“Is that too much?” I ask.
She shakes her head, but the furrow remains. “No. Don’t stop.” She lifts one leg and uses her foot to stroke my cock through my trousers, making me moan. “If I’m going to takethis, I have to make it through a little pain.”
I don’t want to cause her pain, yet the idea of pushing inside her, sheathing my cock in her tight, wet pussy, makes me harden and throb. Lyra must like the idea too, because her pussy gets a bit wetter, and it yields just a fraction to the pressure I’m putting on it. Instead of trying to force my fingers inside, I lavish more attention on her swollen clit,rubbing it with my thumb, teasing it until she’s panting and trying to push her hips up against me. I rub a little more.
And then my three fingers slip all the way inside her.
She gasps. It’s a tight fit, but they fit nonetheless.
“Fuck,” she groans as I start to move them, pumping in and out slowly. Her cheeks are flushed red, her eyes pinched closed.
I admire her freckles, her pale skin, the curve of her lips and column of her throat. She’s exquisite, and I almost laugh when I think of our first day together, the anger that danced in her eyes and pulled those perfect lips into a firm pout.
So feisty, my little fire witch.
My witch?I blink at the thought.
Is that what she is? Is that what I want her to be?Mine?
My head may not want to accept the implication, but my heart and body do so willingly, and I find my fingers working her a bit faster.
“More,” she whispers.
I don’t think she can take more. Her pussy is already so tight around my fingers.
“I don’t think—”
“More, Cairn. I have to be ready for you.” A little shimmer of red and orange dances across her skin—her fire magic?—but she doesn’t seem to notice; her eyes don’t even open.
I still resist. This is already enough. I don’t want to hurt her.
“We should go slow,” I say, “so we don’t—”
Now her eyes open, and they’re alight with flames. Lyra pushes up onto her elbows, knees and legs still spread beforeme. She reaches down between us, where my fingers are still knuckle-deep inside her, and she uncurls my pinky. It’s my smallest finger—it won’t add much by way of girth—but when she lines it up with her pussy and makes me push it inside, another furrow forms in her brow, and she flinches at the stretch.
I should stop.
“Don’tstop,” she says.
My eyes narrow. “Can you read minds too?”
“No.” She settles herself back onto the rug, breathing hard. “I just know you.”
Those words make my chest warm in a way I didn’t expect. It’s been years since I was intimate with anyone, and longer still since I felt seen,known. But this witch can pull words right out of my mouth, can anticipate what I will say or do before I can do it.
She knows me. Shewantsto know me.
That realization alone almost makes me cum, even without her so much as touching me.
But it scares me too. Because what if she changes her mind? What if—
Lyra’s pussy tightens around my fingers, squeezing me as her low back arches off the soft rug. Her moans stop, her breath hitching. Beneath my thumb, her clit is swollen and hot.
Then she cums, hard. Her pussy spasms and clenches, her clit throbs, and I can’t resist the urge to capture her mouth with mine. As our lips move together, she reaches up to wrap her arms around my neck, her fingers playing through my hair as mine still work inside her.
She presses her tongue into my mouth, making me moan.
Goddess, this witch . . .
