by Lily Cahill
He nipped lightly at her hipbone, drawing her attention there. Her hands went to his shoulders, then up to his long, dark hair, tangling in it. He ghosted his lips over the need between her legs, tonguing at her clit.
Felicity let out a sob.
The sound encouraged him, apparently, because he brought one of her legs over his shoulder and did one long, slow lick up the length of her center. She couldn’t contain herself, bucking into his mouth, and he rode her movements with lips and tongue, matching her pace. One hand sneaked around her, and two of his fingers slipped inside of her.
She clenched around them, the arousal swimming in her blood, building back up again. She could feel herself tightening, wanting more than his fingers, wanting him inside of her, and then—there it was. She broke, crying out until she went hoarse as Damien brought her to climax.
Damien was on his feet in moments, kissing her. She could taste herself on his tongue, and the thought sent her hormones careening through her body once more. She wanted him again and again and again.
Felicity scrambled to push his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms, and he shrugged out of it, tossing it across the room. His arms were solid and heavily muscled—she’d already known that, of course, those same arms had lifted her weight and pinned her against a wall only a few days ago, but looking at them still made her heart flutter.
Her hands fell to the open mouth of his jeans, and she tucked her fingers inside the waistband, her eyes locked on his as she pushed them down his thighs. His boxers joined them in a puddle on the floor a moment later, and then he was in front of her, gloriously naked.
He looked like a statue, like something that people would have worshipped centuries ago. Every inch of his tan skin seemed to glow in the low light of her tiny apartment. She let herself enjoy it for just a moment, reaching out to touch him, run her fingertips over the bulge of his abs, the cut of his muscle at his hips that seemed to point like an arrow at his thick erection.
He was so hard, and all for her. The thought made Felicity want to stand taller; this man, this beautiful man, wanted her. She had felt pretty before, but she had never felt so sexy as she did when she was with Damien.
He swayed closer to her, the heat of his body radiating against her own. Desire swelled in her again, and she wondered if she would ever get enough Damien Dragomir.
She hoped not.
He was kissing her, then, his mouth hot and insistent against her own. She stumbled backward toward her bedroom, dragging him along with her. They barely disconnected—she needed to kiss him like she needed to breathe. They fell through her doorway and into her bed, his strong body hovering inches above her own as he put his weight on his forearms.
He was so close. She could see the lighter flecks in his dark eyes, obscured by the waves of his hair. Felicity reached up and touched his cheek, and he leaned into her hand, not pushing any further, just holding, waiting, studying her.
“I love you.”
The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them. He was just there, so close and so warm, and his very presence made her feel more. He made her feel braver and smarter and sexier and more beautiful than she had ever felt in her life. Unfortunately, he also made her feel more reckless, which was why she did stupid things like blurt out love confessions during perfectly good sex and quite possibly ruining the moment.
His face was serious for just a moment, and then that small smile she loved so much tugged right at the corner of his mouth.
“I love you, too,” he said, barely above a whisper. He dipped closer, nuzzling his nose against hers. “Felicity ….”
Tears sprang to Felicity’s eyes. No one had ever said her name like that before—like she was special, cherished. She surged upward, seeking out his mouth with her own, and kissed her for all she was worth. He traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, and she opened to him, moaning as she did so.
Their confessions made everything feel so much more urgent, immediate. If she had wanted him before, she burned for him now. She couldn’t live without him inside of her, needed to feel him there and seal the vow they had just made. Felicity circled her legs around his hips and drew him closer, feeling the leaking head of his cock against her mound.
“Condom,” she ordered. Her mind was a disarray, barely able to form the words.
Damien paused with a frustrated sigh. “Back in my wallet, in my pants. I’ll—”
“Don’t. You. Move.” She held him in place with her thighs.
Raising one hand toward the door, she said, “Compello.”
The condom flew through the room and into her outstretched palm. She handed the packet to him, enjoying the shocked look on his face.
“It’s just a simple summoning spell. You imagine the thing you want, then you say the magic word, and it comes to you.” She shrugged.
When he kept staring at her, she flicked at the packet. “You planning on making use of that?”
He snapped out of his reverie, tearing the packet open with his teeth and moving to roll it on over his cock. A moment later, she felt him nudging at her entrance and lifted her hips, urging him to move forward and join them.
He did so—slowly, achingly slowly. She wasn’t sure how he could manage to move so deliberately; Felicity had already come once, and the careful measure of his movement was driving her insane. She couldn’t imagine how he wasn’t similarly affected. Looking up into his eyes, she saw that they were clouded over with lust. He seemed faraway, his brow furrowed in a deep concentration as he pushed further and further inside of her.
When he was buried to the hilt, he captured her in a kiss, his lips working their own kind of magic against her. He leaned his body weight onto his right forearm, his left hand traveling down her body, stopping to tweak her nipple and then going down to where they were linked together. He circled her nub and her legs tightened around him convulsively.
