A Touch of Magick: Spells, Seduction and Secrets, Book 1

by N. J. Walters

  But beyond all the thinking and reasoning and research was his gut feeling that Rhiannon was too important for him to lose. She felt slight in his arms as he carried her to the bedroom, but there was strength there as well.

  He’d known from the look on her face when he arrived this evening that he would only get one chance to get this right. She might want him and need him the way he wanted and needed her, but she could live quite well without him.

  If anything in the world could have convinced him she was nothing like his mother, it was that. His mother hadn’t been able to bear being alone, needing constant reassurance and someone to take care of her. Rhiannon was fiercely independent. She didn’t need him, but was inviting him into her life.

  His arms flexed around her momentarily before he forced himself to release her legs and let her slide down his body until her feet touched the floor. She was so soft and feminine in her silky gown. The scent of aroused woman and flowers wafted around them and he inhaled deep, dragging her essence into his lungs.

  Rhiannon’s taut nipples pressed against his torso and her belly snuggled against his erection. The floorboard creaked as he shifted his weight, leaning back enough so that he could loosen the tie on her robe. It parted, revealing the silky nightgown that clung to her breasts and curves.

  Candles sprang to life around the room, their flames jumping upward before settling down to a slow, steady burn. He jerked back, astounded. Then the humor of the situation struck him and he began to laugh. The abnormal was quickly becoming the norm around Rhiannon. Shaking his head, he tweaked her nose. “Show off.”

  She grinned at him, her entire face lighting up with pleasure. Her violet eyes shimmered with a combination of delight and desire. “You have no idea how long I’ve been trying to conquer that skill.”

  “It is handy at times like this.” He slid his hands beneath the fabric and pushed the robe down her arms. It pooled around her feet. He sucked in a breath as her pale arms and shoulders were uncovered. The straps of the gown were thin, the neckline plunging, making her appear fragile, which he knew was an illusion. She might be tiny in stature, but she was a strong woman, a force to be reckoned with.

  “I won’t have to worry about finding my matches when I lose power in the winter anymore.”

  “Definitely a plus,” he murmured, sliding his hands over the silky fabric. The pale green suited her, making her skin appear creamier. With her shiny cap of black hair, her pointed chin and her cute nose, she appeared more fairy-like than ever. Even if she weren’t a witch, she’d be pure magick.

  He skimmed her collarbone with his fingers, allowing them to slide up the slender column of her neck. Reversing direction, he smoothed his hands downward, hitched his fingers in the thin straps of her nightgown and lowered them over her arms.

  The material fell away from her breasts, exposing them to his view. Full and plump and tipped with puckered rosy nipples, they drew him. Bending forward, he lapped at one, loving the way she sucked in a deep breath when he tongued it. Her hands came up to clutch at his head, tugging him closer.

  God, he couldn’t get enough of her. He nuzzled his way over to her other breast and traced the edge of her areola with his tongue. Leaning back slightly, he blew on her nipple, smiling when it hardened even more.

  Her nightgown was caught around her hips, exposing the soft mound of her belly. He ran his fingers down the length of her torso, marveling at the smoothness of her skin. His hands were large and rough, but she welcomed his touch, shifting nearer to him.

  Her waist curved in slightly and then rounded out again as he caressed her hips. He shoved the fabric and it slithered down her legs, landing in a heap at her ankles. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. “You are so damn beautiful.”

  She gave a laugh. “Thank you. No one else has ever said that to me before.”

  Were all the men she’d known blind and stupid? From the look of wonder on her face, he’d have to say so. A wave of possessiveness welled up inside him. Well, it was their loss. She was his now, and he wasn’t about to let her go.

  He supposed that if you took all her features separately, there was nothing remarkable about her, except maybe her unique eye color. Her face was heart-shaped, her nose tilted up slightly and her lips weren’t thin or overly full. But together…together there was something about her that drew him like a lodestone.

  He went down on one knee before her and buried his face against her stomach. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close, needing to feel her against him.

