“I’m going to make love to you, Emily Morgan.” He groped at her lips between speaking. “And then I’m going to fuck you until everyone on this island here’s you scream.”
The wave of energy that shuddered through her body shattered him. Feeling Emily’s emotions in response, overwhelmed him with need. But also awakened him to everything he needed. Wanted. Had to have. And could no longer live without.
And from the overpowering emotions stabbing into his heart, Emily had the same desires, and he would deny her nothing.
He wanted to take it slow. Treasure this first time. To tease and drive her mad. Now he couldn’t even speak. Only feel, and move.
He released her lips, his tongue lowering to lick the crest of her delicate breasts. She leaned back to give him access, her hands falling to the blanket to arch herself into him.
His mouth drew hesitantly to the peak on her left. He’d wanted to have his mouth on her skin for such a long time. He nuzzled. Teased gently. Savoring this first taste.
Emily moaned, her head falling back. She wanted more. Michael felt it pouring out of her emotions. He suckled, adding a quick nip. He moved to the right and devoured the beaded peak begging for his attention.
Need quivered into her veins. Her head came forward. “Enough playing, Michael. Make love to me another time.” She had waited long enough and refused to wait a second longer.
Michael tossed her down onto the blanket, his hand diving into her fuzzy folds. He cupped it possessively, spreading her with his palm. Her breath hitched, their eyes locking.
“I’m going to eat your peach till it drips down my chin.” He ducked between her thighs. His impact met with a buck and a gasp.
“Oh, Michael.” Her arms went over her head, grasping and twisting the blanket. Her thighs opened wider, meeting him in the air. She throbbed against his tongue.
He didn’t tease. Or explore.
He ravaged. Sucked. Pinched. Drove her breaths to gasps. Her moans to cries.
Her muscles tensed. Her pulse pounded.
Michael groaned, her climax fighting to explode in his mouth. A shock wave of bliss fed into him like electricity gluing him to her. It took everything he had to pull his mouth away, get to his knees, and thrust into her depths.
A storm blasted into his mind. The world thrown into slow motion and chaos all at once. All the years he’d wanted her so badly and not given in… all the years Emily had waited for him to see her for what she really was. His. Always his…
Their eyes met. Frozen. Unable to close or look away.
Michael gripped her thighs, pulling out to his tip and thrust inside again. And again. Filling her. Stretching her. She coated him in liquid heat, her lush orchard erupting into hot peach pie.
More, Emily’s emotions thrust back at him.
“Yes,” he answered her silent request. He charged into her. Her moans luring him to push harder and faster. Black splotches burst in front of Michael’s eyes.
Energy surged out of her, emotions telling Michael what she desired. Oneness. Completeness. Together.
He gripped her thighs lifting her higher, pulling her body into his thrusts. She bucked, her second explosion building. The pie bubbling over, her oven too hot.
“Oh, God! Come now, Michael.” Her white hot peach blew apart around his thrusts.
Nerves screamed. Muscles seized. He drilled hard, filling her.
Blood rushed to his ears, blood pumping hard to keep his heart from bursting open. Or was this Emily’s emotion. He couldn’t tell. Didn’t care. He wanted to feel all of it. Everything she could throw at him. For the first time ever, he didn’t despise his gift. To feel everything she felt was… earth shattering. Mind blowing. And yet perfectly peaceful. It felt like coming home to a warm fire, and her beautiful smile. Her eyes, bright and welcoming.
He looked to see tears forming there.
They had claimed each other. Shared themselves, fully and completely.
He fell over, holding himself up with his arms. Lips falling into hers. His mind taken over by the utter joy emitting from the woman beneath him.
“I love you, Michael Howard.”
He wanted to say the words back to her, but his voice vanished. Her emotions overpowering him. It took a moment for the intensity to lessen.
“Michael?” Her voice was quiet.
“Yes,” he returned in a muffled strain. He lifted his head, to look into her eyes.
“What is it like for you?”
He shrugged, unsure how to answer at first. He wished there was a way to show her. A way for her to feel it as he did. How their emotions mixed in his mind, losing themselves in each other.
“It’s like the most excruciating form of bliss. To feel everything you feel as you’re experiencing it… it feeds me like a drug I will always need more of.”
He stared into her eyes intently. Saying, I love you, suddenly seemed to fall short.
“Emily, you make this gift worth every bit of agony it drags me through. I don’t just know you’re coming, I get to feel it. Exactly like you do. I can’t describe what it feels like to experience your emotions, on top of my own. It’s like… living inside your heart. I could live there forever, if you’ll let me.”
He groaned, the limp worm swimming in her hot peach, tickling her insides with sudden girth.
“So I guess it’s a good thing then?” she chuckled, squirming underneath him.
“If you can’t feel my answer, that’s very much a yes.”
“Good. I was worried that maybe the empathy made it harder for you.”
“In the past, with anyone else, that might have been true. But with you… it’s a good pain,” he breathed out heavily. Addictive... his tone warned. His lips caressed hers gently.
Emily lifted, her hot center sliding upward to meet his groin, tightening around his growth. She let her hips sink gradually downward, pulling along his length.
