A Touch of Magick (13 page)

Her violet-blue eyes darkened to the color of a midnight sky as she stared up at him. Damn, she was tiny next to him, his large frame dwarfing her. She brought all kinds of emotions bubbling to the surface in him. He wanted to take back the words he’d just spoken. He wanted to protect her and cherish her. He wanted to hold her close in the night and wake up with her tucked beside him in the morning. He wanted to love her slow and long and he wanted to fuck her until she screamed in pleasure, her nails clawing at his back.

He was a volatile mass of seething emotions. He shoved the softer emotions away and focused on the most prominent need—the need to claim her physically. It was barbaric and primal, but it was also true. He wanted to mark her as his and let every other man who came in contact with her know she was taken. And clearly, he was losing his grip.

The contradiction existed. He’d think about it later. Tomorrow. But right now all that mattered was Rhiannon and whether or not she’d invite him to her bed.

“Rhiannon?” Her name felt right on his lips, and he knew that despite their size difference she would fit him perfectly. She’d been made for him. He tamped down his lust, focusing on the tiny woman who held such power over him.

She tilted her chin upward, her gaze steady. “I want you too.”

Chapter Eight

Rhiannon could barely breathe. Dinner had been a strained affair, but nothing had prepared her for Ryland’s raw declaration of need. She’d been unable to do anything but respond in kind. She wanted him too. She was very afraid she wanted much more from him than simply a physical relationship. But Ryland only wanted sex.

She nibbled on her bottom lip as uncertainty filled her. This was what she’d wanted, what she’d decided she needed, wasn’t it? This was what the entire candle spell had been about—hot sex with no strings attached. If she felt more than that, it was her problem, not his.

She worried about Ryland’s motivation, what was driving him. Was it nothing more than the attraction of a man to a woman or was it more magickal in nature? If she had captured him in her spell, then she was just as caught as he was. Never had she wanted a man the way she wanted him.

Ignoring all the warning bells going off in her head, she stood and stared down at her hand. He held it gently, his large, broad fingers wrapped around hers. Turning, she led him out of the kitchen and down the hall to her bedroom. The light in the room was dim, the only illumination coming from the kitchen. Still, it was more than enough for her to see her way.

Her bedroom was fairly plain and simple. The large four-poster bed dominated the small space. Gauzy white curtains hung around it, while a green comforter covered it. An antique maple nightstand, a matching dresser and a built-in shelf made up the rest of the furniture in the room.

She stopped just inside the door and Ryland slid his arms around her body, one hand resting on her stomach, the other slowly traveling up her torso until it rested between her breasts. Her heart was pounding and her nipples were puckered tight and straining against her bra.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered the words in her ear as he kissed the side of her neck. His words moved her deeply. His kiss sent tingles down her spine. She tilted her head to one side to give him better access. He rumbled his approval and moved lower nipping at the base of her neck where it met her shoulder.

He was so much larger than she was, so strong. With his arms around her, she felt wrapped in that strength, as though he stood between her and the rest of the world. Protecting her. Cherishing her.

But that was an illusion. He was here for the sex. He’d made it very clear he didn’t want any kind of emotional attachment. She had to remember that if she didn’t want to find herself with a broken heart.

“Ryland?” She wasn’t sure what she wanted to ask him, what she needed to say. Maybe she just needed to say his name aloud.

“Shhh.” His tongue traced the shell of her ear, tugging gently at the trio of small silver rings at the lobe. Her toes curled in her sneakers as she felt the caress deep in her core. Cream slid from her body, dampening her panties and the crotch of her jeans.

His hand shifted and he cupped one of her breasts, stroking her distended nipple with his thumb. Even through the fabric of her sweater and bra, she felt his touch as if it were on her bare skin. If she weren’t so turned on, she’d have been embarrassed by how easily he’d aroused her to such a fevered peak. She pressed forward, pushing her breast more firmly into his palm. There was no doubt about the pull of sexual attraction between them. It was magnetic.

