Which Witch is Willing? (The Witches of Port Townsend Book 4)
Page 4
With the warmth of the blanket tucked around her and the heat of Killian at her back, she instantly dropped off the planet into a deep sleep.
Killian smoothed back the burgundy-black of Tierra’s hair, watching her slumber. The frown constantly marring her forehead relaxed and she looked peaceful and younger than her twenty-six years.
His heart swelled with emotion for his woman. She might not be ready to admit it yet, but she was his. He’d taken her virginity, impregnated her, and then bonded her to him. Eventually, she’d realize that she was good and stuck. While she’d offered her virginity to him, she hadn’t been on board with the others.
What would she do when she found out—
No reason to think about that now. He figured he had time still to reveal what else he’d done to her without her permission. For now, he’d enjoy just holding her in his arms, sharing this moment and this space in time with her.
He couldn’t remember when he’d ever just held a woman. Not to mention, actually slept beside one.
Laying his hand over her swollen belly, he marveled at the answering flutter.
My child.
The wonder of existing as long as he had and never being able to procreate until he’d met this enchanting earth witch, continued to cloud his thoughts and tangle his emotions.
Somehow, he had to heal this rift between them, but the damned woman bewildered him.
After an hour of watching over her sleep, she stirred in his arms, pressing her backside against his rigid cock. He’d been so hard for so long that he’d started to worry his condition might remain permanent.
His arms tightened around her, and he couldn’t help from grinding his throbbing erection against her sweet ass.
She gasped, and he wrapped his hand around her long mane of hair, forcing her head to look at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were wide open, the emerald fire hardening to jade. Before she could utter a word, he sealed his mouth over hers, his tongue breaching the tight seam of her lips, glorifying in the heat that welcomed him back.
Gods, how he wanted to be inside her, lose himself in her softness, ease this tension between them with a dozen or more orgasms.
He had her trapped in his embrace, his leg swung over hers, keeping her in place, as he ravished her mouth. She couldn’t push him away with her back to his front and his hand holding her head immoveable as he plundered her depths, showing her with his lips, his tongue and teeth how much he needed her.
She whimpered, and in his muddled mind he couldn’t differentiate if the sound matched his desire or if it was a plea for him to stop.
Goddess help him, he couldn’t stop.
Desire and need roared inside for him to take, to mark, to master. She was his. No other woman had ever infuriated him or raised him to such heights of passion that he lost all concept of consensus.
He lifted her skirt and tore off her panties, his fingers diving deep and finding her wet. Oh, so fucking wet for him.
That was all he needed. He continued kissing her, not wanting her able to utter one word. Lately everything that had come out of her mouth set his blood to boil.
It was boiling now with a completely different emotion, one that consumed him. He found the bud at the top of her sex and stroked it, glorifying in the jerk and shudder of her body against his.
He freed his cock from his trousers, his fingers never stopping in their deliberate and desperate ministrations. She tensed in his arms, mewling sounds transferring from her mouth to his, the smothered vibrations adding more heat and hunger to the kiss.
He felt her orgasm build and entered her from behind as it peaked. Only then did he break the kiss to bite her neck, sending her soaring into the stratosphere on a strangled scream of ecstasy.
The carnal contractions of her pleasure, sent him rocketing off with her.
8
Tierra lay there stunned, pleasure still quaking her body while anger twisted inside her like ivy choking a tree.
How dare he? Not only had he insisted she rest, then he basically decided to treat her body like his own private playground. Once again, he’d given her no choice.
The man was dead.
Just as soon as she could control her limp limbs, she’d send him back to Hell and let that she-devil have him. They were perfect for each other.
“Stop,” Killian said, the breath of his command caressing the back of her neck, followed by a gentle brush of his lips over where he’d bitten her.
She shivered. The back of her neck was incredibly sensitive, making her body a traitor to her thoughts. “You forced yourself on me.”
“You wanted me,” he growled. “Don’t deny it.”
His jerked inside her, causing her to gasp as banked sensations awakened. He was still hard even though she knew he’d found his release. Everyone currently in Châteaux Morte probably knew it too—as well as any neighboring villages—by the guttural roar that had escaped him.
“Let me go,” she whispered, praying that he would before her body completely betrayed her again. Holy Mother of Earth, how could she be this mad at him and still crave him with a hunger that never seemed to be sated?
“Never.” His teeth bit down on the cord of her neck again and she couldn’t contain the gasp or the arching of her body into his, taking him deeper inside her.
An answering sound more beast than man rumbled up his throat, and he cupped her breasts, molding them in his large hands. Her breasts ached all the time, and having him knead them, pressing them against her sternum, altered her anger into an altogether different type of fever.
A fever with fangs.
“Use me, Tierra. Take me this time. Have your revenge upon me.” He released her, slipping free of her body. She instantly missed his heat and the promise of pleasure his body always called forth from hers. He lay on his back, his arms splayed wide, a challenging glint in his ebony eyes for her to do with him as she wished.