A groan pushed out of him, down her throat, where she swallowed it and pushed out one of her own. His lips claimed her mouth as if taking up ownership. His chest rocked up and down her body, brushing across her two perfect handfuls, stiffening her peaks to the point of pain.
He took her hands and lifted her arms over her head, pinning them against the sand covered blanket. So much sand. The blanket was covered. He didn’t want to think about the sand they’d be finding in every crevice of their bodies for weeks after this night was over.
A new energy poured out of Emily.
Michael freed her mouth, letting her emotions fill his mind. His eyes flickered open, meeting a seductive grin etching across her face. Her eyes begged to know if he’d gotten her silent message.
He let out a heavy breath. Wow. Just… wow. He understood exactly what she wanted. A wry smile spread across his face.
“Yes, Emily Morgan. I will make love to you now.” He traced her lips in a moist caress with his tongue. “Until I take my last breath on this earth, I will make love to you any time, any place. Give you anything your heart desires.” He took his right hand and lowered it between her legs, palming her fuzzy folds as if claiming ownership. “Whatever my peach wants, my peach gets.”
She giggled.
He really had been the biggest dumbass on the planet for not giving into this, years ago. He thought he knew her so well, but now they were embarking on a new journey, together. His always-there, always-smiling, always-happy, always waiting for him to wise-the-fuck-up, Emily, was not predictable at all.
And as long as it wasn’t her life being threatened, he couldn’t wait to see what surprises she hit him with next.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Melinda sat outside the Wicked Muddy Cafe. They were about to close and Grace had sat down with a cup of decaf for both herself and Melinda. Riley was late. Her nerves were on high alert.
Had he decided to ditch her after all? She tossed the thought away. There had to be a good reason.
She was anxious about Grace meeting Riley, but sensed the café owner
understand why she was meeting him here, rather than at home. Melinda did not dare tell her brothers she was dating someone. Not yet. Grace, however, was tickled to death that Melinda was dating and could not wait to meet the young man.
Although, seeing that Melinda looked a bit sickly over the young man’s lateness got her dander up.
Riley would come. He would. And then she’d have to ruin any good time by opening up and being honest with him. About being a witch at the very least. And what would she tell him about William? Her nerves short-circuited just thinking about the vampire.
It might well happen that she and Riley would get carried away busying themselves all over each other and she’d just chicken out anyway. In the end though, Riley was the winner. So that had to count for something.
“Grace, have you had any more Deane sightings?” Melinda needed to keep her mind busy.
“Not since this mornin’. What did you guys decide to do about ‘em?” She sounded genuinely curious.
“Nothing right now. Just going to see how things play out I guess. Not that they are welcome to just come into our house, or anything like that,” she added, as if it should be a given that the Deanes were still not welcome here. “I suppose it's basically that we don't like that they're here, and definitely don't want them here, but we can't do anything about it, not without cause at least.”
Grace nodded. “Well, I sure hope it all works out. I'd hate to think of dark magic comin’ back to this Island. From the stories I’ve heard, those were scary times to be livin’ on The Demon Isle.”
Melinda heard the now familiar sound of Riley's motorcycle approaching. She glanced around but did not see him. He must have parked down the street, out of sight. Or perhaps she had misheard. There were many other motorcycles on the Isle.
“Well, would ya look at that!” Grace suddenly blurted. “Speakin’ of a Deane sightin’. There's one of 'em now. One of them boys I met this mornin’, he's walkin’ right towards the cafe. Not a bad lookin’ lad, either.”
For the tiniest moment, Melinda was overwhelmed by a cluster of emotions.
Should she get up and leave?
Should she call her brothers?
Should she, and could she, handle this on her own?
Melinda bit her lip and stood up, putting on her most serious, I mean business kind of face.
At the least, she would show no fear.
The Deane’s needed to learn right here and now that the Howard Witches protected this Isle, and that would never change.
Melinda gathered her bravery and spun around.
For the second time that day, the world stopped.
Her eyes were not seeing correctly.
Her chest seized, stealing away her breath.
Had her head just been shoved inside a plastic bag? She’d swear it had, and someone was twisting the plastic tighter and tighter, cutting off her air supply.
Grace had to reach out an arm to steady her. “Melinda?”
She could not answer. Blood rushed to her ears and she couldn’t even hear Grace’s voice. Melinda’s head swam in disbelief. Her voice vanished. Her vocal chords refused to work. There was a pain starting at the bottom of her throat that sliced down through her body as if she was being torn in two.
She expected at any moment for her body to just shatter into tiny pieces. Pieces that would never be put back together.
This pain cutting through her… this is exactly what William’s face had betrayed to her when she’d crushed him earlier that day. Now, it was her turn to get trampled.
“Sorry,” the young man called out, grinning widely. “Didn't mean to be so late, but I got held up. My brother...” he used as an excuse, rolling his eyes.
Melinda swallowed hard, her throat thick and dry.
Her heart skidded across beats so wildly she feared it might stall.
“Melinda, what’s wrong?” He reached out to her, but she jerked out of his grasp.
“Riley?” she choked out in a hoarse whisper. “Riley... Deane?”
##
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Bye Bye Bloodsucker (Wicked Good Witches Book 3) Page 13
