Forbidden Magic

by Jennifer Lyon

  “Yes you are. Not now, not tonight. Because this is our time. My time.” Uncrossing her arms, she lifted her hands to his shoulders. “I get one chance at caring, at experiencing this kind of love. I’m going to live every second, feel every sensation, each scent and taste.”

  “Love?” The word branded his brain and thrust it into neutral. She couldn’t love him.

  Could she?

  Her face shadowed. “I know you don’t love me. I’m not your soul mirror. But for me…” A pool of raw honesty filled her gaze. “It’s been you since I met you. And that’s enough.” She looked away, the lines of her face softening with sadness. “It’s all I’ll ever have.”

  Deep in Ram, the need to grab her to him, hold her tight and protect her with every last breath in his body clawed to be free. She was his. The most basic part of him was demanding the right to claim her.

  But she wasn’t his to claim. Ram had understood since the day he’d attacked that young witch that he had no right to love. To be loved. His grandfather had warned him not to let his emotions rule him.

  Ever.

  Or he’d lose control of the dark side of himself. Just like he’d lost control that day he’d chased Britney.

  Ginny? She was all-the-fuck-over his emotions. If he loosened the reins, if he touched her again, tasted her, breathed her in…

  And then she left him by ascending?

  He would crack. Break. Become a monster of epic proportions. It would destroy him.

  “I can’t,” he said stubbornly.

  Determination firmed up her expression and she turned back to him. She leaned close, brushing her fabric-covered breasts across his back, her breath fanning his neck. “Can’t what? Care for me?”

  Every movement sent shards of pleasure right down his spine. He clenched his jaw, fighting his body.

  “Or have sex with me?” she asked in that breathy voice right into his ear.

  His cock jerked, his balls squeezed. Ram whipped his head around. “Not happening,” he ground out. “I can feel the electrical buildup in me getting stronger. I’m not going to use my hands on you and cause you even one second of pain.”

  She dropped her hands down his back, then slid them around his sides to his abdomen.

  His muscles jumped and twitched beneath her touch.

  She put her mouth to his ear. “That’s not a problem. Because you’re not in control here, I am. You keep your hands right there on the edge of the mattress.” She trailed a kiss down the side of his neck.

  While her hands slid down his stomach.

  He couldn’t touch her to stop her. “I don’t have sex this way.” He stayed in control. Always. No emotion. No vulnerability. He surrendered nothing when he had sex.

  She undid the button on his pants. Lifting her lips from his shoulder, she looked into his eyes. “With me, you do. You’re safe with me, Ram. Free to let someone else be in control so you can just feel.” Sliding her hand into his pants, she traced the head of his cock.

  His body bowed from the fiery sensation of her gentle touch. And her powerful words.

  She stared into his eyes. “Uh uh. No moving unless I tell you.” Color darkened her face. “You’re mine for a little while. We’re going to make memories together, and you are going to hold onto them for both of us, forever.” She shoved his pants aside and closed her fingers around his shaft, her thumb gliding over the tip. “Say it, Ram. Say you belong to me for this moment in time.”

  His head spun from her touch.

  And her demands. Her sheer confidence in what her touch was doing to him. He could see it in her eyes—they were clearing to a sharp green.

  Gripping the edge of the bed, he ground out, “No.” Struggling to hold on to himself, to keep her from ripping him open and releasing all the darkest parts of him that he kept ruthlessly locked down.

  She hissed low in her throat. “You will.”

  Damn that was hot. Ram fought not to push his cock deeper into her hand. Fought to remember he could hurt her. And she could destroy him.

  She took her hand away, got off the bed, and stood in front of him.

  He should get up, leave, put an end to this.

  Protect himself. And her.

  But he couldn’t look away from her. He sat transfixed, watching as she grasped the edge of her shirt and pulled it up. He sucked in a breath as he watched her belly revealed, her ribs, then her breasts.

  Dropping the shirt, she shook out her hair, the long strands falling around her like midnight. Clad only in her black panties, she was a vision.

