The COMPLETE Witching Pen Series, Boxed Set (25 page)

She nodded her agreement with a little whimper of acknowledgement.

She was feminine – so, wonderfully feminine – he had to fight his dominant urge to just take her on the spot. No, she needed to be worshipped.

However, she seemed to have other ideas. As soon as her knickers were off, she wrapped her legs around him pressing all that delicious heat right against his aching dick.

He tugged at her earlobe with his teeth. "You're devious, woman."

She grinned like a cat about the get the cream. "Tell me you don't like it."

He matched her grin with a wicked one of his own. Wrestling her thighs back to the desert floor, he held her down as he brought his fingers back to her scorching centre and slowly slipped them into her. Her breathing turned ragged, and he watched those enticing nipples harden once more.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?"

"Why don't you show me," she said, a hint of frustration laced in her tone.

He laughed. "I've always loved you angry – all that heat, just for me. I want to feel that heat on my tongue, Amy. I want to know if you taste as good as you smell." Without waiting for a reply, he made his way down to her thighs. He stopped there, nipping and licking against the soft flesh, the scent of her arousal nearly tipping him over the edge. He ran a tongue along her femoral vein and had to consciously stop himself from shifting as his panther's teeth tried to elongate.

Just do it,
it whispered.
It'll give her one hell of an orgasm. She'll feel it all along the length of the vein, all the way to her toes – you sucking her dry. She'll bring her legs up for you, quiver under your tongue…
 

Damn that cat. He fought it back down and instead, brought his mouth to that private place where her thighs met, and the three centuries of his existence completely disappeared from his mind. If anyone were to ask him any question about his life in this second, as the Devil was his witness, he would not be able to answer it. There was only this, the woman of his dreams – literally – melting and hardening simultaneously against his mouth, and
fuck it
, she did taste as good as her scent promised she would.

Her cries of building ecstasy were long and loud, and he worked on making them longer and louder, until she was tugging at his arm, trying to pull away…

"Please … I need you…"

This time her voice was nothing but vulnerable desperation, and he couldn't deny her, even if he wanted to. He climbed up her body, found her lips with his own, guided himself to her entrance, and was fully inside her in one stroke.

God, the noises she was making … the
noises
… nothing had ever sounded so good. She was meeting his every thrust, digging her nails into his backside, urging him deeper, and he was obliging – getting lost in her …
you're already lost
, whispered a voice in his head.

He glanced at her, not wanting to miss how she looked when she came, and for a moment, he was shocked into stillness. Her head was thrown back, and her
teeth had elongated.
What the hell? Was this because of his blood? Or was this her own shifting abilities? But all his questions were thrown to one side, because it was his panther that responded the loudest. His own canines grew, causing his gums to ache. Primal feelings of pride and possession filled his chest.

"No! Don't stop, God, please…" She was frantically moving against him, trying to reach her climax, or, as he now knew, something more…

Although the conscientious half of him knew he shouldn't, there was not one damn thing he could do about it – his shifter half was in charge. Having been denied its existence for so long, there was no way in hell he could hold it back now that his cat was convinced it had found its mate. With an inhuman growl, he plunged into her again, bringing her legs up higher so he could go deeper. And deeper…

"Oh,
yes … take me,
" she moaned.

Oh fuck.

He did. He pounded into her, shifting them both inches along the dune with every thrust.

She gasped out loud and at the same time, her insides tightened around his cock, which had pretty much taken on a life of its own. Maybe that's where his brain had gone.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head to one side, exposing the seductive curve of her neck, and that vein he craved.

"I need…" she whispered.

"I know what you need," he said, gruffly, and he bared his own neck for her, but before she could reach him, he pulled away and pinned her arms above her head. "Look at me, Amy."

Her slitted, cat-eyes found his, her growing need evident within them, and it was now, looking into them, that he could see it was not his blood that had brought out this change in her – this was
her own
cat. Her own shapeshifter seeking to mate with his. The thought made him reel, and for once his panther and he were in agreement.
She's ours.
 

"You're mine. Do you understand?"

She let out a little whimper of want, even as her eyes flashed in silent anger. But this was non-negotiable. If this was what she wanted, she needed to surrender herself to him.

"Say it," he demanded, as he nipped at her throat, still thrusting high into her, into where he knew she must be aching for release.

He felt her climax approaching the way he could feel the onset of an earthquake, but she wouldn't be able to find completion without his blood, and he was sure a part of her knew it.

"Say it!"

The sweet cry of submission left her throat, and riding on it, the words,
"I'm yours!"
 

Thank God. He wasn't sure he could have held out any longer. His chest rumbled with pride and want. He exposed his neck to her.

She didn't hesitate for a second, but sank her teeth into it with one ripping action, exactly half a second before he buried his teeth in her flesh.

Sweet Jesus!

Time slowed down, and for a moment this was no longer a dream. They had both risen above the dream – manifested their own personal, joined reality out of thin air.

The universe seemed to morph and shrink until everything on it, including them, was balanced on a pinhead. Pueblo's focus zeroed in on Amy's blood alone –
so powerful
– and all that existed was DNA. Hers and his. Genetic strands merged, bonded, exploded together in an orgasmic union, sparking a new creation into existence.

