Witch Hunt

by Layla Nash

  “I would never admit that you can be intimidating,” I said. My heart nearly beat right through my ribs. He squeezed my bare ankle and ran his fingers under my jeans along my calf. He still waited, even as I struggled to breathe and find the right words, and watched me like I was the last sunrise he’d ever see. Which just made it harder to speak. “But if I did, it would make me feel really vulnerable. Really, really vulnerable.”

  He leaned down and planted his fists in the mattress near my shoulders, so he could brush his lips to mine and whisper. “I promise to guard you well, Deirdre, so even if you’re vulnerable, you’ll never get hurt.”

  My vision blurred with sudden emotion, but I couldn’t look away. Maybe if he saw it, if he saw how vulnerable I felt, he would understand how much I put on the line to let him into my world, into my life. Into me.

  Miles smiled and kissed my cheeks, his long lashes almost hiding the gold gaze from me. “I could not have dreamed of a better match for me than you, Deirdre, even if I waited a thousand lifetimes.”

  My throat closed and I almost choked on the surge of emotion. What a thing to say. What an unbearably beautiful thing to think and say and offer. I blinked to clear the tears so I could see him clearly, so I could memorize every detail of his face, and touched his sides. I didn’t know what to say.

  His head dipped until he caught my earlobe in his teeth, biting gently as he murmured, “So let’s get nasty, witch.”

  I laughed and shoved him away. “Oh my God.”

  “Get ready to say that a lot, baby.” He growled and grumbled as I laughed more and squirmed, and Miles tickled me more until we were all tangled up in the sheets and I could hardly breathe.

  Somehow he knew I needed the laughing and teasing instead of just the intensity. He lay on his side next to me and kissed me until everything grew soft and dreamy around the edges, squeezing my breast until my back arched in invitation. His lips left a heated trail down my throat to my shoulder. “Should I keep going?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. I could hardly get my thoughts together to figure out what he meant, but I knew I didn’t want him to stop or go away.

  Miles chuckled and kissed his way down to my breasts, his tongue seeking my nipples through the lace of my bra. My hands slid into his hair as I closed my eyes and focused on breathing. He took his time, nipping and teasing, and reached underneath me for the hooks to the bra. “Should I take this off?”

  “Yes,” I said. I even pushed up on my elbows to give him more room, though my stomach shivered to think he’d see me without the underwear.

  He threw the bra over his shoulder into the corner and I lifted my head enough to frown at where it ended up. “You really shouldn’t—”

  “Worry about the laundry later,” he grumbled.

  Before I could argue or call him a total slob, his mouth engulfed my breast and I forgot everything else except the warm, wet pressure against my skin. I gasped and held onto his shoulders as my thighs clenched and my core started to ache. I expected him to move on but instead he turned his attention to my other breast, the first growing taut as his saliva cooled. My breath came faster and I didn’t know what to do or say. Sensation—his mouth and hands and teeth, the scratch of his beard against my ribs—overwhelmed me and made it impossible to focus.

  Miles slowly retreated from my breast, his tongue teasing my nipples, then he glanced up at me with eyes that reflected gold. He tugged on the front of my jeans, toying with the button. “And should I—”

  “Yes,” I said. I fumbled the button and zipper, trying to haul them off, and Miles laughed.

  He eased up and helped peel the jeans off my hips and then down my legs. He tossed the jeans after my bra and held my ankle, my leg eased up, and breathed in deep from the skin of my calf. “If I knew that was the way to make you agreeable, I would have done it a long time ago.”

  My face caught fire but I couldn’t swallow a laugh, pretending to kick at him again. “You’re unbelievable.”

  He kissed the inside of my ankle, eyes flashing gold, then moved up and up and up until his lips trailed along the inside of my thigh. I held my breath. He stroked between my legs, along the soaked fabric of my panties, and rubbed his chin against my thigh. He watched me, waiting, and I managed to nod permission even though my heart threatened to fly right out of my chest. Every part of me felt heavy and full, just waiting for his touch, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I needed him. I wanted him so badly it hurt. I wanted to wrap my arms and legs around him and never release him, and I wanted him to do the same with me.