  A primal need to claim her roared over him. The battle between the woman he wanted, needed, craved, and the fear that he could only be worthy and whole if he stayed in control. Cold and remote. Distant.

  But if he got her to bend to his will, his way. Seduce her to his will. Then he’d be in control. Focusing on his goal, he said, “Come here, Ginny. I can’t touch you, but I can taste you.” Oh hell yeah. He didn’t need his hands, he’d use his tongue on her mouth, her nipples, down her belly to the lush place between her thighs.

  She drew her hands up her thighs, followed the curve of her hips, trailed up her sides until she cupped her breasts. Lifted them. “Taste these?”

  He zeroed in on her swollen, ripe nipples. His heart pounded. He could do this. “Yes.”

  “No.”

  He jerked his gaze up and narrowed his eyes. She was challenging him, fighting him for dominance. And something much deeper—his heart.

  He couldn’t use his hands. Couldn’t touch and stroke her into a frenzy of need that made her blindly desperate for him. “You’re pushing me, little angel.”

  She brushed her thumbs over her nipples. “Damn right. It’s your turn to submit. To trust me.”

  He lunged up. “Ginny.” His voice came out a low, thick growl. Every fiber of his being wanted to sweep her up, lay her down and teach her the penalty for taunting him. Make her beg with need, then scream with pleasure.

  She didn’t even flinch, but stared back at him while releasing her breasts. Then she began sliding her hands down her belly. To the edge of those panties. “You’re strong enough to do this, Ram. Trust me now, then trust yourself to handle it when I’m gone.”

  She knew. Knew him right to his deepest fears. No one else knew him like that, and the intimacy spun through him like a tornado, ripping holes in his protective walls.

  He clenched his fists against the storm, struggling to not dive at her, pull her hands away, drop to his knees and rip those panties off her. Mine, he thought wildly. He was only dimly aware of his own pants sliding lower on his hips.

  Fingering the edge of her panties, she kept his gaze. “I will fight dirty for you, Ram. Because you’re worth any price. I’ll risk loving you, getting my heart broken and being forced to ascend. But I will not take any less than all of you. I won’t let you hold back that one part of yourself, the one you protect, by giving you control.” She pushed her panties over the curve of her hips and shimmied them down her legs. “Either we make sensual memories filled with whatever emotion you can give me, or we do nothing.”

  Flaming desire roared in his head. She stood there naked and so beautiful he couldn’t breathe. Only stare. And want.

  “Now if you were willing to belong to me, to submit to me…” she drifted her fingers down into the hair that shielded her sex.

  “Yes!” he rasped out, his chest heaving even as he knew he was losing the battle.

  She tilted her head, her eyebrows rising. “Yes what?”

  He couldn’t believe he was doing this. For the first time since he was a teenager, he relinquished control. But this was Ginny. His angel. A wall inside him shattered. “Yes. I belong to you.” He sucked in a breath, feeling years of restraint melt away. He bore his stare into hers and his voice deepened with meaning, “You are mine, now and always. I will fight the devil himself for you.” He was in agony to have her, to feel her body claim him. But his hands, he still couldn’t touch her, would not
risk hurting her with the live electricity snapping inside him.

  She stepped out of the panties pooled at her feet and walked to him. Putting her hands on his waist, she looked up into his eyes as she dragged her hands down, catching his pants then pushing them down. “For as long as we have—”

  “I won’t let anyone take you from me.” He saw her face flush, her nipples hardened, and her scent thickened with arousal. She loved him claiming her. “You started this, angel. You wanted all of me, you have it. Now what?” He shuddered with the dual cravings ripping through him. “I can’t, won’t, touch you with my hands.”

  Her eyes flared hot green as she stroked his cock from the head to his balls. Then she slipped her hand deeper, cupping his sac. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.” He’d give her anything if she just kept touching him. “Can’t hold back much longer.” His cock throbbed mercilessly. Too many needs surged inside him.

  “On the bed. Wrap your hands around the headboard. Don’t let go.” Her voice flowed with command.

