The scent of their attraction still hung in the air between them, musky and warm, but the mood died almost immediately.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Ciaran’s voice broke as she touched the edge of a wound with her thumb.
“I’m playing you like a fiddle, apparently,” she mumbled to herself.
Of course, he heard her. His hearing was probably better than a normal human’s. His response was nothing more than a grunt while she inspected the wounds.
The black spreading across his skin, taking over his veins, was unnatural. The skin around it was turning gray and lifeless. The scent of sulfur still hung over them. She worried that the infection was less biotic and more unnatural. It was, in a way, more of a curse than an infection.
“Do you trust me?” There was laughter in her voice as she asked. They had little reason to trust each other.
When she looked to him, she realized how close his face was. His gaze met hers and electricity crackled between them. It was unclear if it was static or something more. She didn’t have time to find out.
“Well, do you trust me?”
His arm moved along her lower back. It was soft and reassuring, but not for her. He looked away, swallowed, and nodded.
“Good, because I’m going to see if I can’t use your curse to shove out another curse. This is going to be fun.”
Samantha spoke with confidence, but she didn’t feel it. Her hands shook, and she laid them flat on his skin to hide the tremors. The dark power drifted like smoke inside her. It was the fire that burnt down the house that was her soul. All that was left was the smoke and ashes.
The power she did her best to ignore resonated with the curse in Ciaran. It was one and the same. With it, she delved past the curse’s safeguards and filled him with the power. His spine jerked upright, entire body going rigid. It was too much magic, but she needed it. The overflow would flush out anything lingering in his wounds.
It was the only thing she could think of.
Samantha knew she could let the infection slowly kill Ciaran and the world would be rid of him, but the thought left a kind of sorrow in her that she wasn’t ready to face. Ciaran had blown into her life, a thing of legends, and steadily became a real man. One that she wanted to hold onto.
She pushed more magic into his body. The curse swelled around him. His fingers turned into talons, sharp tips pressing into her skin where he held her. He met her gaze and she could see how his eyes had changed from soft gray to an endless black. What should have been fear in his eyes was trust.
She wasn’t sure she deserved it. Samantha was doing her best, but every step was guesswork. The curse rippled over his body. The feathers inked into his skin seemed to lift and become real, fluttering like they might take flight.
Then, like popping a balloon, the dark power in his shoulder burst free. It filled the air and faded, blown away in a hellish wind. Immediately, Samantha reclaimed the power pushed into Ciaran. He collapsed against her chest. She held him while he fought to regain his breath. The fingers pressed into her back shifted back to normal. When he looked up at her, the black had faded into a smoky grey.
“Well, that was an adventure,” she rasped.
His hands slowly climbed her waist as he leaned back. Ciaran didn’t let go of her.
“Would you like to go on another adventure?” he asked.
Her heart stuttered, but her core reacted. It melted, filling her with warmth. Truly, it had been too long since she’d been with a man. That was the only reason she could think of to explain the way she reacted to Ciaran. He was the cursed boogeyman from her childhood, and yet she still reached to touch the sides of his face.
He tilted his chin, raising his face as if she were the sun. “I know this is strange, but I’m done fighting it. I want you so badly I can’t think straight when you’re in the same room. I want to touch you, to hear you scream my name.”
She wanted it, too. Samantha liked to think she knew better, but that other part of her rose and overrode all common sense. It pushed her into him until she bent to capture his mouth. Her fingers slid into his hair, feeling the silken softness of it fall over her hands. There, she held him. She bent him to her will.
He was pliant in her hands, doing as she commanded. His lips parted to let her push deeper. In him, she could taste the power that echoed inside her. She could taste the woods he lived in and the smoky incense that must have followed him from the inbetween.
This was dangerous, a part of her whispered.
And, that made it all the better.
Ciaran lifted her from the floor, staggering as if he could barely control himself. She lapped up his desire, the way she made him weak and wild. It was amazing how easily she could undo him with her tongue, with her hands. She wanted to see him come undone completely.
This wasn’t about love. It wasn’t about anything deeper than the need that they’d both been fighting against. That was it.
Nothing more.
Together, they crashed into a wall. Ciaran pressed his body into hers so tight she might meld into him. There was no room for her to move, no way for her to escape even if she wanted to. His hands travelled down her thighs and back up again to explore her rear.
“Tell me you want it,” he growled in her ear.
The response stuck in her throat, a defiant smile on her lips. She would make him beg, too.
His hand found the space between her legs. Thumb over her clit, even though there were layers of fabric between their skin, he was able to draw a groan from her lips. Samantha did not want to become a fool in his arms, begging and pleading for release.
She was stronger than that.
Yet, not as strong as she would have liked. His touch drove her wild. There was something about his muscled arms around her, about the way his body covered her. She couldn’t explain it and still, she wanted more.
His thumb stroked lazy circles over her groin while she pulled his hair. He let his head fall back at her command, revealing the soft skin of his neck. Samantha took her time with his throat. She alternated between kisses and nibbles, enjoying each small sound she was able to draw out of him. Feeling brave, she uncoiled a small bit of magic from inside herself and let it flutter to her fingers.
