mythean arcana 07 - witchs fate

by Linsey Hall

  “Bloody hell, Sofia,” he rasped as he gripped the back of her head with one big hand. His other palm pressed against her lower back, forcing her closer to him.

  She reached up and grabbed his hand at her head, then forced it down to the couch. “No, damn it. I’m in charge. You’re always in charge. It’s my turn now.”

  He growled at her, his golden gaze glinting in the dim light that shined through the window, but when she pressed her mouth back to his, he put all his anger into his kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and bucking his hips so that his cock pressed against her clitoris.

  She shuddered and moved to get closer to that amazing feeling. Her head spun with desire. All she could smell was him, all she could feel was him.

  With a shiver, she broke the kiss and scooted back. Her hands trembled as they tugged at his shirt. He sat up and ripped it over his head, revealing the broad expanse of muscle that made her mouth water.

  “Gods, you look good,” she said as she ran her hands over his broad pecs and the ridges of his abs. His shoulders were so big that she didn’t know where to start.

  When her gaze caught on the new tattoo on his shoulder, a pang hit her heart. She almost growled. She had no time for soft feelings.

  All she had time for was this. Fucking him.

  Her hands and gaze went straight to the fly of his pants, to the cock that pressed angrily against the rough material. It was so big that it made the breath catch in her throat.

  With trembling hands, she undid the button of his fly and dragged the zipper down. He groaned, low and guttural, as it parted to reveal black cotton forced upward by his cock.

  She gripped it, shocked by its size, and rubbed. Dampness at the tip made her pussy clench. He wanted her. As much as she wanted him.

  She glanced up to see it reflected in his gaze. He watched her avidly. His hands went to her shirt and began to pull it up. She pushed them away.

  “No. I’m in charge,” she said.

  “Sofia,” he growled in warning. Then her shirt disappeared. Her bra followed.

  “Bastard,” she hissed.

  “Bloody hell, you’re lovely,” he whispered.

  She glanced at his face, seeing awe in his eyes. It only pissed her off more. If he hadn’t become a warlock, she’d be the recipient of that look every night. Instead, all she had was this. One night.

  She looked back at his cock, too angry to look at him. How could this rage and desire coexist so easily within her? It couldn’t be healthy, but she didn’t care.

  Her gaze was rapt as she drew the fabric down. His shaft, long and thick, emerged. It was so beautiful it made her mouth water. Veins laced the sides and the head was graceful and gleaming.

  Her first thought was that he would never fit. Her second was that she was determined to try. She gripped his cock, savoring his guttural groan and the way it jerked in her hands.

  So smooth. So hard. She pumped her fist, her mouth watering as she watched the dusky head disappear and reemerged from her hand.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Malcolm groaned as Sofia’s hand worked his cock. Gods, how he’d dreamed of this. He watched as her small, delicate hand moved up and down. A bead of fluid gleamed at the tip. With her thumb, she swiped at it, spreading it over the head of his cock.

  His hips jerked, driving his shaft upwards. He wanted to bury it inside of her so badly that he shook. To feel her accept him as he plowed deep…

  But bloody hell, she was so much smaller than he was. He glanced up to see her biting her lip, her gaze avid on her hand. Her pretty breasts trembled as her arm moved.

  When she reached for her fly, his heart threatened to pound out of his chest.

  He’d know her tonight. “Do you have protection?” he rasped. Mytheans didn’t carry disease, but pregnancy was a concern. As much as the though of her carrying his child made his heart swell, now was not the time.

  She nodded. “A spell.”

  He pulled her head down and kissed her. She moaned and parted her lips.

  Once she was panting, she scrambled off his lap and toed off her boots, tugging her jeans and underwear off at the same time. Her dark curls drew his gaze and worry struck him again. He remembered how tight she’d been around his fingers.

  In a second, she was back atop him. She gripped his shaft in her hand, rising up on her knees. Her gaze gleamed with desire and anger.

  He gripped her arms. “Wait.”

  “No.” Her eyes flashed.