  He sank onto the bed, went flat on his back and grabbed the thick iron headboard. Before he could even test its strength, he felt her straddle him, her thighs spread wide. Then she lowered herself until his cockhead touched her soft, moist center.

  She hesitated.

  Ram dug his heels into the mattress and clenched his hands around the railing. He hadn’t gotten her ready, hadn’t touched her or kissed her… “Baby, are you wet enough?” He didn’t know if he could hold back.

  “Shh, I’m a little new to this, but I’ll figure it…oh!” she pressed down an inch. Then another. And another.

  She was slick, wet, it felt so damned good. Ram squeezed the headboard. “More, angel. Take more.”

  She pushed down, her body hot and tight. Nothing felt this good. Only Ginny. She paused, then pushed again.

  Ram arched as she took him right to his balls. His heart pounded; his body broke out in icy-hot pleasure. He struggled to be still, let her body adjust to him. “Feel good?” he asked her.

  She put her hands on his chest, leaned down, and kissed him. Hot, opened mouth, her tongue demanding entrance. She tasted all his mouth, as if learning him, while rocking her hips.

  Ram was on fire. Her tongue filled his mouth while he filled her body. She pulled back, looked into his eyes. “More.”

  “Ride me. Hard as you need to. Ride until you explode.”

  She pushed up, lifted her hips, and came down.

  Ram thrust up, meeting her in a slap of bodies that inflamed him. He watched her mouth part, her eyes begin to dilate. She liked it. “Harder,” he rasped out.

  Something broke free in her, and Ginny rode him. Her breasts bounced, her hair swaying, he could see the fire in his angel as she rode him for all she was worth.

  Fearless and free and so stunning he couldn’t look away.

  Her thighs clench hard around him, her internal muscles gripped his cock and he knew her orgasm was racing toward her. He seized the railing harder to keep from touching her.

  Instead he used words. “You’re mine, Ginny. I won’t let anyone take you from me.”

  She exploded, her body convulsing around him. Pure light shot out from her skin to surround her in ethereal beauty.

  Ram saw it, felt the light touch him as pleasure raced down his spine and detonated. He pounded into her as he came, drowning in the intense pleasure.

  He barely felt the burning in his hands wrapped around the iron headboard.

  Chapter Nine

  Ginny lay on Ram’s chest, feeling his heart beat against her breasts. She could still feel him deep inside her body.

  Warmth spread through her. She loved Ram. He cared for her, cared enough to at least fight. It wouldn’t work, of course. How do you fight an angel? Yet she loved hearing him say it, loved feeling like she mattered.

  A smell singed her nostrils. Like…burning flesh and metal. She felt Ram move beneath her.

  Alarm chased out the languid feeling. Lifting her head, she looked up.

  Sparks flew and smoke curled up from her iron headboard where Ram gripped it. The bars beneath his hold were softening, bending.

  Realization slammed into her. Oh God, he was a human soldering iron. Bile rose in her throat. “Ram! Let go!” She shot up to her knees, barely feeling him slide from her body as she grabbed his forearms. Hot skin. Bunched muscles.

  “Don’t touch me,” he shouted, lifting his body and throwing her off him. “Stay back.”

  Ginny landed on her butt on the other side of the bed. Staring in utter horror at him.

  Sweat poured down his face and every muscle bulged and rippled. Then he gave a mighty pull.

  The entire headboard broke apart. Ram lifted the pieces over his head, careful not to hit her. There were chunks of misshapen iron stuck to his hands, and sparks shooting from his fingers, melting the iron into his hands. Oh God…

  The smell made her stomach heave, but she focused on trying to help him. “What do I do? Tell me!”

  “Just stay clear.” His voice was tight but calm.

  She watched as he rested the long piece of ruined wrought-iron melted to his hand on the bed. Shifting in an unbelievably fast motion, he shoved his foot onto the hot piece of iron and pulled.

  She heard his skin rip as the iron came free. But before she could even blink he grabbed the piece stuck to his left palm and fingers in his bleeding right hand, and ripped that off too.