As she ran them down his spine, he shuddered, magic dancing along his body. She watched his eyes roll back, feeling quite proud of herself. He arched into her, hand falling away so that his engorged cock pressed against her core.
“One night,” she whispered in his ear. “One night is all you get, but I can make it a night you’ll never forget if you let me.”
When he pulled back, she could see the wavering trust in his eyes. She was a Carver witch, descendant of the woman who had cursed him to this existence. It was only fair that he should be wary of any arrangement. For a moment, she expected Ciaran to pull away.
She waited for feathers to fold around him and her feet to fall to the floor. When he lowered his head and their lips met, a thrill raced through her body and landed in her core. It sparked a hunger stronger than anything else she’d ever felt. Suddenly, she could not get enough of him. Not his tongue, not his body beneath her hands.
Not until he was buried deep inside her.
Her groan devolved into a whine as she hurriedly tugged at his clothes. He did the same, pulling her shirt over her head and freeing her too heavy breasts. Her nipples were taut and ready, ensnaring his attention before her shirt hit the floor.
His eyes sparkled as he smirked. “I can do magic, too. Just watch.”
Samantha didn’t have time to be confused. His lips closed around her nipples, tongue flicking the sensitive skin and drawing the breath from her mouth. She let her head fall back against the wall as the sensation flowered out from his touch.
Her fingers curled against the wall, but she had enough of her mind left to unspool more of her magic. It crackled in the air and became phantom fingers that she let flow across Ciaran’s skin. When it fluttered over his bal
ls and along his cock, his tongue paused.
Samantha smiled. While she couldn’t get many men past the doors of Carver manor, the sex was still good. With Ciaran, she had a feeling this would be a night she would never forget.
While his lips roved up her bare chest, his hands worked her skirt over her hip so that it would fall to the floor. Samantha stood naked before him.
“Do you not wear underwear?”
“What’s the point?” She feigned a sexy smile while knowing she’d only eschewed underwear because laundry had piled up while this man had been fiddling with her life. It had turned out for the best, it seemed, so she was not going to complain.
His motions becoming jerky and demanding, Ciaran directed her back toward the couch. When she thought he was going to throw her down and have his way with her, he pushed her against the back of the couch. She held on as his cock slid along her lower back. Her core pulsed and the space between her legs became wet.
Ciaran spread her legs and pressed his cock between them from behind. Samantha unleashed another tendril of magic and did the same to him. For each time he touched her, she let the phantom touch echo along Ciaran’s skin. He shuddered and growled, reaching to hold her shoulder as he found her entrance.
Samantha lost control of her magic once he slid inside her. He filled every inch of her in ways she’d never known possible. The throbbing pulse of his cock sent small shivers through her and made her fingers tighten on the couch in front of her.
He started with slow and sensual strokes. His hands danced along her skin, up her back and down her waist. Fingers found her nipples and teased them to taut peaks once more. Samantha thought she might melt in his hands. No man had ever taken so much time with her. No one had ever touched her so completely.
Then, his thrusts became harder. His grip on her tightened to the point of bruising. He pushed her down, so his cock could reach deeper. She fisted the couch cushion in her hands and fought back the scream rising through her.
The pleasure built and built, becoming overwhelming. Samantha wanted it to break, to spill through her and end the torture. Ciaran steadied her thrusts, switching between the needy fury of the moments before and a slow teasing that only made her whimper.
“Scream for me, witch.”
She groaned and managed a single word. “Never.”
He laughed, a low and melodic sound that only made her core tighter. Her knees shook beneath her. When would she be free of this? When would her orgasm spill out as it should? Samantha did not want to let him win, to give him the scream he was slowly pulling from her, but she feared it was only a matter of time.
When the orgasm finally burst, Samantha buried her face in the couch. The sound that she made was not quite a scream, but far too close. Her knees shook beneath her. She clung to the couch while the orgasm shook her body and curled her toes. Still, Ciaran pumped. He found the deepest point of her, sending another ripple thought the sensation washing over her.
Samantha collapsed on the back of the couch, boneless as Ciaran brought another orgasm thundering through her body. This time, he howled with his own ecstasy. He came inside her, a thought she didn’t have time to muse over while she drowned in pleasure once more.
When they were both finished, he pulled out. Samantha laughed into the fabric of the couch cushions, unable to move. Ciaran pulled her into his arms and carried her toward the stairs. Their clothing was forgotten as he found his way toward her bedroom.
It reminded her he’d been in Carver Manor before. He knew his way around, finding her bed with ease. He set her on shaky feet and let her wobble toward her private bathroom to clean up.
Behind the closed door, Samantha had a moment to consider what she’d just done. When she opened the door, he would be gone. She expected him to fly out the window and into the night, only to come back in the morning to remind her of their agreement.