  “I want to make sure you’re ready for me.”

  “I am.”

  “No, you’re angry and want to fuck,” he growled. “But you’re small. The first time I sink inside you, I want it to be like sliding home. I want you desperate for it.”

  She struggled, trying to tear out of his grip. “I just want to fuck you, Malcolm.”

  “You’ll get to. Eventually.”

  “Fuck you,” she hissed as she tore out of his arms and got to her feet. She turned to leave.

  No way in hell was he letting her get away. He gripped her arms and pulled her back until she sat on his lap, her legs straddling his own. His cock settled into the cleft of her lush arse.

  Her head tipped back on his shoulder and she moaned. “Yes. Gods, yes, Malcolm.”

  “Good girl.”

  She growled at him, but the sound turned to a moan when his fingers found her pussy. She parted so easily, welcoming. His cock throbbed against her as his fingers dipped into her wetness.

  A groan rose in his throat as he remembered how pink and beautiful she’d been, how delicious she’d tasted. He imagined swiping his tongue over her clitoris as his fingertips made circles around the tight bud.

  She shuddered, her breasts trembling. The sight of her spread out over him, her legs forced far apart as his big, rough hand disappeared between her legs made him thrust his hips unconsciously, seeking her tight warmth. His cock, lubricated with his own wetness, slid between her lush cheeks.

  Just the feel of it, the thought of it, of one day fucking her there, made him almost lose his seed. He wanted to know every part of her. Her body. Her mind.

  But for now, he had this. The feel of her splayed over him, trembling as he sank a finger into her tight sheath. She was so hot and wet.

  She moaned and writhed, torturing his shaft and his mind.

  “More,” she begged, moving her hips.

  He gave her what she wanted, pressing deep into her tight, hot channel.

  Gods, how he wanted to see her come, to feel her tighten around him and her body shake. He rubbed her clitoris with his thumb, thrusting his fingers within her, relishing the way her body drew him deep.

  The way she felt made his head swim. He dragged his gaze from her body, unable to take the stimulus, and bit the side of her neck.

  She moaned, tilting her head, and he bit her again, lower.

  “Gods, yes,” she said, shuddering.

  He ran his hand down the length of her body, cupping her full breast as his fingers worked her cunt. She was hot and wet, her slickness easing the way for his thrusting fingers.

  “Please, Malcolm,” she moaned. Her thighs trembled and her back arched. “Fuck me.”

  His cock grew even harder at the thought of lowering her onto his shaft and feeling her take him deep.

  But he wanted her to beg him with her body, to feel her clench around his fingers and gasp in his ear. He wanted her so desperate that his cock filled a gnawing need inside of her. And fates, how he loved her orgasm. If he were inside of her, he’d be so distracted that he wouldn’t be able to savor the shivers and moans that came with her pleasure.

  “I’m going to make you mine,” he growled into her ear.

  She shuddered. “Gods, yes.”

  He curled his fingers forward to press against that sensitive spot inside of her and circled his thumb faster. The feel of his fingers sinking into her pussy made him want to bury his face in her and drink her down.

  When her muscles tensed a
nd her thighs began to shake, he steadied his rhythm. Her sheath clenched and she cried out.

  “Please, Malcolm. I need you inside of me.” Her voice was desperate at his ear.

  He withdrew his fingers and gripped her hips, raising her up over his shaft. She was so small beneath his big hands, and he prayed to the gods that she could take him.

  When he felt her hand gripping his shaft and positioning him, he lowered her, throwing his head back and groaning at the feel of her sex kissing the tip of his cock.

  “Please, Malcolm,” she begged, trying to force herself down upon his shaft.

  He gritted his teeth and lowered her slowly, hissing in a breath as her pussy accepted him. She was tight and hot and so delicious that he wanted to thrust deep and fast to feel her close around him.

  Instead, he lowered her slowly, fighting the urge out of fear of hurting her.

  He heard a slick sound and realized that she was touching her clitoris. The mere idea made his balls draw up tight and his orgasm threaten to overwhelm him.