  His leather jacket creaked, reminding him he was still fully dressed. He released her long enough to yank off his coat and toss it aside. His black T-shirt followed. He reached for her again, but she pulled away, dancing just out of his reach.

  “Take off the rest of it.” Her voice was husky with desire. She ran her eyes over his body, devouring him. His jeans felt as though they were suddenly a size too small.

  Bending over, he shucked his boots and socks and then reached for the zipper of his jeans. He quickly slid his jeans and boxer briefs down his legs, kicking them aside. Standing with his hands clenched at his sides, he let her drink in her fill of him. His cock jerked when her eyes grazed him there.

  “Mmm.” She made the sound of pleasure as she took a step toward him. “I never got a chance to touch you last night.”

  Oh man, his head was going to explode if she put her hands on him. He steeled himself as she reached out and ran her index finger down his length. “So strong and hard, but so soft.” When she got to the bottom, she traced a path upward. The muscles in his neck were rigid and he clenched his jaw and counted to ten to keep from coming.

  Her fingers trailed away from his erection. He reached for her hand, wanting, needing it back on his shaft. Instead of touching him again, she tugged him over to the bed. He had almost a foot on her and at least eighty pounds, but when she placed her palm on his chest and pushed, he sat on the edge of the mattress.

  When she went to her knees in front of him, it took all his control not to howl with pleasure. He’d hoped she might want to do this someday, but he hadn’t expected anything like this so soon.

  She placed her hands on his knees and stroked the inside of his thighs, moving ever closer to where he wanted her to touch him. He could feel the heat of her breath on him. The head of his erection was damp with need.

  Leaning forward, she delicately licked the pearl of liquid seeping from the tip. He shuddered, grabbing the edge of the mattress to keep himself from grabbing her, tossing her on the bed and fucking her senseless. “You’re killing me, babe.”

  She smiled up at him. “Not yet.”

  His heat level rose until he felt certain his blood had to be boiling in his veins. Rhiannon bent her head again, this time sucking the head of his erection into her mouth. As her pink lips parted and took him inside, he felt his balls clench. The heat of her mouth surrounded him as her tongue swirled around the bulbous head. She wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft and squeezed. The other, she used to cup his balls, massaging them gently.

  Ryland groaned. Tangling his fingers in her short locks, he held her to him, rocking his hips back and forth. With each stroke, she took him deeper.

  Rhiannon sucked in air through her nose as she continued to pleasure Ryland. She’d done this a few times before in her life, but never had she enjoyed it the way she was now. Each groan he made, each jerk of his body was felt in her core. She was hot and wet, cream coating her sex, making her folds slick and ready for him.

  Her chest rose and fell rapidly. He rocked in and out of her mouth, pushing deeper, his motions getting faster and less measured with each thrust. She could feel his balls contracting as she rolled them in her fingers. Stroking the hard length of him, she could feel him getting thicker as more blood pumped to that area.

  His fingers were tangled in her hair, holding her to him with a desperation that excited her. He was as captive to the desire flowing between them as she was. He tasted warm
and musky, his skin slightly salty. The crisp hair of his groin brushed against her fingers. She pumped her hand faster.

  He tried to tug her away but she resisted. “Enough.” When she ignored him, he groaned and tried again. “Rhiannon, stop. I want to be inside you when I come.”

  Her core spasmed in agreement, sending a fresh surge of cream to her already damp sex. Reluctantly, she sat back on her heels and peered up at him. His chest was expanding and contracting heavily as if he’d run for miles. Perspiration coated his skin. Leaning against one muscular thigh, she reached out, absently tracing a thick blue vein up the side of his shaft.

  “Witch,” he groaned. Reaching down, he plucked her off the floor and tumbled her back onto the bed.

  This time the word didn’t make her cringe. She laughed and then moaned when he kissed the sensitive curve of her neck. His body covered hers, yet he was cautious to keep the bulk of his weight off her as he kissed and caressed his way across her shoulders, around her breasts and over her stomach.