He groaned and his fingers tightened around her. “You’re so tiny everywhere else, but not here.” His hand slid down her torso and dipped beneath the waistband of her sweater. She felt the heat of his palm against her stomach.

She expected him to touch her breasts again, but instead his hand shifted downward. His nimble fingers flicked open the button on her jeans and then pulled the tab of her zipper downward. The hissing sound seemed unusually loud to Rhiannon as her jeans parted and his hand slid deeper.

She sucked in a ragged breath when his fingers grazed over her stomach. The pads of his fingers were rough and stimulated the nerve endings just beneath her skin. She loved the feel of his hands on her body. Wanted to feel them everywhere. They were so strong, yet he was so gentle.

He cupped the silky material of her panties. She could feel the heat of his palm against her sex. “You’re already wet.” He sounded awed and pleased.

“Yes.” She pushed back against him, wanting to get closer. His hard, thick shaft pressed against the small of her back. “And you’re already hard.” A shiver of pleasure washed through her at the thought that she did this to him. It was only fair considering how hot and bothered he got her.

He gave a strained laugh. “Honey, I’ve been hard most of the day.”

“Really?” She would never have thought him the type to be ruled by his hormones. He was the type of man who valued having control of his body and mind. She’d bet her store on that.

“Yes, really.” His fingers slid over the slick material, brushing her swollen clitoris with each pass. “And it made for a very uncomfortable day at work.”

She frowned. “I thought you didn’t have to work today.” That’s what he’d said last night at dinner.

He continued to tease her with his fingers, never quite exerting quite as much pressure as she wanted. “Someone called in sick, so I went in to cover his shift. Like I said, it wasn’t a comfortable day. I would have much preferred to be at home.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the aggravation in his voice. It made her feel powerful and womanly to have had that effect on him. “Poor baby,” she teased.

“Witch,” he murmured, and she froze. But he was having none of it. He slid his free hand beneath her sweater up to cup her breast, while the hand buried between her thighs continued its slow, torturous caress. Rhiannon could barely breathe, let alone think.

“There’s so much heat in you, so much passion.” Ryland ground his pelvis against her back. “I can feel it building inside you, just waiting to explode.”

Her pulse was pounding, her hips undulating, reaching for every touch of his fingers. She was still fully dressed and he was bringing her to orgasm with his gentle stroking and his words.

“Come for me, baby,” he encouraged. “I want to feel you come apart in my arms. Then I’m going to strip you naked and do it all again. I want to hear you scream my name when you come.”

Reaching around, she gripped his sides with her hands, needing something to anchor her in the midst of this sensual storm. She moaned when his fingers carefully pinched her nipple through the silky material of her bra, sending a blaze of heat directly to her core. He was going to get his wish sooner than he’d hoped. She was about ready to scream. She was so close.

“And you know what I’m going to do then?” His hand traced along the edge of her panties, but didn’t dip beneath the band to touch her slick, heated folds.

She was panting hard now, barely able to breathe. Suspended on a wire of desire, ready to plunge off with just the tiniest of pushes. “What?” she gasped.

“Then I’m going to squeeze into your hot pussy and fuck you until we both scream.”

“Oh, God,” she cried as he finally slid one finger under the edge of her panties and plunged it into her molten hot sex. Her inner muscles grabbed his finger tight as he stroked her nipple and used his teeth on her neck.

Rhiannon exploded. Throwing back her head, she cried out his name as her body convulsed. She would have fallen if it weren’t for Ryland’s strong arms wrapped around her keeping her safe. Never had she trusted a man so quickly or so completely. Rightly or wrongly, she gave herself into his keeping.

She felt his hands on her, stroking her, quieting her. Another spasm of release took her and she shivered. She whimpered when he withdrew his hands, feeling bereft without them. But he didn’t leave her feeling that way for long. He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her down on the comforter.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured next to her ear before pressing a soft kiss just behind it.

She closed her eyes, savoring her orgasm but feeling the loss of his presence in the room beside her. She was still fully dressed with only her jeans undone, but she’d just had the biggest orgasm of her life. She didn’t even want to think about what it would feel like to actually make love with Ryland. It might kill her. A smile played at the corners of her lips. What a way to go.

