Page 18 of Witch's Moon
Chapter 7
Regan had often been the aggressor in sex, but now she lay quiescent beneath him. His tongue pushed into her mouth, stroking against her own, filling her with the hot, spicy taste of him. She sighed against his mouth.
After a minute, he backed off slightly, and his gaze wandered over her.
“You’re beautiful,” he said. His hand drifted down to skim lightly over her body, to graze over the peaks of her breasts now taut and almost painfully engorged. Then lower, his fingers lingering over the mark above her right hip.
“What’s this?” he asked. “I noticed it when I was looking after you. Is it a tattoo?”
She raised her head slightly, so she could peer down the length of her body. His fingers traced the outline of the coal-black mark, which showed stark against her pale skin.
“It’s a birthmark,” she said. More like a brand of ownership. All the daughters of the Morrigan bore the mark, a crow with outstretched wings, but she had no wish to go into that right now.
“Pretty,” he murmured, then let his hand drift lower.
She watched as his fingers ruffled the dark red curls at the base of her belly. She held herself tense as they slid between her open thighs. Her breaths were coming faster now, and she gasped as he parted her sex and pushed inside her.
The sensation was incredible, and her legs tightened around his hand.
“Relax,” he muttered.
For a moment, she remained tense, then his finger flexed inside her and a spasm of pure pleasure shot though her body. She wanted this. She let her head fall back to the soft earth, her eyes drifted closed, and she gave herself over to the exquisite sensations.
∞∞∞
Caleb slowly withdrew from the hot, wet heat of her. She’d gone boneless against him, but he could hear her shallow breaths. He slid his fingers over her sex, found the swollen nub at her core, and stroked slow lazy circles around it until her hips rose and pushed against him. When he knew she was ready, he ran the pad of his thumb over the sensitive spot. She went rigid against him, every muscle clenched as her back arched, and her sex pulsated against his hand.
He glided his palm over her belly and cupped her full breast, soothing her. His cock was hard, had been from the moment he woke with her wrapped in his arms, now it ached with the need to be inside her. He came up over her, kneeling between her open thighs. Her eyes opened, huge, languid, containing no hint of denial as her hand moved between them. She cupped his balls, and pleasure shot up his spine. She shifted her grip, caressed his shaft, then held it at the entrance to her body.
He hadn’t meant to do this, but holding himself poised above her, it felt inevitable; as though it was meant to happen from the time he’d laid eyes upon her in the forest all those days ago.
Mine.The word whispered through his mind.
He ignored it.
It didn’t have to mean anything. It wouldn’t mean anything. He wouldn’t let it. All the same, he had to have her this one time.
When he sank into her, it felt like coming home. He held himself still, closed his eyes, and fought against the feeling of rightness. This was just sex. Nothing more. Just an affirmation of life, a natural continuation of what they had shared together in the forest.
Unlike the rest of the pack, Caleb had always been able to shift at will, and while he experienced the pull of the full moon—it did not rule him. He rarely allowed his wolf to run and always alone, but last night he had given in to the need. He had run with Regan’s wolf, and it had felt so good.
Now her muscles contracted around him, his head went back, and he fought for control. He stared down into those strange, inhuman eyes and started to move inside her. She was so tight that each thrust was an exquisite drag of pleasure. He took her slowly at first, withdrawing only to push back in, reveling in the way her hips rose up to meet him. When he saw she could take him, he increased the pace until he was slamming into her. Her legs came around his waist, her hands gripped his shoulders, and he rode her hard.
She came apart beneath him, and he released the last of his control. He came seconds later in an explosion of pleasure more intense than anything he’d ever experienced. Throwing back his head, he roared.
Mine.
Again, the word echoed through his mind, and he knew he was in trouble. Deep trouble, and he needed to get out of there before he got in even deeper. He had an idea that Regan had the power to bury him so far down he would never climb out, and that was something he would never allow.
He pulled out of her and rolled onto his back, ignoring the sense of loss that washed over him.
∞∞∞
In the aftermath of their lovemaking, Regan lay relaxed in both body and mind for the first time in what seemed like forever. She rolled her head to the side to watch Caleb. His eyes were closed, but he opened them as though he could feel her gaze upon him.
“What?” he asked when he saw her watching him.
Regan wasn’t used to thanking people; it didn’t come naturally, but without him, last night could have been a total disaster. She knew her wolf now, and she would have torn herself apart if she’d remained locked in that cellar. Regan likely owed Caleb her life. Why was it so hard to put into words?
