sharper focus. “We’re no’ mortals, Té. Our strength, even when we try to temper it, can be deadly to the gnach. It’s even harder to control during sex—much less when you’re screwing with a curse on your back. This is gonna take some concentration, lass, no’ a blind dash to the finish.”

  That spark of arousal he’d ignited at the gallery sprang to life, a hot, piercing flash of fire, building as quickly as the flames in the hearth had bloomed beneath his Magickal palms. “Kieran, I’m warning you, don’t you dare leave me on the edge like this again,” she said with a breathless urgency she hadn’t known she could feel. “I’ll go crazy.”

  He shook his head, knowing he had no choice. Nailing her on his father’s sofa with Blu on his heels was not the way to do it, no matter how bloody tempted he was. “I canna touch you and no’ fuck you—and I’ll no’ be taking you in a rush the first time I get completely into you, Té. It’ll take hours…days…to take the edge off this first time.”

  A mutinous expression crossed her face, her chin lifting at that cute, defiant angle he so loved. “Fine. Whatever. I can just take it off without you, then. God knows it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve ever done it.”

  With preternatural speed, he was on top of her, his palm cupping her crotch in a tight, possessive hold as he pressed her into the giving cushions at her back. “Dinna—dinna dare touch this cunt without me? Do you understand me? If I have to go hunting for some bloodthirsty dick from your past, dinna even think about coming without me here to eat it.”

  “You self-righteous ass,” she hissed, pushing against his chest. “Nobody asked you to do this. I can handle Lexi. Damn you and your overbearing attitude, McKendrick. And get the hell off of me!”

  “Like hell. And I’m no’ blaming you.”

  She snorted at that. “Don’t do me any favors, Kieran.”

  “Shit…I’m sorry,” he breathed against her temple, trying to pull himself back together. “I’m so fucking furious right now I canna think straight, Té. Cut me some bloody slack. All my damn blood is still throbbing in my poor dick, none of it going to my brain.”

  She’d have laughed if she weren’t suddenly so angry at his stubborn-headed attitude. “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, damn it. I’m not so useless I have to be tucked away and guarded.”

  “I may no’ have to, aye, but it’s my bloody right and one that I’m damn well claiming. No one touches my woman. No one. Ever. And that bastard is going to realize it. The second I get my hands on him, he’s going to understand with crystal fucking clarity.”

  A hard knock sounded on the closed door, and he pulled away from her, leaving her glaring up at him as he stood before the sofa. “I’ll be back by morning,” he murmured, “so try to catch some sleep.” Glittering black eyes moved swiftly over her from head to toe, smoldering with primitive hunger. “Trust me, lass, you’re going to need it.”

  And with that warning, he left her fuming on the sofa, pulling the heavy door closed behind him as he joined his father in the hall.

  “Blu is waiting out front,” Iain said, his mouth pulled into a worried frown.

  Kieran nodded, his long legs taking him quickly down the hall, his father right on his heels. “I’ll be back by morning. No telling where the bastard is hiding or how long it’ll take for us to sniff him out.”

  “Aye, and dinna worry over the lass. I’ll keep her safe, you’ve my word.”

  Kieran stopped at the door, looking back to pin his father with a hard glare. “And dinna even think of bloody touching her,” he warned.

  Iain blinked slowly, a crimson flush ruddying his cheeks beneath the silver-threaded white of his beard. “Och, I’m a little too old for her, so dinna be so bloody insulting.”

  Kieran snorted. “Aye, but just because I know it, doesna mean you do.”

  His father narrowed his midnight eyes, the perfect mirror of his son’s. “I resent the implications in that statement, Kieran McKendrick.”

  “Resent them all you like, just keep your damn playboy paws off my woman.”

  “Playboy paws,” Iain sputtered. “You insolent little—wait! What? Did you just say your woman?”

  Kieran gave him a hard nod. “Aye.”

  “So then you will claim her?” Iain asked with obvious relief.