Did she dare do as he urged?
He’d always controlled their love making, and she had doubts that he could turn the reins over to her. At some point, he’d take them back, of that she was sure. But the thought of dominating him, for even a little while, was a carrot she couldn’t refuse.
Dear Goddess, save her, but she wanted him.
She sat up on the bed, her eyes drinking him in. He was still dressed even though his cock pointed skyward from the opening of his trousers. “Take off your clothes.”
His eyes heated with triumph, but he didn’t say anything, he just slid from the bed and slowly stripped.
She gulped at seeing the muscles roping over his flesh. His shoulders were broader than any linebacker, his torso more chiseled than a body builder’s, and his legs as powerful as Hercules.
She had to swallow in order to speak. “Lay down in the middle of the mattress.” She climbed off the other side, to give him room to do as she demanded.
His nostrils flared and his arms tensed as though to reach out for her and drag her back into his embrace. Something in her expression stopped him, and he climbed on the bed, his full back tattoo of a shrouded Grim Reaper holding a scythe standing on the banks of the River Styx seemed to wink at her, encouraging her to continue. His tattoo had the power to house his raven-black wings. It had been a while since she had been cradled within their feathered softness as he made love to her.
In fact, this was the first time they’d come together in an actual bed. Each time before, they coupled in the forest, the Standing Stones, and what she’d started referring to as the Garden of Eden.
When he’d had her earlier, they hadn’t taken advantage of the soft mattress. The joining had been fast, furious, and over too quickly.
Killian settled on the middle, adjusting the pillow behind his head, his eyes never leaving her.
Reaching for the hem of her loose-fitting peasant blouse, she slowly lifted it up and over her head. Next, she released her bra, shaking her hair so that it flowed around her like a curtain, hiding her swollen breasts.
She slid the skirt from her hips and let it pool at her feet, leaving her bare to his heated gaze except for the scrying crystal that hung from an ancient chain, nestled in the valley of her breasts, the multiple stones of topaz, jasper, and tiger’s eye bracelets, and many rings adorning her fingers.
He raked in her nakedness, looking at her with pride as he took in her swollen belly. “Gods, you are stunning. My very own Earth Goddess.”
She flushed at his words. While it had taken her a while to wrap her brain around being pregnant with the fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse’s baby, her body had taken to it with ease. Though now that she’d reached her last trimester, she felt ungainly with her new shape that seemed to increase in size daily. Sexy was the last thing she usually felt when looking at her reflection, but the way Killian regarded her with desire, made her feel not only beautiful, but invincible.
She climbed onto the mattress, and he reached for her. “No. If I am going to take you, use you, get my revenge upon your body, you will have to do as I say.”
He growled a warning low in his throat.
“These are my conditions, or this isn’t happening.”
His expression clearly said that he could change her mind.
“Yes, you could probably change my mind, but you won’t like my mood afterward. It’s my way, or no way.”
He dragged in another deep breath and then reluctantly nodded his agreement to her terms.
Anticipation of having her way with him bloomed in her chest, and she trembled as she straddled him, sitting low on his hips and cradling his erection under the sensitive nub of her sex.
Killian groaned, his hands jerking up to grab her hips. She captured them and placed his rough palms over her breasts. Rather than fighting her, he took to lavishing her breasts with attention, causing her to moan, her head falling back on her shoulders with the pleasure.
He thumbed her nipples into hard peaks, causing her inner folds to weep and contract. She wanted to take him inside her body right now, but didn’t want this to end so soon. She actually had carte blanche to touch him, taste him, have her way with him and she wasn’t going to waste it.
She stroked her hands over his chest to the ridges of muscle in his taut stomach. They tightened under her caress and he arched his hips, his cock sliding along her sex. She sat too deep for him to enter her, but the rubbing against her most sensitive place caused the most delicious of sensations to blossom. She gyrated her hips in a steady rhythm that had Killian twitching under her, guttural sounds escaping his throat.
She wasn’t going to last long and accepted the orgasm that burst through her on a cry.
The climax was instant, and while it satisfied her for a minute—much like a bowl of Rocky Road ice cream took the edge off her hunger—it ebbed too quickly, making her crave more.
She collapsed onto his chest, his breathing ragged under her. Killian’s hands grasped her hips, and she felt him tense under her, ready to flip her over onto her back and thrust inside her.
“Don’t you dare move,” she warned.
He answered her with a desperate grumble. “Tierra, you are killing me.”
She giggled over the irony of her killing Death with sex. She rose and gazed down into his strained face. This was taking a toll on him. She glorified in her female power over this ancient and formidable immortal. “I’m not finished with you yet.”
She arched up and kissed him. His arms snaked around her, one hand splaying over her back, the other buried in her hair. She might have been the one to kiss him, but he took control of it. Colors flowered behind her closed lids and she lost herself in the feel and taste of him. His hand stroked down her backside to the cleft of her bottom, while his other held her head prisoner for his mouth to plunder.