  “Fuck yes,” he rasped. “Take your pleasure.”

  “More, Malcolm,” she moaned.

  He lowered her farther, almost half way, resisting his desperate need to thrust hard.

  “Gods, you’re big.” She writhed on him, trying to take more of him. “You won’t hurt me.”

  “Make yourself come and I’ll fuck you as hard as you want.”

  He heard her hand speed up. Seconds later, her back arched and a cry escaped her throat. Her thighs shook and her pussy began to clench around him, a delicious silken grip that stole his control.

  He surged home, burying himself to the hilt and savoring her cry of pleasure. She was coming on his cock now, her body shaking and one hand gripping his hair. Pain tugged at his head, but he liked it.

  He replaced her hand with his own, wanting control of her pleasure, and began to thrust, bouncing her on his shaft. She writhed and trembled as he made her come again. Her skin was slick on his, delicious.

  The feel of her pussy, of knowing that he gave her that orgasm, made pleasure streak through him. He shuddered as she gripped his cock.

  Sofia was dying from pleasure. Malcolm’s cock speared her and his hand was magic on her clit. She couldn’t control her trembling or the orgasms that wracked her body, sending pleasure through every one of her nerves.

  Malcolm’s huge body was hot and hard beneath hers. His plunging cock stole her breath and forced a continuous orgasm to explode through her. She was trapped within a vortex of sensation.

  His hand pressed against her upper chest, fingers lightly encircling her throat, as if owning her. The rage that she’d felt all night tried to flare at the thought, but it was forced away by another surge of pleasure as his cock plunged deep.

  His motions picked up speed, his cock thrusting harder. He growled and his fingertips left her clitoris. He gripped her hips as he thrust, his motion losing all grace. He was like a powerful animal and she was trapped in his grasp, helpless to the feelings that overwhelmed her.

  He stiffened beneath her, gripping her hips as he roared, his orgasm triggering her own. She shuddered as the pleasure wracked her, a kaleidoscope of sensation, as his cock plunged deep and hard.

  She rode the wave, finally collapsing on top of him, woozy from pleasure and exhaustion. Malcolm’s breath came harsh in her ear, his chest heaving beneath her.

  “That was amazing.” His voice was rough, hoarse.

  It had been. And it terrified her. She scrambled to get away from him, but he stood, lifting her into his arms.

  Oh shit. Her heart couldn’t take any tender post-sex cuddling. She was too close to falling for him already.

  “Where’s your bedroom?” he asked.

  “Upstairs. But I think you should take the couch.”

  He’d started carrying her to the stairs before she even finished her sentence. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  It was almost frightening to be carried upstairs by a man. She wasn’t worried about falling—he was so big she had no reason to fear that. It was the intimacy that would come if they slept in the same bed.

  She’d slept in bed with him last night because she’d been worried about him and couldn’t bear the thought of being parted from him. But now he was conscious. It would be too intimate. The last time she’d slept in bed with a man had been nearly a century ago. Henry had been her attempt at having a real relationship. A boyfriend.

  But it hadn’t worked, because she’d kept comparing him to Malcolm. Since then, she’d kept it to one-night stands when the loneliness got to be too much.

  Malcolm found the bedroom without any problem and set her on the bed. It was wide enough for two, but barely, especially considering his size. He flicked on a lamp to reveal her familiar quilt, bedside table, dresser, and lamp. The butter yellow walls gave the room a cozy feel that was at odds with her emotions. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of Malcolm’s huge, beautiful body. His skin gleamed in the low light.

  “I really think you ought to sleep downstairs,” she said.

  “I don’t think so.” He climbed over and sat on the other side of the bed, then pulled her into his arms so her back nestled against his front.

  Warmth and comfort suffused her. If only she could have this forever.

  She shook the thought away.

  Impossible.

  “I want you to come live with me,” Malcolm said.

  Her head snapped back as she tried to look at him. “What?”