She could hear the sounds of Ryland out in the kitchen and then he was beside her again. She blinked against the flickering light of the candle he placed on the bedside table. “I turned off the lights in the kitchen and blew out the rest of the candles.” He picked up the holder she kept on her nightstand and lit the second candle off the one he’d brought from the kitchen.

It was a good thing one of them had thought of that. Her mind was mush.

“There.” He seemed satisfied with the light from the two candles and sat on the bed beside her. “How are you feeling?”

How was she feeling? Amazing. Stupendous. There weren’t words enough to say exactly how she was feeling. “Great.” She cleared her throat. “I feel great.” Now that was an insipid word to describe the state of her mind and body.

He smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled. His pale blue eyes appeared warmer and his face not as harsh as usual. “Great, huh? We’ll have to do better than that.”

“I’ll die if we do any better,” she muttered and then groaned and turned her head into her pillow. “Did I say that out loud?”

Ryland laughed, but thankfully didn’t comment as he reached for the waistband of her jeans and tugged them down. “Lift up.” She lifted her bottom and he slid her jeans off, taking her sneakers and socks off at the same time. He tossed the mass of clothing to the floor and reached for the hem of her sweater. “Okay?”

Was it okay? He’d called her a witch when he was touching her. That was twice now he’d used that term to describe her. He’d meant it in a teasing way, as a sensual term of endearment. She knew he didn’t believe her when she said she was a witch. She wasn’t quite sure what he thought. That it was a set of spiritual beliefs, a persona she’d created to help sell things at the store, or that she was a nutcase. Either way, it boiled down to the fact that he didn’t believe her.

Taunts from her childhood rose up to haunt her. Memories of past boyfriends turning away from her, being cruel as they broke up with her, saying she was just too weird.

She was usually a very confident woman. She owned and operated her own business, had her own home and had a great sense of style. At this moment, none of those things mattered.

All her insecurities tried to come flooding back. She shoved them aside. She wanted Ryland. No matter what happened tomorrow, she wanted him now, and for once in her life she was going to throw caution to the wind and not worry about the consequences. She’d told him what she was. It was on him if he didn’t believe her.

He was waiting patiently for her, all traces of humor gone from his face. He watched her from under a set of thick, dark lashes, his blue eyes as sharp as a laser beam.

Slowly, she sat up and raised her arms. Ryland got busy, helping her tug her sweater over her head. He whistled long and low as he uncovered her. “Matching bra and panties in red. I would never have guessed.”

She shrugged, not wanting him to know she’d worn it just for him, which was stupid. He’d have to know or at least suspect.

He trailed his finger over the edge of her bra, stroking the lace. His hand looked so dark and large next to her much paler skin, a vivid reminder of the physical differences between them. He was so masculine. And he made her feel feminine to her core.

“Very pretty, but not nearly as beautiful as what’s beneath it.”

Rhiannon studied him in the candlelight. His blond hair shone, appearing almost a burnished gold in the candlelight. His eyes picked up the pearl-gray color of his shirt making them appear different, warmer. It was fascinating how his eyes seemed to shift color with his mood. One moment they were pale and intense, the next warm enough to make her skin sizzle. His shoulders were wide and she could just see a tuft of dark blond hair peeking out over the vee of his buttoned shirt.

She realized quite suddenly that she was half-naked and he was still fully dressed. “Take off your shirt.” She wanted to see every single hard inch of him. She’d certainly spent enough time last night and today wondering what he looked like beneath his clothing. Now it was time to find out.

The color in his eyes darkened as his fingers went to the top button, sliding it free. Lower and lower he went, tugging the material from his jeans. Sitting up, she slid her hands beneath his shirt and pushed it down his arms.

Oh my. He was even better than she’d imagined. And she had quite a vivid imagination. He was harder. His torso sculpted out of sinew, bone and muscle. His shoulders and chest were broad and muscular and his skin still held a tan from summer. Or maybe it was his natural coloring. She didn’t know. But she did need to touch him.