His fingers slid between her slick folds, breached her as his cock rubbed against her clitoris. Spasms shook her body, and she allowed him to play her like a violin until she sang, coming apart in his arms.
Killian emitted a low chuckle, continuing to stroke her curves as if he was a blind man and needed to read her body like a book of brail, committing the feel of her to memory.
“You’ll pay for that,” she muttered. He’d taken control of that orgasm, but she was far from done with him.
“Gods, I hope so.”
She smiled, glad he couldn’t see it with her face nestled in the crook of his neck.
Oh, yes, she’d make him pay.
Killian gloated over Tierra’s latest climax. Control him, would she? Never. He was just indulging her, and in the process, indulging himself with her. It was bloody brilliant to suggest this. Though, he feared he’d have the worst case of blue balls he’d ever experienced if she didn’t take him inside her soon.
Tierra licked and kissed down his torso, and by the sounds coming from her, she reveled in his staggered breathing, the tensing of his muscles, as she lavished attention lower. When she reached his groin, she skipped it.
He cursed, making her smile.
She kissed his inner thighs, the sides of his knees and found the spot where he was ticklish, his reaction feeding her obviously delight.
“Tierra, you’re driving me insane,” he said through clenched teeth. “Take me inside you.”
“Say please.”
The little minx wanted him to beg? He begged for no one. “Be careful what you ask for,” he threatened.
Drunk on power, she taunted him further. “Give in, Killian, and I’ll ease your…discomfort.”
He answered her with a warning growl. “Fuck me…now.”
She laughed, her hand lightly cupping his balls. His hands clenched into fists to keep from grabbing her, tossing her off of him and onto her knees, taking her like a rutting bull.
“One word, just one little word,” she purred and wet her lips with her pink tongue.
His heart pounded in his chest until all he could hear was his own pulse racing through his veins. “Goddamn you woman. Please.” The plea choked him, coming out harsh and dangerous.
Shocked that he actually said please caused her to hesitate, her eyes wide green pools of surprise.
“So, help me Goddess, if you don’t fuck me right now, I won’t be held responsible for what happens next,” he threatened.
She crawled up his body, taking her damn sweet time. His fingers flexed, and she shook her head, her hair brushing his over-sensitive skin. She’d turned him into a twitching bundle of exposed nerves with her teasing.
No one in all his long life had ever teased Death. It wasn’t done, yet his Earth Goddess had taken him on like an equal. She needed to learn a few things…or he needed to.
That was a sobering thought.
She rose above him, taking his cock in hand, squeezing his shaft until his eyes rolled back into his head and he snarled like a beast caught in a trap. Did she have any idea how close to the edge she played?
Obviously not. Only the thought of repaying her in kind, kept him from taking control.
Then she slowly took him inside her. The bliss, the heat, the tightness of joining with her set his world to rights.
At least for a moment.
Inch by inch, she sheathed him with her perfection. Never had he felt pleasure like this with any other woman. Only she could make him feel this alive, this desperate, and this at peace.
Once she had him seated deep inside her, she released an unsteady breath.
Did her taking him like this pain her? “Tierra?”
“Just give me a second, you are really deep in this position. And I feel incredibly full.”
“Am I hurting you?”
She shook her head, her eyes falling closed. Biting her lower lip, she started a gradual, rocking rhythm.
He groaned, needing her actions faster, but then the view above him as she took her pleasure was so erotic he never wanted it to end.
> After a few long minutes of her slowly swaying over him, he grabbed her hips to help increase her movements.
She slapped them back. “No. I’m in control. Now you have to take it as I see fit to divvy it out.”
“Sweetheart, you’re tearing me apart.”
Her lips quirked into the smile of a siren. “Good.”
Good? Holy fuck. Who was this woman? While he preferred the seductress to the hissing kitten, both created levels of frustration he didn’t know how to deal with.
But there were ways he could satisfy them both. When he found and flicked his fingers over her hidden pearl, she didn’t slap him away. Nor did she when he rose and took her nipple into his mouth.
She moaned and started to rise and fall on his cock in a manner that had stars winking in the margins of his vision. Heat infused him until sweat broke out on his forehead. He needed, craved his release, yet he never wanted this to end. He’d happily be tortured like this until he expired from the rapture.
“Come for me, my gazelle,” he urged, his fingers increasing pressure, circling the bud until she wantonly called out his name.
"Yes! Gods, yes," he shouted as the contractions of her release milked his shaft. Grasping her hips, he thrust harder inside her, dragging out her climax and generating his own mind-blowing orgasm.
She collapsed boneless on top of him, her breathing ragged. He wrapped his arms around her, using his embrace as an anchor to earth until he could get his wits about him again.
The woman had the power to unravel him. Part of him feared her effect over him, the other rejoiced.
“You win again,” she murmured.
“I’d say that you won that last one.” He gave a husky sigh of satisfaction.
“You weren’t supposed to take over.”
“This is new for me, so I believe we need to try it again.” And again.
She slapped him. “I’m serious.”