She pouts. “Thanks, I even tried to learn football rules too, so I kinda know what is going on. Tomorrow you have a game, right?”
“I do,” I say, placing her on the bike, kissing her before peppering more kisses down her neck and collarbone, then I crouch in front of her and kiss her stomach. She’s wearing her Schattenblüte belt, but it’s not activated, and she’s wearing a pleated skirt…
I slide my hands up her thighs, my fingers brushing her butterfly tattoos as they slide under her skirt.
“Twenty-Seven,” I murmur.
“Hmm?” she asks, her cheeks burning.
“You have twenty-seven butterflies on your body,” I answer as I begin placing light, feathery kisses along her inner thighs.
“Jayce…” she breathes, voice shaky, laced with hesitation. “What if someone-”
I glance up at her, following her gaze to the open garage door, with the cool light shining through it. I look back at her, giving her a dangerous smirk. “Then I’d better make you come fast,” I whisper in a low husky voice.
Her cheeks flush, but her legs part wider, silently begging for more. Her fingers twist tightly in my hair as I move closer, eyes locked on the way her pussy is shaped against her panties that are already slick with her heat. I slide the fabric aside, just enough to reveal her smooth, bare pussy, and lick my lips.
I pause, letting the image burn into my memory before lifting one of her legs over my shoulder.
Then I go down on her. The moment my tongue touches her, she moans hornily, a delicious sound that only makes me want to do more. That sound always wrecks me.
Her intoxicating taste explodes on my tongue, sweet and sinful. So fucking addictive. I lick deeper, slower, dragging the flat of my tongue along her entrance before circling her clit with aching precision.
She arches with a gasp, her thighs trembling around my shoulders, her scent flooding my senses.
“Gods… yes,” she whimpers. “Right there…”
I don’t stop. I listen to every breath, every moan, adjusting until I find the spot that makes her lose control, and when I do, I stay there, pleasuring her unrelentingly. Her hands grip the bike behind her for balance, head tilted back, shirt clinging to her breasts, nipples stiff and visible through the thin fabric.
She’s a fucking goddess.
I slide one finger into her, slow and deep. She clenches around me instantly, her body tight, and so fucking wet. My mouth never leaves her clit, my tongue working in sync with my hand as I push her closer, closer to the edge, feeling her getting tighter, growing closer to the brink of release. Her moans grow louder and breathier, and with us no longer remembering that we are out here, I shatter her.
Her orgasm rips through her like a storm. She cries out, the sound loud, erotic and full of satisfaction. It echoes off the garage walls. Her thighs squeeze my head, her juices coating my fingers as I ride the wave with her, not stopping until every last tremor leaves her body.
When I finally draw back, I lick her off my finger, savouring her taste with satisfaction.
“Fucking beautiful,” I murmur, staring up at her, my own cock hard in my pants.
She’s panting, chest heaving, hair wild, with glassy eyes that burn with lust. Then she grabs my shirt, yanks me up, and kisses me hard. She tastes herself on my tongue and moans against my mouth as she deepens the kiss, her hands running over my body.
I smirk against her lips.
She’s everything, and she’s fucking mine.
I like the reminder, and every time we kiss or fuck, it consumes us entirely.
She is mine, and I am hers.
I glance downthe hall, waiting for the senior witches to come out of class. It’s the last lesson of the day, but I’m unable to shake off Sienna’s early birthday gift, and whatever is going on, I decided to come find Heaven.
What she had said, I couldn’t confirm whether it was the truth or a lie. That has never happened.
I spot Heaven walking out of the class with a group of other witches, all of whom are older than me, but apparently, she’s been moved up due to the level she’s at. She’s holding a grimoire, her head tilted up slightly. I guess that the saying you come across in books, ‘she had her nose in the air,’ is real.
She spots me and arches both eyebrows. I motion to her with my head, and she glances at the other witches before she comes to me.
“Yes?” she asks.