  Miles’s teeth grazed my stomach and his fingers glided under my panties, tracing the seam until I shivered and trembled in his hands. I could hardly breathe as his fingers dipped deeper, sliding against my core, and teased with slow circles until my thighs fell open and my back arched and I sighed. It felt so damn good.

  When I finally exhaled, Miles tore my panties off with his bare hands and a little effort, and before I could blink his mouth had replaced his fingers. I gripped double handfuls of the sheets and dug my heels into the mattress, trying to anchor myself to sanity as he grabbed my ass and held me in place. My hips tilted to meet the slow sweep of his tongue and a moan whispered out of me like I’d never heard before.

  He chuckled against me, retreating so he could gaze up the length of my body, and I flushed more when I saw his head between my legs. Miles edged closer and nudged my legs farther apart with his shoulders, fingers digging into my ass cheeks as he lifted my hips, and I sucked in a breath as his tongue circled my clit. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I didn’t know what to do with my legs or feet or anything. I arched and twisted, making indecent noises as the sweet torment continued.

  He took his time, the bastard, and periodically eased off the licking and sucking and nibbling to pay attention to my thighs, my slit, my stomach... but always returning to the bead of nerves that made every muscle in my body tense. He sucked my clit against his teeth and slid a finger deep into my channel and I jumped, crying out, as lightning built in my veins. Heat pooled low in my stomach as pressure built and I started to rock my hips, pressing against him in a desperate plea for more.

  Miles didn’t back off, like I feared, and instead moved faster, harder. His fingers crooked up and pressed deep inside me, rotating and hitting a spot that made my legs jerk and my back arch. I grabbed his head and dragged his mouth to me, moaning my throat raw, a perfect climax hovering just out of reach.

  His lips closed tight around my clit again as he pinched my nipple, twisting it, and the whole world went white. My muscles seized and I nearly levitated, jerking against his mouth and his iron grip on my hips, as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through me.

  He kept moving, kept sucking, with just as much intensity until one climax blended into another, then another, until I shook and trembled and begged him to stop. Only then did he slow, fingers still pressed deep in me, and rested his chin on my hip as he watched me.

  My hands shook when I finally pried them out of his hair so I could cover my face, and sweat beaded on my forehead as I panted for breath.

  Miles smiled a smug little smile and planted a chaste kiss near my belly button. “So you liked it.”

  “Yes,” I said. I wanted to roll my eyes but lacked even that much control over my body.

  “I thought you might.” His fingers retreated and my channel clenched around them, so Miles was smiling more when he sat up next to me, rubbing my thigh and hip. He traced shapes on my stomach and watched the path his fingers drew through the soft sheen of sweat on my skin.

  I wanted to retort but thought better of it. He could have that one. I exhaled, contented and basking in the afterglow of the earth-shattering orgasms. Still, I couldn’t deny that the fire he’d lit inside me was still blazing. My orgasm had only been the started point.

  More. I wanted more. More delirious heat coursing through my body. More of his magical touch, the same that set my skin afire. More of that look in his eyes
when he watched me, and the way his fingers dug into my hips as he struggled to retain control.

  I glanced over at Miles, satisfied to see the unmistakable outline of his hardness straining against his pants. Long. Hard. His cock twitched. The ache that kindled between my legs flared and my pussy throbbed with need again. I shifted my gaze to his face. My cheeks burned when he met my eyes head-on and flickered down to follow to where I’d been looking. He stopped tracing invisible drawings on my skin. A devilish expression crossed Miles’s face. “Hm. Like what you see?”

  As a matter of fact I did, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. It took every ounce of willpower for me to suppress the urge to peek down again and get another eyeful. My imagination ran wild with every filthy scenario I’d ever read or thought about.

  “Did the big bad wolf catch your tongue?” Miles teased, donning as big a smile as I’d ever seen.

  “No,” I said, and threaded my fingers into his hair. “But he did stop way too soon.”

  Miles studied my face with an intensity that shook me to my very core. His face darkened, clouded by what I hoped was half as much desire as I felt, and his eyes shot down to his cock again. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I said, and mentally kicked myself for being so monosyllabic.