  He lifted her legs, placed them over his shoulders and settled between her thighs. “You’re already so wet.” He touched her intimately, wonder and pleasure in his tone.

  “Yes,” she agreed, tilting her hips upward to meet him, digging her heels into his back. Her breathing was rapid and her heart fluttered wildly. Already she could feel the power coiling within her, waiting to erupt.

  He laughed, sending shockwaves of anticipation through her. Capturing her clit between his lips, he sucked. Lightning streaked through her. Rhiannon’s body bowed and her hips jerked upward. Ryland continued to suckle her as he pressed two thick fingers deep into her core.

  She gripped the comforter beneath her, desperately trying to find something to hold on to. Throwing back her head, she screamed as she came. Her body contracted around his fingers, and she felt the flood of her orgasm as he continued to ply his unique form of magick. And he was magical. She had no doubt about it. No man had ever made her feel this way before.

  Shivering, she lost herself in the pleasure. When it began to recede, she let her legs fall back to the bed, curled her toes and stretched, feeling much like a contented cat. Ryland released her and placed one final kiss on her sensitive flesh, sending a frisson of desire through her.

  She was replete, yet she wasn’t. She felt empty inside.

  “Ryland.” She held out her hand to him. He took it in his, bringing it to his lips. Slowly, he kissed each knuckle before drawing her forefinger into his mouth and sucking. His teeth scraped the sides of her finger as he moved his mouth up and down. She sucked in a breath and then released it on a moan of pleasure. Already she could feel the passion beginning to well within her.

  Releasing her suddenly, he rolled to one side, reached over and snagged his jeans. He produced a condom from his back pocket and quickly sheathed himself.

  Poised above her, he positioned the tip of his shaft at her opening. “There’s no going back for us.”

  He waited and she sensed he needed her agreement before he would continue. “No,” she agreed, loving the way his hair was standing out at odd angles on his head. “There’s no going back.”

  Ryland pushed forward, not stopping until he was all the way inside. Her sensitive inner muscles contracted around his shaft, giving way to accommodate his girth and length. It was uncomfortable at first, but it also felt incredibly good. He filled her, filled all the empty spaces inside her body and her soul. Her inner muscles flexed and he held himself steady over her, allowing her time to get used to him.

  Then he began to move.

  Slowly at first, he pulled almost all the way out before surging forward again. He gained speed with each stroke, going harder. Faster.

  Rhiannon wanted to touch him, but she could barely reach him. Groaning in frustration, she tried to tug him down on top of her.

  He leaned forward and buried his arms beneath her. When he sat back on his heels, he pulled her upright. She found herself on his lap facing him. “Better?” he asked.

  She rubbed her breasts against his chest, loving the feel of his chest hair against the sensitive nubs. “Much,” she gasped.

  “Lean back.” She did as he instructed, knowing he wouldn’t let her fall.

  His strong arms held her. He leaned down and captured one of her nipples, suckling her as he flexed his hips. This position drove him even deeper inside her. She squirmed, wanting even more. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, his hair, his neck. She wanted to touch him everywhere.

  His shaft pulsed within her, hard and strong. Her feminine muscles squeezed hard each time he withdrew, as though trying to keep him inside her. She shifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist. He groaned and released her breast, pulling her close to his body and burying his face in the curve of her shoulder.

  His fingers gripped her waist and he lifted her slightly, only to bring her back down over his shaft. He did it again. And again. Harder and faster, he took them higher. He bit down carefully on the curve of her neck and Rhiannon cried out as pleasure suffused her. She arched inward, pulling him deep.

  Her orgasm hit hard. Her body splintered. She shook and shuddered as she came, her body spasming as Ryland continued to thrust. She heard him yell. Felt his body heaving against hers.

  She slumped against him, totally spent. He shuddered and wrapped his arms around her, rocking them both back and forth. Rhiannon lost all track of time, falling into a light doze until Ryland finally moved. She protested slightly as he leaned forward, laying her back against the mattress. Her legs fell away from him as he pulled back, and she bit back a whimper as he withdrew.