  “After I kill the bastard who dared to lay his hands on her.”

  Iain nodded with understanding. It was only a matter of time. Maldari was already dead. A walking shell waiting for Kieran to deliver him to death.

  The Gan Bhrí just didn’t know it yet.

  Chapter Twelve

  The sky was exploding in a breathtaking spectacle of color and light as Kieran pulled up in front of his father’s house, his eyes gritty from lack of sleep and his dick heavy, still aching with unquenched desire. He looked up at the darkened windows and felt his lungs fight for air, his heart contract on a violent wave of emotion. She was in there, safe, protected…waiting for him.

  Waiting for the devil to lay claim to her soul.

  He leaned forward, resting his forehead on the cool leather of the steering wheel, not knowing how he could do it—not knowing how he could not do it. Té was everything he’d never thought he’d have, and goddamn it, he wasn’t going to let her go.

  Curse or not, their time had come. And the gods only knew he was more than ready for it, his body buzzing with a raw, sharp-edged anticipation.

  He’d wasted the entire damn night searching through the dark alleys and streets, prowling the hells of Edinburgh, hunting Maldari, but he and Blu had been unable to find him. Today, Evan would stay with Seamus while Lach and Mal and Dugan continued the search, and if he still wasn’t uncovered, then tonight he and Blu would search again.

  It was a cycle they’d repeat as many times as they had to, because there was no other choice. Hell, even Blu understood what was at stake.

  And they all wondered if perhaps this was the start—the beginning of whatever the Council had feared was coming. Had another Magick opened their power to the Gan Bhrí? And if so—who?

  None of them had a clue, but they each understood the importance of what must be done.

  Sounding far more serious than he ever had before, so unlike the carefree Blu that Kieran had always known—the wild boy of the bunch—his cousin had clasped him on the shoulder and said, “If she’s the one, Kieran—if you love her, use your power. Against someone like Maldari, you’re going to need it. He hides behind his evil and connections, and he’ll no’ be easy to find. And that’s what you have to do if you want her safe. You have to ensure he’ll no’ be a threat to her ever again. You’ll have to end him.”

  Kieran looked back up at the house and knew his cousin was right. It mattered not what he had to do to get him. All that mattered was seeing that bastard pay for what he’d done to Té.

  A handful of minutes later, he was staring down at her sleeping form curled into a tight ball on the sofa, right where he’d left her. The door to the library was locked behind him, ensuring their privacy—his hunger sharp and demanding.

  Settling himself onto the dark oak table before the sofa, he simply sat and stared at her with tired eyes, her precious face cushioned by her folded hands, so beautiful it hurt for him just to look at her.

  Somehow, that quickly, she’d become his entire world.


  She moaned softly, shifting in her sleep, the throw long forgotten with the fire he’d left burning to warm the room. The hem of her dress rode dangerously high on her sweet thighs, and he felt a sudden, searing compulsion take hold of his will.

  He’d touched her cunt with his fingers, sucked the sweet, honeyed juices of her from his skin, but he’d yet to have the pleasure of feasting upon it with his eyes—of spreading it open and investigating every perfect little succulent inch.

  Careful not to make any noise, he shifted the table closer, and then, using exquisite care, he slowly shifted her legs toward him, pulling her forward until her tight little ass lay perched upon the edge of the sofa, thighs sprawled across the top of his own. With shaking fingers, he carried the hem of her dress up to her navel, revealing the tiny black scrap of her lace panties, the crotch still visibly damp with her juices, and his breath rushed raggedly through his lungs.

  His chest ached.

  His dick ached.

  Grasping the straps at her hips, he pressed the thin fabric between his thumb and forefinger, calling on his power of fire, and then with a soft, sibilant hiss, the fabric sizzled into nothing, his fingers unburned. With a rough sigh, he pulled the front panel away, letting what was left of her panties fall silently to the floor, and felt the air surge from his lungs in a violent whoosh of sound.