He pulled out with that same slowness, and Felicity wished she, too, could growl. She arched her back, chasing the feeling of him inside of her.
“Do it. Fuck me. Oh God, please—”
He cut off her words with a deep, pointed thrust, filling her completely. Felicity cried out each time, going mad as he established his rhythm. It felt like his cock was bumping against the very depths of her, quicker now, his finger pressing against her clit in time.
It was overwhelming. Felicity melted back into the bed. She could hear screams and realized, distantly, that it was her, screaming with pleasure for what he was doing to her. His breath was hot against her skin as he kept up his pace and bent his head to circle her nipple with his tongue. He was worshipping every part of her, driving her insane, until everything inside of her shattered.
Her orgasms crested again and again, Damien working her body through it. She felt like a wild woman, completely without anchor, her body made of nothing but pleasure. As she came back to herself, she blinked up at him, arms tightening around his body.
Her lips were near his ear.
“Come,” she told him. “Please, baby, please come for me. Come inside of me.”
Damien bellowed his release, turning his head to kiss her and kiss her, and every part of him said to her that he loved her as deeply as she loved him.
As they drifted off to sleep, still tangled in each other’s limbs, Felicity thought that she had never before been this happy.
Chapter Ten
Damien
DAMIEN BLINKED BACK INTO CONSCIOUSNESS, unsure as to what had woken him. He hadn’t slept long, but he’d slept well—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so peaceful upon waking. His eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room quickly, and disorientation struck him hard. This wasn’t his penthouse—no, no, he’d left the penthouse, and had been with his brothers in the woods, and then he’d left to find a witch, and—
He looked to his right to see that Felicity was slipping out of bed, her back to him, bare and lovely.
Her skin seemed to glow in the
little bit of moonlight cutting through her window. Damien couldn’t help himself. He reached out to trace the dip of her spine, smiling when she shivered and turned around to glare at him.
“Don’t you dare tickle me,” she ordered, getting to her feet and moving just out of his reach.
Damien pushed himself up, sitting amid the tangled sheets. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he told her as he filed away the information that she was ticklish with every intent to use it against her later. “Where are you going?”
“I heard my phone go off.”
Frowning, Damien moved to the edge of the bed, leaning out to catch her wrist and pull her back. She collapsed back into his arms, laughing.
“Don’t do it. Remember what happened last time.”
He trusted her, he did, but that didn’t mean it was pleasant to remember what it was like to doubt her. It still felt too fresh.
Felicity wiggled out of his grip. She looked at him, brows drawn together, lower lip pouting ever so slightly. It was impossible to deny her when she gave him that face.
“Normally, I would agree with you, but it could be the hospital. Dr. Chen promised to call when we had some news.” She brushed her lips gently against his own, an echo of what they’d experienced only hours before. It made him want to chase her mouth, part her lips with his tongue, delve into her, consume her.
Instead, he held himself back and waved a hand toward the door. “Hurry back?”
She nodded eagerly, walking out of the bedroom without a stitch of clothing on as she went to find her phone.
He loved seeing her like that, so confident in herself and her body that she had no compunction about wandering the apartment naked. He wanted to keep her like that for days, have her prance around the place in the nude so that whenever the urge struck either of them, there were no obstacles to be removed.
Even if removal was sometimes kind of fun.
Damien was insatiable in his need for her. It had never felt like this with a woman before, and he doubted it ever would again. She was his one, his mate, his other half, the girl who could love him as both a man and a dragon. What had always seemed like a fanciful fairy tale now felt so real, so close.
And when she got back to the room, he had an idea of what he wanted to do to her—make her come as many times as possible.
Unfortunately, fate had other plans.
Felicity clutched the phone with white knuckles, holding it tight against her ear. She sounded strangled, completely unlike herself as she paced the floor, speaking half in Spanish and have in English.
“—mierda! You can’t do that! No, you really can’t. I’m her power of attorney, and I okayed this treatment.”
Damien sat up in bed, automatically reaching for his clothes, still abandoned on the floor. He didn’t know what was going on, but whatever it was, it didn’t sound good.
“It doesn’t matter that you’re her mother! She’s an adult, you don’t get to make decisions for her. I have legal paperwork that says that I do, and—don’t you dare hang up on me. Don’t you—”
Felicity’s phone clattered to the ground as she gave an aborted scream.
Damien, nearly dressed, picked up her cell. She was flushed red in anger, muttering to herself in Spanish.
“What happened?” he asked, handing her the phone. Felicity took it, sparing a quick moment to look embarrassed for having thrown it down in the first place.
“My mother happened.” Her head fell into her hands, and she blew out a deep breath. “She showed up at the hospital and has put a stop to the treatment. Claims that she doesn’t trust it because the potion isn’t the right shade of purple—which is down to either improper ingredients, or not enough magical strength. Neither is good news.”
“And she can’t make that decision?”