  A tortured sound escaped his lips and his hands dug into the cushion.

  I sat up and reached into his lap. Miles raised his eyebrows as he watched me, but he didn’t try to stop me and he didn’t offer to help. Typical lazy wolf. I leveraged my position with a lingering, smoldering look, making eye contact with him, and he leaned back to fold his arms behind his head. Waiting. Patient, just like he’d said.

  I meant to torment him but I ached for more of his touch and I couldn’t delay too long. I worked the zipper and the button on his jeans, and Miles lifted his hips to help me drag them off.

  I didn’t know if it was a sex thing or a wolf thing or a combination of both, but his skin radiated fiery heat. My eyes never left his as I traced the band of his black boxer-briefs, the only layer that separated him from my touch. When I reached for the edge of his underwear to peel it off, Miles stopped me before I could do more than tug.

  “Deirdre,” he said. Unlike every single other time he’d opened his mouth, there was a sudden softness in him that made stop dead in my tracks.

  “Yeah?”

  “We can stop anytime you want to,” he said.

  “I don’t want to.” A pause passed between us, and I pulled at the elastic waistband of his underwear, lowering it inch by painstaking inch. The head of his cock came into view, and I just barely gulped down a holy shit. “I really don’t want to.”

  I bent down, my face hovering over his manhood as I breathed on it and watched his muscles tense, and remained too aware of the weight of his eyes on me.

  “Okay.” Miles cleared his throat. “It might kill me to stop if we go much further.”

  My lips brushed his cock, and a tsunami washed over me. My pussy clenched, and I ran my tongue over the ridge between the head and the shaft. I heard a sharp intake of breath — almost a gasp, really ― from Miles, but I was too busy dragging his underwear out of the way and too transfixed with the taste of him to stop and look up.

  “Good thing I don’t want to stop.” I glanced up again, relishing the sharp look on his face and the sound of his ragged breathing. This was a different kind of power; I could torment him as much as I wanted and he’d love every second of it. I brought my lips to his cock without hesitation, though I didn’t take much of him into my mouth and instead licked with feathery touches. Just to get him revved up a little more.

  “Deirdre,” he moaned, and his hands worked into my hair to dig into my scalp.

  Chapter 51

  Miles

  No sooner than her lips enveloped his cock, Evershaw’s shaft twitched again, pleasure rippling all over his body. He sucked in a breath, closing his eyes, and his mind flashed through all the dirty ways he wanted to take her. Mounting her from behind so that he could pummel her relentlessly. Her on top of him, just on the cusp of another orgasm, while he grabbed her waist and pounded into her, again and again. Her body bent over a couch, hands outstretched to support herself against a wall as he rode her.

  He groaned as her tongue roamed over the underside of his cock. The images in his head dissolved, replaced by the memory of Deirdre’s pleasure just moments ago. Her orgasms had come in waves, one rolling into another, and they’d done nothing to calm the primal part of him that had been nearly going out of his mind out of sheer need. She’d flushed red and her nipples hardened and her whole body froze up as her mouth opened in a silent scream of pure pleasure. He loved it. He wanted to see her come over and over and over, he wanted to smell her all over his skin.

  And with the witch’s mouth on his cock, soft skin to his sensitive member, he lingered on the edge of his sanity. Evershaw had never been one to hold back with his women, but things were different with Deirdre. Ever since she’d confided in him, he’d discovered there was a side to him that could accommodate her wishes, that could go slowly, that could practice restraint. He’d do anything for her, including deny himself what he wanted more than anything in the universe in that second.

  That had all been before he’d tasted her. Before he’d run his tongue over her slit and explored her folds, before he’d finger fucked her and felt the agonizing promise of her pussy clenching down on his fingers with each orgasm.

  Evershaw fixed his gaze on her, taking in the view of her bobbing head sucking on his cock and her dark hair spilling across his thighs. No woman had ever taken the full length of his cock in their mouths before, but Deirdre did it with ease for brief moments before retreating and carrying on with her hand, stroking his cock, while she sucked the head.