  Ah gods, there she was.

  More perfect than he could have ever imagined.

  His gaze flamed, black eyes bright with lust and dark, deeper emotions, as he stared down at her open, quivering sex. She was pink and, ah, so damn delicate. Above, the silky puff of her mound was as red as she’d claimed, like a flaming little cloud, and below, her perfect, demure lips deliciously bare, already slick with pearly cream, the heated scent intoxicating to his reeling senses. She smelled like sex and woman and hard, unforgiving fucking. The kind where you lost yourself in the pure, blinding pleasure of the moment. Where your entire world constricted, narrowed, focusing down to the exact, perfect point of penetration. Where you knew nothing beyond the feel of your cock cramming into a woman’s cunt, the slick fluids of her body coating your skin, the rhythmic clenches of her muscles as they pumped your thundering flesh to completion.

  He’d never had it—not like that. Oh, he’d had good fucks, better ones than most men ever deserved, but he’d never had that one perfect woman. The one who fit him in every way. Who brought everything she had to the moment and offered it freely, trusting her heart as well as her body into his hands. Even her soul.

  And he wanted it with this one.

  She sighed, her head rolling across her shoulders, and he knew he should cover her back up and take her home—to his home—where they could do this properly. Knew it as surely as he knew that it was far from what he’d do.

  With a shaking hand, he trailed one fingertip through the thick seam of her folds, gently opening her so he could look his fill of the even pinker flesh within. Ah, Saephus, she was so beautiful. It stole his breath, thickened his cock to the point where he knew the buttons of his fly were in danger of busting.

  Come to think of it, his cock was pretty damn close to busting, too.

  “Gods, I want to fuck this—eat it,” he rasped beneath his breath for his ears alone, his tongue restless within his mouth, waiting for its chance to explore the glistening flesh beneath his fingers. “I could eat you out for the rest o’ my life, lass, and never get enough.”

  Bringing his other hand into play, Kieran used his thumbs to spread her lips wider, stretching them, and looked his fill of the prettiest little cunt he’d ever seen. Her clit swelled, rising at the top of her sex, begging for the gentle bite of his teeth. She took a deep breath in her sleep, and her cunt breathed along with her, the nestled slit so small he wanted to howl. The animal call burned at the back of his throat, his mind filled with image upon image of his cock right there, the heavy, blunt head forcing her open, stretching that fragile skin so wide and open, stretching it to take his thick, brutal width.

  He’d work it in with forceful, intent precision, wetting himself with her warm cream, and then he’d hold her wide-eyed stare as he braced her hips, fingers digging into her silky flesh, and cram his throbbing cock right through the fist-tight clench of tissue. He’d part her inch by delicious inch, not stopping until he was buried up to his balls and her cunt was packed wonderfully full of hard, pounding cock.

  He wanted as deep into her as he could get—wanted to measure her pulse with the tip of his dick. Wanted the grip of each breath squeezing him, working him like a strong, wet fist.

  With one callous-tipped finger, he tested the tender rim of her pussy-pink vulva. It was soft and sweet, the slit within slipping cream as it pulsed—slick, slippery fluids streaming from the shy hole. He wanted to shove his face right there, pierce that narrow mouth with the thick thrust of his tongue, dig into her as deep as he could, and suck the juices right down his throat. He wanted her taste in his mouth, on his lips, sliding down as he swallowed it, filling his gut. And after he’d eaten his fill, after he’d brought her so many times he was full on her cum, he’d break that tiny hole apart with his aching cock and give her the fucking she’d been asking for since the moment they met.

  How strange that was only a few days ago. Gods, it felt like he’d been waiting for her forever. Days and months and years—instead of a measly number of hours.

