Sylvia Day - Spellbound

Shadows passed through his eyes. The air around them grew charged, became heavy and electrified. Power pulsed off him in waves, lapping against her senses like waves on a beach.

His lips thinned into a grim line. “I’m not liking how you’re bringing this discussion into playtime. You can’t lead me around by my dick, Victoria. But you can damn well piss me off by trying.”

She felt the sash of her robe slither around her wrists, binding them together behind her. Her breathing quickened until her chest was lifting and falling rapidly. Her pussy grew slick with wanting, her body preparing for the delicious invasion of his. When his hands gripped her hips, she shivered, her desire sharpened by the fine edge of fear. She knew he’d die before he ever hurt her, but his was a dark soul, his sexual hungers ferocious and insatiable, his need to dominate her an intrinsic part of their love affair.

In the time they’d been together, he’d taken her body in ways she could never have imagined, pushed her to her limits and beyond. He was a skilled lover, master of her desires and his own, his control unwavering.

With effortless strength, he lifted and positioned her, holding her aloft above the broad head of his cock. It notched into the clenching opening of her sex, then pushed in the few inches required for her knees to sink into the sofa cushions. She gasped at the teasing fullness, the taunting pressure spurring the anticipation of feeling his thick length sliding deep.

“Don’t move,” he warned darkly, forbidding her from sinking into his lap. “You’ll take my cock when I give it to you.”

Running his hand tenderly up her spine, Max cupped her nape and urged her to bend forward so he could take her mouth. Her eyes closed as their lips touched and the angle of his penetration pressed hard against her G-spot. She clenched around the plush head, hungry for the feel of it tunneling deeper and stretching her.

“Max,” she whimpered, desperate for friction.

“Milk my dick, kitten. Show me how much you want it.”

Victoria tightened down, rippling greedily, her aching sex trying to pull him inside her.

With a rough tug on her hips, Max obliged her, yanking her onto his raging erection with a force that drove a cry from her.

“Max!”

He groaned. His gorgeous face was flushed and taut, lines carved by the ecstasy of their joining. He ground his hips upward, screwing deep. “Hot, tight little fuck.”

With her wrists bound at her lower back and her canted position, she had no leverage. She could only give her weight over to Max and let him use her as he needed, let him hold her in place while he thrust into her.

The act of giving herself so completely to him, of surrendering her body without reservation, was profoundly arousing. She grew wetter by the moment, her pussy quivering along his plunging length in helpless delight. Erotic sounds filled the room—Max’s growls and her deep purrs, the slap of flesh meeting flesh, and the soft sucking of her creamy sex as he shafted her.

“Fuck me,” he ordered, his hands straightening her angle so that she was upright. Catching her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, he rolled and tugged as she rode his cock. The wicked pulling on her sensitive flesh echoed between her legs. He pinched her hard enough to make her cry out, then cupped her breasts in his palms, kneading them to soothe the sting. All the while her hips pounded into his, his cock bottoming out on every deep thrust.

His breath gusted across her skin as he whispered darkly, “You feel so good. So wet and tight. Your cunt is squeezing me like a fist. I’m seconds away from coming hard in you.”

“Yes,” she gasped, her sex spasming in expectation, sucking him greedily.

His arms banded like steel around her. With a feral growl, he climaxed, spurting with such violence she felt it. His magic hit her like a sledgehammer, invading in a deluge, the taint of black magic wrenching a scream from her throat.

Her Familiar power enhanced Max’s magic and cycled it back into him. He seized as it hit him, his breath hissing as his climax was spurred by the power rush, his cock swelling as he pumped her full of hot creamy semen.

Victoria trembled with the need to come, her pussy primed and so ready. But he hadn’t told her she could and her body hovered in anticipation of the command.

Pushing to his feet, Max turned and bore her to the couch, looming over her with his big, powerful body. His hips lunged, plunging his thick cock deep inside her. He fucked her roughly, his control barely maintained, his demand for her climax implicit in the way he took her. Gripping the sofa arm, he powered into her, driving her to orgasm with long, fluid thrusts.

“Come,” he growled. “Come now.”