Felicity shook her head. “Not legally, no. Joy’s an adult. I’m power of attorney, I’m the one who can authorize these things—but I’m not surprised she’s managed to bypass the rules. She’s good at that.” She put an on affected voice. “Really, Felicity, you could get whatever you want if you’re just willing to use a little honey, rather than vinegar.”
Damien wrinkled his nose. “Please never do that voice again. Especially not while you’re naked.”
Felicity looked down, and her cheeks went red as she seemed to realize she was still gloriously nude.
“God,” she said, with a bitter laugh. “I’m a mess. My head is everywhere. I need to get to the hospital and set things right. I can’t let her do this.”
The resolve was thick in Felicity’s voice, and Damien nodded. He didn’t like the change that had come over Felicity in the past few minutes, the way she seemed to slump her shoulders and grow embarrassed by her own nakedness. In bed, she had been so confident, so eager, so beautiful—her light dimmed at the thought of her mother.
He couldn’t let her go into this situation alone. They were together now, she and him. Protecting her from her own mother was no different than protecting her from a bully with a bad attitude who was rude when he ordered coffee. No one treated his woman like something less.
No one.
Felicity grabbed his hands and stepped close. “Are you sure you trust me?”
“Absolutely.”
She bit her lip, hesitating. It had been her idea to teleport both of them, but she seemed to be second guessing her decision.
“Have you ever teleported someone else before?” he asked, trying not to sound skeptical. He had no doubt that she was capable; he had seen her perform magic like it was as easy as breathing. There were plenty of witches around, but not many of them had the kind of power that didn’t need to be channeled through some sort of instrument or familiar.
The only other witch he could think of that could accomplish something like that had been that strange woman he’d met at the shop, the one who had convinced him that he needed to go to Felicity. She’d been powerful—odd, yes, but very powerful.
Felicity rolled her eyes, a little bit of her fire more present. “Of course. Not a ton, but a few times. Mostly with Joy, though, and not for years. It’s dangerous enough to squish yourself through space and pop out somewhere else.”
Damien caught Felicity’s chin between his fingers and looked deep into her eyes. They were so dark he could see his reflection glittering back at him.
“I trust you,” he told her again, low and serious.
Felicity nodded once, the movement decisive, and then grabbed both of his hands in hers. She squeezed them as her eyes fell closed. She uttered the magic words—he couldn’t understand them—and then there was an uncomfortable swoop in his stomach, like he’d gone down a big hill on a rollercoaster. The opposite feeling happened a second later, and then he realized he was outside the hospital, all in one piece.
He opened his eyes to find her grinning at him.
“I did it,” Felicity said, throwing herself into his arms.
He had only a moment to enjoy her sweet embrace before she was pulling away and grabbing his hand. She tugged him through the automatic double doors and past the nurses’ station, ignoring the calls for the pair of them to stop, wait. They hurried down the hallways, twisting and turning until Joy’s room was there, only a few feet away, the door standing open.
Felicity stopped moving.
Damien moved around her, his strides even. She may be intimidated by her mother, but he was not. If the doubts about his existence were what was keeping Mrs. Valdez from agreeing to the treatment, then he would change her mind. If he had to shift in front of her, so be it. No one was going to take Joy away from Felicity. No one was going to upset his mate like that.
His mate. The words sounded so right that they momentarily drowned out everything else and he didn’t hear Felicity behind him, whispering furiously.
“Where are you—stop, Damien. Stop.” She yanked him back. “You don’t have to do this. I can handle her on my own.”
There was a desperate loneliness in her words that implied sh
e knew she could handle her mother by herself because she always had. Damien didn’t know the specifics, but it was obvious, to him, that all was not well between Felicity and her mom. He had no doubt that Felicity could deal with the situation without any help.
That didn’t mean he wanted her to have to go through that, however.
“I know you can handle it solo,” he told her. He leaned forward and kissed her on her forehead. “But you don’t have to anymore. I’m here now.”
Felicity sucked in a breath as he spoke, and when she looked up at him, her eyes were a dark, liquid brown. She went on her toes to give him a quick peck on the lips, then strode past him into the room.
Damien took a deep breath and followed her.
Chapter Eleven
Felicity
“FELICITY.”
HER MOTHER’S TONE WAS delicate and cold, like frozen ice. Felicity felt Damien’s presence as he entered the room behind her, and it gave her strength. She steeled herself; this would not be a fun conversation, but she was determined to win it.
“Mother,” she said, just as cooly.
Sarah Morningstar Valdez was just as gorgeous as she had been when she was young. She was fair-skinned, with bright blond hair and blue eyes—a wholesome, all-American kind of beauty. She and Joy were both so tall and graceful. Growing up, Felicity had wondered why she wasn’t pretty like her mother, how she could be half of someone so lovely and yet not resemble her at all.
Her mother had always seemed to wonder the same thing.
Sarah’s eyes slid over Damien and narrowed on Felicity.
“I know why you’re here,” Sarah said, rising from the chair next to Joy’s bed. “I don’t care what you say, this is not happening. I may not be quite as powerful as you, but I am a witch. Look at this potion.”