Instead, she found a naked Ciaran sprawled out across her bed. Her heart thumped and struggled as she beheld him. He looked up, catching her eye. The world seemed to stop around them, pausing only so that they could take each other in.
His eyes roved over her. They were hungry, as if he hadn’t just gotten a hearty taste of her. “Women these days are so thin. They look breakable. You look…soft and sweet.”
Samantha ducked her head and let her curly hair fall over her face. She certainly didn’t look like most of the Carver witches. Her family had a history of willowy women, while Samantha herself took after her Hispanic father’s heritage. His blood had given her curves and breasts. It had made her plush while other Carvers were supple.
Ciaran held out his hand and invited her into bed. She let him pull her down into his embrace. Had the crystal ball downstairs showed her this, she would have scoffed and laughed. Ciaran held her so gently, so sweetly.
Who was this man that had swept into her life? There was a disconnect between the story she knew and the man he was. Samantha wanted to know more before she fulfilled her part of the bargain. A suspicion told her he was a better man than her family told her.
Still, something from hell hunted him. Samantha did not know what happened to mark him by something so infernal. The smell of sulfur tickled her nose as she wondered if she should allow herself to get tangled up with Ciaran. She felt her heart strings slowly wrapping around the idea of him, around the way he treated her and touched her, holding every bit of it dear.
If she had to pull herself away from him, it would hurt. Their bodies gravitated toward one another, arms encircling each other until their form became one. It felt natural.
Samantha needed to remind herself that her great-grandmother had cursed him for a reason. Each beat of his heart beneath her ear tried to chase the thought away, but she held onto it. This couldn’t last forever.
Still, the small voice in the back of her mind managed to make it to her lips. “Why did my great-grandmother curse you? What did you do to her?”
Ciaran pulled away from her, sitting up to put his back against the headboard.
Chapter Eight
“There was a time when Imogen and I were…” Ciaran looked away from her, somewhat dramatically.
Samantha poked him in the ribs and urged him to keep going. The history between him and her family was shrouded in generations of storytelling. Samantha knew it had been altered, changed to twist him into something to be feared.
Ciaran laughed, the bitter release of breath. “Imogen and I were lovers.”
Samantha shot up. “Okay. Now you’re lying.”
He pressed his lips together in a grim and sorrowful scowl. It wasn’t a lie. The truth was harder to believe than fiction. He’d known she wouldn’t want to believe it and had tried to keep it hidden. She fell back onto the bed.
“I don’t get it. If you were lovers, then why did she curse you?”
“Because I failed her. Because I killed her husband.”
Samantha’s nose wrinkled. “Don’t tell me you pulled some bullshit and murdered my great-grandfather with the idea that you and Imogen could be together after.”
He shook his head. “I never wanted to hurt either of them, but her husband was intent on hurting her. This curse was meant for him. When she crafted it, she’d meant to punish him for the things he’d done. It just so happened to align. The night I visited her with every intention of whisking her away from him, she was preparing to curse him.
“When he caught on to us, to her curse, he attacked her. I did the only thing I could do. I fought back for her. In the fight, I pushed it too far. My anger overcame me and turned me into a vicious sort of monster. I killed her husband to save her, but she only saw the blood on my hands.
“Imogen knew she would never be safe from any man in her life. She had a family to protect, a legacy to ensure. So, she shifted the curse over to me. All at once, I hated her and knew I deserved what she’d done. Lost in what you call the inbetween, I was trapped with nothing more than my thoughts. The night replayed in my mind more times than
I cared to count. Each time, it ended the same, no matter what I wanted to change.”
Samantha reached out and touched his thigh. She wanted to pull him down into her arms and hold him until some warmth returned to his eyes. What happened was beyond her control, a story she never knew.
When Ciaran finally looked to her, there was a bitter resignation in his eyes.
“I’m not going to kick you out if that’s what you’re waiting for.” Samantha wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his hip. She didn’t say it, but she wanted to hold onto him forever. It was strange to think how hard she’d fallen for the man that had been painted as a monster all her life. She would not tell him, knowing he was likely to fly out the window. He did not share the same feelings as she did.
The sound he made was shattering. It was the release of every fear, his body melting into her hers as his arms pulled her up from where she lay and into his embrace. Her head rested against his collarbone, so she could hear the steady beat of his heart. Something wet touched the top of her head. She didn’t look up, but knew he was crying nonetheless.
“Do you think she was your soulmate?” The question fell out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Once it entered the world, no amount of magic could take it back. She had to bite her tongue against anything else that might flow out.
There was silence between them. Samantha wanted to kick herself. She wanted to pull away and roll over to hide her shame. The only reason she asked was because she wanted to be his soulmate. It was a silly idea, a notion brought on by a single night of sexual bliss. This was not the foundation for a relationship, but it was so hard for her to separate the two after being alone for so long.
This was an astronomically bad idea. She should have read her own cards and known to avoid the mess she would inevitably turn herself into. Wanting to hold onto this man, once a monster, would never work out. He was going to get what he wanted from her and walk out.
The Raven Curse Page 5