  “Your hands!” They were torn and bleeding. She reached for him, desperate to do something. Anything. Maybe her magic would rise and—

  Ram leaped off the bed, then turned, his face dark and violent. “I’ll heal, but you can’t touch me.” His gaze flickered to the ruined headboard, then back to her. His mouth flattened and white lines appeared like cracks. “If I had touched you, I would have burned your skin right off.”

  She hated that bird and dropped her gaze to glare at it. “Shit, your tat.” A second streak of jagged lightening was shooting from the thunderbird’s eyes. She looked up. “I’m calling Carla. You said she might be able to see what the creature is doing when the bird woke more. You now have two streaks of lightning, and I think…” She trailed off as she scooted across the bed so she could look closer. “His eyes, they are slightly opened.”

  He stood utterly still, blood dripping from his hands.

  Fear and worry made her frantic. Was he shutting down, pushing her out? Her chest felt like a house fell on it. Unable to draw a breath, she put her hand on his hip, desperate to keep the connection between them. “Please.”

  “Use my cell. Carla’s in my contact list.” Then he turned and strode into the bathroom.

  Her lungs unlocked. She grabbed the phone, frantic to find a way to save Ram.

  ***

  Fifteen minutes later, Ginny opened her door, wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that she’d thrown on. Sutton West stood on her porch, his bald head gleaming in the porch light. He was bare-chested, a sign that he’d used his wings to get to there. He had one beefy arm around Carla. She looked tiny next to him.

  Ginny stood back as they both came inside. “Ram is in the family room.”

  Sutton lifted his arm from Carla, strode past her and through the archway dividing the formal living room from the big kitchen and family room area.

  Carla stopped and put her arm on Ginny’s shoulder. “Are you okay, Ginny?”

  The concern in Carla’s voice filled Ginny’s throat. The panic she’d been holding down broke through. “My iron headboard melted to his hands.” The horror of it consumed her as she saw it again in her mind. “He ripped it off, and his hands…oh God.” Tears flooded her eyes and ran down her face.

  Carla’s gaze filled with sympathy and she wrapped her arms around Ginny, holding her for a minute. Then she pulled back and said, “Ram would never have called me, Ginny, he needed you to do that for him. You helped him more than you know.”

  The witch’s kindness surprised her. In the past, it had been
hard to have friends when she had to lie to them about what she was. After a while, it was easier to just have acquaintances. She’d even kept her distance from the witches, because they were too smart, saw too much, and she feared what her father would do to her, or to Eli, if they found out she was a Halfling. Keeping her distance was habit.

  Yet Carla treated her like a friend. Like she mattered too, not just Ram. “Thanks,” she said softly.

  The two of them walked into the family room. Ram was dressed in his black pants and boots and standing behind a huge L-shaped couch. Sutton stood just to one side of his friend. The two men took up a huge chunk of space in the area between the kitchen and family room.

  “My hands are healing,” Ram said, facing Sutton and obviously answering a question. “Not a problem.”

  “But the bird,” Sutton gestured to the thunderbird. “The lightning streaks are new.”

  Carla moved closer and tripped over the rug that ran beneath the sofa and coffee table.

  Sutton reached out and steadied her, as if he’d done it a thousand times. Carla barely noticed—she was focused instead on Ram’s tattoo. “His eyes are cracked open a slit.”

  Ginny moved up next to Ram and put her hand on his arm. “I saw that too.” She looked at the witch. “So the bird is waking? Will you be able to see him, find out what he’s doing?”

  Ram lifted his arm, putting it around her shoulders and pulling her close without touching her with his fingers.

  “I’ll try,” the witch said.

  Sutton put his hands on Carla’s shoulders. “Opening your third eye?”

  Carla nodded.

  “Lean against me, Carly.” He tugged her back to his chest, and cradled her in his arms. “There, I feel your magic rising.”

  Ginny felt a shift in the atmosphere, that must be Carla’s magic. At least it wouldn’t cause bloodlust in Ram. The way Eli explained it, once the soul of the witch mated, her magic didn’t stir the curse.

  Silence fell over the room but for the sounds of their breathing.