  “It was a mistake to give you up.” His voice was gruff. “I own the action and won’t make excuses, but I regret it. I made the wrong choice.”

  Her heart thundered. “When did you decide this?”

  “Honestly, probably a long time ago. Though I ignored it. There was no other option. But after you left the apprenticeship, my world was darker than it’d ever been.”

  “But you wanted the power.” She glanced up. It looked like he was about to argue, but he closed his mouth. He wouldn’t blame it on his upbringing, she realized. Though that really was the reason he’d chosen magic over her.

  The reason didn’t matter now, not when they couldn’t be together, but it helped her understand.

  After a moment, he said, “Yes, I wanted power. But I was mistaken. I returned to my sorcerer clan after the apprenticeship, but it no longer made sense the way it once had. The way they live… No love, no real affection. They’d be better off as loners, but Mytheans are always stronger as a group. So they built some strange bond based on the worship of power. But to do what? It’s all well and good to have immense capability, but after a while, what do you use it for? What’s the point?”

  “I never thought I’d hear you speak this way.”

  He shrugged. “Time. Life. They change a man. I built my fortune and reputation with power, but it’s been empty for a long time.”

  She bit her lip, then asked, “Did you leave the sorcerers? You live alone now.”

  “I did. I went to my father’s people. Wulvers. Being a half blood is probably why I didn’t fall completely in line with the sorcerers.”

  “Did you like it there?” Though it was a bad idea to grow too close, she found that she was ravenous for information about him.

  “It was all right. I got to meet my brother, Felix. And to know my father a bit before he died. But even that didn’t suit me. I was searching, I think, for what I felt with you. I never found it.”

  Sofia’s hands twisted in the comforter.

  “When this is all over, I want you to live with me,” he said again.

  She tried to crush the stupid desire that welled in her at the idea. “What about my village?”

  It was a dumb question. They couldn’t be together, so it didn’t matter. She would be with them no matter what—at least the ones who chose to relocate with her.

  “We can live with them if you prefer,” Malcolm said. “Establish a new settlement somewhere. The curse shall no longer apply since it’s n
ot Bruxa’s Eye. I’ll help you build it.”

  Aching want was crushed by dark disappointment. “Build it? You’re a warlock. Your specialty is destruction. And we can’t be together. You know that. You’ve heard the stories. You knew Laira. You saw what happened to her. Fate will find a way to tear us apart. I can’t take that. Not to mention, the way fate does its work, it could be terrible.”

  “I can make it work. I can keep fate off our backs.”

  “How? By not loving me?” she asked. Her throat tightened at the thought. She blinked quickly, trying to hold back tears.

  “Yes. It’s the way it has to be.”

  He didn’t love her. She knew that. He might have once, but he no longer did. Not loving was safest. It had to be that way.

  But why did it hurt so badly?

  “If we’re careful, we can make this work.” He rubbed his hand gently over her arm as if he couldn’t get enough of touching her.

  “By careful, you mean you’ll never love me. Never make promises. Never really be with me.”

  “It has to be that way.”

  He was right. It did have to be that way. But she couldn’t accept so little. He’d hurt her once before and she couldn’t let it happen again. She’d be so close to what she wanted, only to have it slowly eat away at her heart until it was devoured entirely.

  She pulled out of his grasp and curled up on her side, away from him. The slight soreness between her legs only reminded her of what they’d had. “It’s not enough for me, Malcolm. It wasn’t then, and it isn’t now.”

  He lay beside her and pulled her to him. Sofia stiffened.

  “Just for tonight,” he said.

  Slowly, she relaxed.

  Just for tonight. Because tomorrow they would be through.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Mud squished beneath Malcolm’s boots as he made his way through the jungle alongside Sofia. It was still thirty minutes before dawn and Sofia lit the way with her wand. Kitty went ahead, jumping from tree root to tree root to stay out of the mud. His wulver night vision sufficed to get him through the forest, but he kept glancing at Sofia, who was lit by the light of her wand. She was once again in the guise of a Crone, but he could see her beneath it.