by AJ Hampton
“Yes,” she screamed, her voice echoing into the night. She didn’t care.
Her body was on fire. Never had anything felt this decadent. His mouth was soft, his tongue hot, and there was the faintest hint of his cheeks, rough with growing hair that scraped along her thighs. Trent pushed two fingers inside and twisted them in and out. Her orgasm built fast.
“Oh. God,” she moaned, her hips lifting from the blanket.
Trent growled, increased his tempo. Hard flicks pressed against her clit before he sucked it into his mouth. His hungry sounds pulsed through her, gave her the nudge she needed to let go. Pleasure started slowly, wound her stomach in a tight knot. She extended her leg, and her foot scraped against the blanket. Paralyzed. The well of pressure broke. Magic exploded.
When she came to, he was looking at her from between her legs. She could have come again just from the look in his eyes. He stalked up her body, making sure to drag himself against her. His cock was thick, the tip wet as it bumped against her pussy. She lifted, and he pushed her dress over her head. It fell to the ground and left nothing between them.
She leaned forward, captured his lips in a fierce kiss that was so full of passion it was hard to imagine anything being more intense than that exact moment. She was wrong. His fingers laced with hers, and he pushed her arms over her head. He looked down at her, a curling lock of hair tickling her forehead.
“You’re mine, Sam.”
Licking her lower lip, she wrapped her leg around his thigh, brought it up until she hooked his ass. Her back lifted off the ground; she pressed down on him.
“Shut up and fuck me.”
His laugh was rich, throaty. “That’s my girl.”
He let go of her hands long enough to grip his erection. She looked down, drawn to the sight of his moving against her. She tensed. As the anticipation mounted, she dug her nails into his back. Not quite entering her, he pressed his cock through her folds, rubbed back and forth through her arousal. He pushed against her clit. It sent a wave of pleasure through her. Bastard.
When he cupped her thigh, the movement pushed her leg against his waist. In one smooth, powerful thrust, he penetrated. Her eyes shot open. It felt like she couldn’t breathe. He pulled out, pushed back inside until he was buried as deeply as he could go. He did it again and again, until no matter how hard she tried to keep her eyes open, they closed. She’d expected pain. A flash of light. A searing bolt of lightning to strike down upon them. The only thing she experienced was a feeling of completeness. The wind danced around them. It fluttered over her skin, heightened every sense. Then there was the magic. It poured from her, wrapped around her lover as he growled.
“You okay?” he asked, looking down at her when she stilled.
His eyes were dark, smoldering with desire. Curls hung in front of his eyes. She scratched her fingers through the stubble at his jaw and wrapped them around the back of his neck, lowered his head to her throat. It was all the answer he needed.
His teeth bit down, holding her in place. He rolled his hips. Just under the surface, she felt his jaguar lurking. It lunged. Tried as hard as it could to be free. Magic curled into the night, tamed his beast with a soothing whisper and a promise of things to come. When Trent found her hands, their fingers locked together, connected them. He gasped, grunting against her neck, and his pace sped up. Each thrust penetrated something deep in her soul. They kissed, pulled, and pushed, until she was sobbing his name into his shoulder. The breath against her neck became uneven, ragged. He thrust harder. Flesh slapped together. It was the only sound she could hear.
The numbing sensation started in the middle of her legs then spread outward. The faster he pounded into her, the closer the paralyzing feeling became. Her mouth open and gasping for breath, he brought her into rapture.
Before she’d even caught her breath, he rolled them. His hands moved to her waist, urged her to ride him. She pressed a hand against his chest and experimented with a simple up-down motion. When she tightened the muscles deep inside, his body tensed, jaw clenched.
Instinct took over. She threw back her head, looked up at the moon, and let the power wash over her. Slow at first, she rose then fell. Pleasure spiked. Her body gripped and pulsed around his cock. As the rhythm found her, each stroke was faster. Trent was there, moving his hips up and down with every thrust. The pressure mounted, made it hard to breathe. Sex. She’d been missing out. He pressed his fingers against the spot where they were joined. The stroking on her clit forced a cry from her; another climax approached.
They continued to move against one another, never ending, never stopping. Just feeling. Sweat trailed down her back. Trent struck. Hard and quick, his mouth pressed against the side of her neck and clamped down. His teeth pierced, bringing her to a new height of pleasure, and the satisfied purr of his beast consumed her. He was claiming her, completing the ritual that would bind them together.
He sat up, pulling her body tight against his, and took over. Just as hard and quick as he’d bitten her, his hips claimed her body in a different way. His hands pressed against her shoulders, forced her down on him until the pleasure was too much.
When she came, he was there, his mouth silencing her cries. He climaxed along with her, his body jerking, muscles twitching. They became motionless, a mass of sweat-slicked bodies clutching one another. She lifted her head from his shoulder, pushed his hair behind his ears, and smiled. The euphoria was making her feel like an idiot.
“Well.” She grinned. “It’s going to be damn hard to top that.”
Trent rolled his eyes. His fingers skimmed over her hips. In their wake, a trail of magic sparked her skin.
“Oh, I can do better. I’m still recovering. Just wait until I get you into a bed.”
She snuggled closer, brought her ear against his racing heart. Everything felt different. Each beat of his heart pulsed through her. That pounding beat would stay with her. She closed her eyes. Every move felt lazy, surreal.
“So,” Trent said, killing the peaceful moment she was enjoying. He didn’t speak again until she met his eyes. “Are you all witchy now?” His finger curved around her waist, gripped her ass in his palm, and pulled their lower halves together. They were sticky and wet, and she couldn’t have cared less. “Because if you aren’t, we can try again.”
A trail of moisture warmed her skin from where his lips moved over her arm and to her neck. Before, the magic inside came in sharp bursts. All or nothing. Now, it flowed through her in a steady, relaxing stream. When she thought about it, the stream rose, ready to flood outward. In her mind, she imagined Trent’s jaguar swimming through that water, basking in the warmth they generated. It was the only way she could describe it.
“I’m not sure. I think,” she said, reaching between them and sliding her hand over his cock, “we might need to do it again.”
Pushing her onto her back, he followed. “Babe, when I’m through with you, you won’t even be able to spell magic.”
He stiffened. Coughed. “Ah, we didn’t have an audience, did we?” He looked around, the panic in his eyes making her chest swell. “I didn’t even ask. Isn’t there some type of...ancient something that goes on?”
She was tempted to screw with him. “You think I’d have sex in front of my relatives? That’s something Brenda would do. Staying in the circle keeps everything else out. All damn day, things have been popping out at me.”
“Is that a Halloween thing, or are you just crazy?” He kissed her neck. She trembled.
“Crazy to be here with you,” she mumbled. “If we want privacy, we gotta stay here all night.”
“All night?” Somehow, he didn’t sound very upset about it.
When his cock pressed inside, her eyes fluttered shut. “You think you can entertain me?”
“I’m just getting warmed up.”
“I bet you are.” She grinned up at him. A strong feeling deep in her gut told her Trent would spend the rest of his life entertaining her.
“I lo
ve you,” he whispered. His eyes crinkled at the corners.
Her wink lifted the curve of his mouth. “Don’t get sappy on me now.” Then his lips smashed against her, and those were the last words she spoke until the sun rose hours later.
The End
Author Bio
Born and raised on the West Coast, AJ has enjoyed the beach for more years than she can remember. A wife, a mother, and an office manager, finding time to write is more challenging than creating the erotic tales she weaves.
Growing up on bad science fiction and popcorn, AJ has wanted to be a writer since she could remember. Also an avid reader, AJ fills what little spare time she has with paranormal romance books, movies, and visiting the beach where she is continually inspired.