  His finger slipped deeper, up to his first knuckle, and her muscles sucked at him so damn tight it made his breath hiss between his teeth. He knew there was no way he’d ever get his dick in there without hurting her, and yet, he knew enough to believe that if she was the one—if this was meant to be—then she would take him, as impossible as it sounded. And Saephus, it would be so damn sweet. To part those hot little cunt muscles and feel her suck him deep inside. To tease her with a steady ride until she clawed and begged and he couldn’t control any of it—until he finally let loose, plowing and driving and pounding her so hard it felt like heaven and hell.

  He prayed she liked her sex a little rough, because there was no telling how long it’d be before he could give it to her sweet and easy. Damn, the way she made him feel was so forceful, violent in its intensity, he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to give it to her that way.

  But he’d try. If that’s the way she wanted it, he’d do everything in his power to love her the way she needed.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, wondering where the hell his mind was going as he pulled his hands away, fisting them on the baby soft skin of her thighs. She was so fragile, and here he was plotting the fuck of the century. Damn woman didn’t understand what she was playing with here. She probably had visions of tender moments and gentle caresses, and all he wanted was to fuck her raw, catch his breath, and then give it to her even harder, showing her the force of pleasure a true Warlock could give his mate—a vicious pounding of cock into cunt over and over and over again.

  Cracking his lids, as if he didn’t trust himself with a wide-eyed view, he reached down and spread her silky lips wide once again, opening her like a ripe, juice-filled peach, exposing every hidden bit of drenched flesh, blushing pink and so exquisitely pretty. She was shiny and wet, soaked in her fluids, her sweet scent making the beast in him want to drool.

  And out of nowhere, the heinous, jealous thought of what Maldari must have thought of this perfect cunt slammed through his gut with the crushing force of a sledgehammer, painful and wrenching.

  “Té?” he rasped, suddenly needing her to be right there with him. “Té, wake up, baby.”

  “Mmm…” she sighed, her thighs shimmying atop his, slumberous eyes blinking slowly open as she tried to bring him into focus. “Did you find him?” she asked sleepily.

  He shook his head, expression hard, and she tensed, question-filled eyes taking stock of her exposed position. “What’s wrong?”

  His jaw locked, that tiny muscle jerking in his cheek as he moved his hands away from her sex, resting them lightly on the tops of
her thighs again. “Did Maldari like going down on you?” he rasped, knowing he had no right to ask—knowing it was an asshole’s question—and yet, unable to keep the ugly, intrusive…entirely unfair question inside.

  She stiffened against him. “That’s none of your damn business,” she said carefully, voice husky from sleep, shocked that he’d mention Lexi at a time like this.

  “Aye—I know I have no right to ask,” he grunted, rough palms smoothing up and down the outer surfaces of her thighs, wondering why he didn’t just shut the hell up before ruining everything. “But I’m doing it anyway.”

  Té tried to temper her happiness at seeing him safely returned with the irritation she felt at his infuriating attitude. “What are you doing, Kieran?”

  His long fingers tightened on her flesh, then instantly released, as if afraid of his strength. “Just answer the question, lass—and you’d best do it now, while I can still listen.”

  Her bare, left foot planted itself against his shoulder, trying to push him away while her hands fumbled through the gauzy fabric of her skirt, her intent to pull it back down, but he didn’t budge. She gritted her teeth, the churning frustration spiraling through her system nearly enough to make her choke. “Is this how you get your little kicks?” she demanded, voice rough with chaotic emotion.

  His large hands caught fistfuls of her skirt, holding it in place, and she slapped at his fists, her body suddenly flailing as she tried to struggle against him in her slipping position against the cushions.

  “Stop it,” he ordered, giving up on her skirt and catching her fragile wrists instead. “Damn it, stop fighting before you hurt yourself. Is it so damn hard to just give me a bloody answer?”

  She glared up at him. “Jesus, Kieran, why would you even want to know?”

  His jaw ground down so hard she winced for his poor teeth. His breathing was heavy—more from arousal than their skirmish—black eyes flecked with supernatural silver as he stared down at her.

  He swallowed once. Twice. “I just—damn it, I canna explain it, Té. I just have to know.”