Victoria’s back bowed as the pleasure speared through her, her sex tightening, then convulsing around him. She cried out, trembling, racked with love and longing and a desperate surge of magic. Power exploded from her, snuffing out the candles, then reigniting them with bright licks of flame. Max arched upward, his head thrown back with a virile snarl. He became the eye of the storm, his body the nexus of the magical tempest.

She clung to him as it ravaged him, the anchor he needed yet refused to reach for.

In the early hours of the morning, Max slipped from bed, careful not to wake Victoria, who slept deeply. She might not realize it yet, but he was draining her, his magic greedily tapping into hers. Such was the way of parasitic black magic. It was ravenous and soul destroying, turning warlocks and witches into junkies who cared for nothing as much as they did their next fix.

He pulled on his pants and tied the drawstring as he moved out into the living room. Over the next hour, he increased the wards around the loft, tightening security to protect his most valuable possession. He’d nearly lost Victoria in the battle against the Triumvirate and had nearly lost his mind in the process. He had crossed a line that night, using both white and black magic to lure her back from the Transcendual Realm. He’d changed then, been stained by that violation of a sacred law. The Council chose not to disavow him, because he was too valuable to Them as a warlock who would do whatever was necessary.

Once he’d secured their home, he moved into the bedroom. The woman who slept in his bed was stretched out like a cat, her arms above her head and her legs extended. Soft purrs rumbled in the air, filling him with a contentment he’d never known before her. The deep purple satin sheet was draped over her pale skin, covering her taut belly but leaving one breast and leg exposed.

He shouldn’t have come home to her after starting the hunt. He should’ve stayed away until it was over.

“Max.”

Managing a smile, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Victoria’s sleep-soft mouth. “Good morning.”

“Why are you out of bed?”

He nuzzled his nose against hers, then straightened. “Planning what to feed you for breakfast.”

“Umm . . . ” She smiled her catlike smile, a provocation his body responded to instantly.

“Would you like to shower before or after?” He enjoyed Victoria any way he could get her, but naked and wet was one of his favorites.

“I want to lie in bed with you all day.”

Max took a deep breath, wanting the same thing but knowing he couldn’t afford to lose an entire day. As long as Powell and Barnes were out there, Victoria was at risk. “Soon, kitten.”

Her gaze narrowed. “You’re starting the hunt?”

“No time like the present.” He headed to the kitchen, hoping to avoid a fight.

It was a fruitless exercise, he realized, when a sleek black cat raced by him and promptly sat on the threshold to the kitchen. Victoria couldn’t keep up with his long stride in her human form, but she had him beat in her feline one.

“Sweetheart,” he said sternly, moving to step over her and getting swiped at instead.

She shifted, appearing before him in all her naked glory.

His breath caught as it always did when he saw her bared. He’d never wanted any woman more.

With an impatient wave of his fingers, he covered her in a red silk robe, loving the way the color contrasted with her creamy skin and dark hair. “We’re not rehashing this.”

“At least tell me where you’re going and how long you’ll be gone.”

His brows rose. “That sounded like an order.”

“Maybe it was. You came after me, Max, when I tried to walk out of your life. You claimed me. If you didn’t want the hassle, you should’ve let the Council pair me with Gabriel, as They intended—”

Victoria! Magic surged out of him along with acidic jealousy. He couldn’t think of her with someone else, it made him furious. “You’re pushing me, kitten.”

“You’re pushing me aside!” she argued.

Recognizing the fear in her eyes, Max pulled her close and pressed his lips to her forehead. “They’re close,” he said softly. “Too close. I need to know you’re safe or I’ll give them an opening that wouldn’t be there otherwise.”

“I feel them, too,” she said, snuggling into him. “You’re strong, Max. The strongest warlock I’ve ever come across, but it’s two against one! At least with me, you can even the odds.”

“I can even the odds without risking you.”

“With black magic. That’s too dangerous!”

He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Like calls to like. I have to draw them in.”

“Which is why it’s even more important that I be with you!” Pulling back, she looked up at him, her emerald eyes pleading. “I can keep you grounded.”