  “Damn it, witch,” Evershaw groaned as she flattened her tongue in her mouth and brought all of him inside her mouth. She murmured her own pleasure as her arm twisted so she could touch herself, and his entire body shook, awash with pleasure.

  Balls deep, he thought. I want to be balls deep inside her. I want to mark her as mine forever.

  He wrapped his fist in her hair and lifted his hips gently in an exploratory thrust, watching for Deirdre’s reaction. She nodded, her eyes half-lidded and smoky with desire. With his free hand, Evershaw reached down to her breast. Her nipple puckered at his touch, and he squeezed. With a grunt, he thrust again, his rhythm increasing, until tension arced through his lower back and his balls tightened.

  “I’m going to come,” he said, his voice tense. “Fuck.”

  He hovered on the edge, ready to fill her mouth and watch her swallow all that he gave her, and cursed again when the wet heaven of her mouth disappeared. Evershaw gripped the couch cushions as his hips thrust in sheer agony, desperate for relief, as the saliva on his cock cooled in her absence. He growled as the wolf struggled for control so they could grab her and finish what they’d started.

  But Deirdre stood over him, just a little uncertain, then moved forward to straddle his lap and brace her hands on his shoulders as her heated core hovered over his cock. She adjusted her stance to balance and Evershaw grabbed her hips, ready to slam her down onto him and finally feel the velvet heat of her pussy.

  “You’re so fucking wicked,” he said, but the corners of his mouth curled up in anticipation. At least he’d get to see her tits bounce as he fucked her, and that gorgeous look on her face when she came.

  “Never call a witch that,” she breathed, looking down between them as she lowered herself one agonizing inch at a time. She grazed the tip of his cock with her slit, her head falling back so her hair spilled all around them. Immediately, Evershaw’s cock was soaked with her essence, flowing freely and in far greater volume then he’d felt when he’d played with her before.

  Deirdre acted like they hadn’t just hit a crescendo, like they hadn’t just a minute before been teetering over the edge of another release. Well, Evershaw had been, anyway. She took her time, g
rinding her pussy to his shaft, up and down, like they had the rest of their lives to spend doing things her way. And still he hadn’t managed to breach her opening.

  He growled and squeezed her waist, leaning forward to use his teeth on her nipples. “I need to be inside you, witch. Do it.”

  Her eyes bored into his and her entire body quivered as she positioned her clit to rub against his dick in tiny little thrusts that set his blood on fire. He was going to spontaneously combust. Evershaw watched, transfixed and anguished in equal measures, as her body moved against his and her mouth fell open in a moan. He gripped her hips, trying to press her down so he could fill her until she screamed.

  “You’re killing me, witch,” he grunted. She wiggled and went back to those rocking movements that made a flush rise up her chest and throat and fill her face with a rosy pink that reminded him of her slit.

  “Am I?” she said, and then gasped as he caught one of her nipples with his mouth.

  “I told you I didn’t know if I’d be able to stop,” he said, voice strained. “And you’re fucking killing me.”

  “How am I doing that? I’m just – taking my time,” she panted. Deirdre angled herself so there was only a hair’s breadth between her pussy and the head of his cock. She bit her lower lip and watched him like she dared him to do something. Slowly, very slowly, she took just the tip inside her and quivered, eyes closing.

  Evershaw snarled. “If you don’t –”

  The witch sank onto his cock, taking every last inch inside her. Somehow, despite the roughness of his earlier fingering, she was still tight, so tight, but slick, too, and she froze on top of him, eyes snapped shut and mouth partly open as her nails dug into his shoulders.

  Her channel rippled around him, clenching tight to his cock, and a ragged moan ripped from his throat. Heaven. This was heaven. He’d fucking died and Deirdre was his dirty, naughty angel.

  Evershaw’s breath caught but he recovered only a heartbeat later, slamming his hips against her core. His thrusts were shallow compared to the control she had while on top of him, and she lifted up a bit to drop back down on him and ground her clit against him. He locked her hips against his and kissed her, helping her rutting until she moaned and murmured and whispered against his lips.