It called to him, a sweet heady beacon of femininity, fertility, and fuckability. His three favorite f-words.
Fresh, sweet honeysuckle. Ripe and rich and ready to be fucked–PLUCKED, he corrected himself, ready to be plucked.
You have a surprisingly logical mind, for a human. And a female. And a witch.
There has always been Darkness, just as there has always been Light. Neither can ever be completely destroyed, only driven away or contained, because neither can exist without the other. Without Darkness, there is no Light, and vice versa.
The wars not over, but this battle is. It’s time to pick up the pieces and move forward.
The Gould viewed female Wardens in the same light as demonic minions and the Ebola virus — such things might exist in the world, but virtue and good hygiene would probably be enough to keep them at bay.
Wynn picked up the note, unfolded it, and read aloud. “‘Call Wynnie-the-Pooh. Out of salt. Important. Dig on Coleman, Garvey/CG Towers, Uncle Griffin. Paris. Bank for box.
Wynn really hoped the squeal that followed her announcement came from Ella, because if Kees had made that sound, she feared for his testicles.
A Guardian lover is the last thing you need, Wynn Myfanwy, she told herself sternly. Too bad it was the very first thing she wanted.
He wanted to claim her, to possess her and be possessed, to sink into her soul until neither of them could tell their own being from the other.
She tilted her head to glare up at him. “There you go with the ‘little witch’ thing again. What did I tell you about that?” Knox grinned unrepentantly. “What can I say? You have bewitched me.
I do not doubt your intellectual or spiritual equality with me, mate. When I saw you belong to me, it is only because I belong so utterly to you, as well.
Why do you cry?””I almost lost you…””You cannot lose me, not when you are part of me…You cannot lose has become part of you.
So this gargoyle you’re looking for, she could imagine herself saying. It wouldn’t happen to have freaky magical powers, or the ability to devour human souls, would it?
Heat rose to her cheeks. The man made love to her one time, and already she couldn’t wait to touch him again. He should be labeled a controlled substance to keep potential addicts like her safe from his influence.
Didn’t anyone tell you that size doesn’t matter?””Yes, but I told him to put his pants back on and go home.
So I’m not allowed to take responsibility for the whole world, but you are, huh?Kees felt the corners of his mouth twitch and his heart squeeze and then melt. …I am bigger, he growled.And she laughed.
Ella squeezed, wringing a groan from his throat that echoed the torments of the damned. Usually, though, the damned didn’t lean into the torment in a silent entreaty for more. Or so she assumed. She didn’t think hell was likely to be kinky.
Still shuddering, he collapsed atop her on a long, strangled groan. It sounded as if someone had just wrung out his soul.Ella knew precisely how he felt.
Only in porn did people appear to need sex as badly as she needed it right that minute.
She could sense the desire pouring off the man in front of her, and to be wanted so obviously, so fiercely, went to her head like moonshine. He made her feel like a goddess.Provided goddesses got this horny.
She stretched beneath him, bare and aching, held captive by an entirely new form of magic, one she’d thought existed only in books and movies.