  The mattress shifted and she knew he’d left the room to get cleaned up. Rhiannon was content just to lie there and wait for him to return. He didn’t make a sound when he came back into the room, but she felt him and forced her eyes open. The first thing she noticed was that he’d finger-combed his hair. It no longer standing on end.

  He sat beside her on the bed, and it was then she noticed the washcloth. He ran the cool, wet cloth over her arms and legs before dragging it over her sex. It felt good against her heated flesh, but sent a fresh round of shivers dancing through her.

  Tossing the cloth aside, he tugged back the covers and joined her after she crawled beneath them. He reached for her and she went easily into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder and her hand on his stomach as if she’d been doing it for years. He idly stroked his fingers through her hair.

  “Where do we go from here?” She wanted to know. Needed to know before her heart got any more tangled up than it already was.

  “Where do you want to go?” She could feel the rumbling of his chest against her cheek as he spoke.

  She started to shrug, but then stopped. Deep inside, she knew what she wanted. It was time to lay her cards on the table. He deserved her complete honesty.

  Tucking the sheet around her, she sat up, wrapped her arms around her legs and stared down at him. Even rumpled and spent, the man was gorgeous. He looked right lying in her bed next to her. “I want…” She broke off, trying to figure out how to put her thoughts into words that wouldn’t send him running for the door.

  Ryland sat up, leaning against the headboard. He appeared relaxed, but she could see the tension in the set of his shoulders and the way his lips were pressed together.

  “I know it’s really too soon,” she shrugged. “We barely know one another.”

  “Screw that.” His harsh tone startled her. “Time doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if we’ve known each other for two days or two years.” She could feel the waves of frustration pulsing from him.

  He looked at her, his pale eyes seeing all the way to her very soul. “We’re meant to be, Rhiannon. I can feel it and you can too.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip as worries crowded her mind. She needed to be sure this wasn’t just the result of magick.

  He frowned as he raked a hand through his hair. “I know what you’re thinking and you can just stop it right n
ow. I’m not so damn weak-minded that some magick spell you cast would keep me here if I didn’t want to be.”

  “You didn’t feel that way last night.” Hurt and anger surged up within her again.

  He raked his fingers through his hair again. She didn’t think he even realized he was doing it. “Last night you threw a lot at me. Plus, I was dealing with a lot of stuff from my past.”

  Curiosity filled her. He hadn’t talked much about his family, had shut her down that first night at dinner when the subject had arisen. He knew her biggest secret. It was time for him to share. “What about your past?”

  He shrugged. “It’s no secret.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Not in this town.”

  Rhiannon tensed. Whatever was coming wasn’t good, but it had shaped Ryland’s life and his beliefs. She wanted to reach out and touch him but was afraid he might shrug off her touch. He was tense and obviously uncomfortable talking about this. “Tell me.”

  “My mother was mentally ill. Not that anyone ever called it that.”

  Her heart ached for both the man he was and the boy he’d been. Whatever had been wrong with his mother had made his life difficult. She dug her fingers into the sheet to keep from reaching out. “I’m sorry, Ryland.”

  He heaved a huge sigh. “Me too. She’d be fine for short spurts and then she’d get paranoid and angry. She’d see things sometimes and get mad when no one else could see them. She’d hear voices too. She didn’t want to be alone, but she didn’t want anyone near her. She was impossible to please.”

  No wonder he didn’t want to believe in the paranormal. Growing up with a mentally ill mother who claimed to see and hear things would have left him with a prejudice against such things and a need for control in his own life. She understood him so much better now.

  “It wasn’t your fault.” Unable to hold herself back any longer, she reached out and patted his arm.

  He hung his head and nodded. “Intellectually, I know that.” He raised his head and the fierce expression in his gaze pinned her to the bed. “But my father should have gotten her help. She should have asked for help when it first started and wasn’t so bad.” He turned away and stared at one of the candles. “I think that made it worse. Sometimes she was a wonderful mother, singing and laughing. But those times grew fewer and farther apart as the years went on.”