He never knew a single second could be expanded into something timeless and so archaic. It shook him to his core – there were no words for it.

He glanced at Amy. Peace, love, total contentment, shone in her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. He smiled back at her, and then the moment was slipping out from under them, and they fell off the pinhead, back into the dream and the 'real' reality that awaited them.

Chapter Six

Amy had heard that when you're about to die, your life flashes before your eyes, so her first thought when her memories came flooding back into her system, was that she was about to die. But what a way to die. The word 'orgasm' did not even encompass a fraction of what she'd just felt. She was on Cloud Nine, if such a place did exist.

The invasion of her memories was the first sign that something wasn't altogether right. She remembered the easy stuff first: Elena opening the portal; Etienne cutting her wrist; then she understood the lie that she'd been living this past week… But what really cut her deep, were the memories that came afterwards – the memories from her childhood that had been forgotten for over twenty years. They choked her. Or was it him choking her?

Him?

"Off!" She pushed against his chest.

"Amy, it's all right."

"Off!"

"Hey…"

"What the fuck is wrong with your hearing? I said, get
off!
"

He scrambled off her, but she wasn't really paying attention – there was too much, just too much…

Was he off her yet? Yes, he was, but … what was this weight on her chest?

Her mother … she remembered her mother.

"Oh, God…"
Where those tears on her cheeks?

"What? Amy, what's wrong?"

She tried to respond, but there were no words, and the weight on her chest was getting unbearable. A wretched sob escaped her, and it eased the weight a little. She hurt, damn it; her heart
hurt.
 

She saw herself running into the woods. Her mother had told her not to go into the woods, and now she remembered why. Someone had been stalking them. Her mother must have known it, but had never told Amy, presumably so as not to scare her. Amy hadn't known then, but now that she remembered, her adult mind was able to put all the pieces together.

She'd always felt so free, just running…

She glanced back over her shoulder. Mummy was still sleeping on the sun lounger. She wouldn't be long, she promised herself. Just long enough to feel the happy way she felt when she ran. With a giggle, she turned and carried on, darting this way and that. Birds sang as she ran. She wished she could be up in the trees with them – she wished she had wings. And maybe one day she would have wings, because Mummy said Amy was a Shape Changer too, but she'd have to wait until she was older to be able to do it.

Amy slowed down, a little out of breath now that she'd reached the lake. This was her little game – she liked to run to the lake, smile at her reflection in it, and secretly look to see if she could spot water fairies. She never could. Then she would turn and sprint back to the clearing, forcing herself past her lack of breath and aching calf muscles, relishing in the challenge.

She fell to her knees now, as she sought out her reflection, and froze. A man was standing behind her. She could see him in the water, but the water rippled as a newt came up to the surface and she couldn't make out his face. Survival instincts finally kicked in, and she opened her mouth to scream, only to find a hand clamped down over it.

"Amy," said the voice. "I'm sorry; but I'm not going to hurt you. I'll never hurt you."

Was he thinking that would make her stop screaming? No way! She made to bite down on his hand, but he seemed to predict her feistiness and the next thing she knew, he'd managed to seal a damp cloth that smelled funny over her nose and mouth. She had no choice but to breathe it in and everything got fuzzy.

She screamed for her mother in her mind; wept for how she would suffer when she discovered her only daughter had been taken.

Her vision was fading.

No!

But she couldn't fight it, and the last thing she heard was his voice in her ear. "Ssssh. Don't worry. You won't miss her, Amy. I'll make sure you don't hurt… You'll forget all about her soon."

"Amy!"

Someone had her roughly by the arms.

"It's me, Amy, look at me."

The past warred with the present, and Amy felt five years old again, lost, afraid…

I'll be damned if he's getting me this time!

She kicked out with a foot and caught something soft, which had her assailant swearing blue murder. Then she turned and ran … and stopped … where the hell was she? Where were the woods?

A low growl sounded from behind her. "Christ, woman! You do that again, there'll be no more phenomenal orgasms for weeks."

No more
what?!

She turned and looked at the man staring her down with yellow, slitted eyes, and another memory entered her mind, of those same eyes coming at her from out of the shadows of her bedroom. Her fear diminished, replaced only by a mild sense of annoyance. "Pueblo?"

He paused, and looked surprised for a moment, then irritated again, as he rubbed his … OH MY GOD … naked crotch! And she was naked too.

Her annoyance turned to anger. "Why am I always naked when I see you?"

"You're not always naked, you're just naked now … and once before. Are you remembering stuff?"

She paused, trying to gather all the loose strands of her memory.

"Do you remember what we just did? Please
tell me you remember what we just did."

She briefly toyed with the idea of lying and saying no, just to see the look on his face, but she'd had enough of having her brain played with – it wouldn't be too sporting to do the same to him. "Yes, I remember, and don't you think for
one minute
that just because you had me on my back screaming I was 'yours'," she waved four fingers in quotation marks in front of his face, "that it gives you any kind of ownership over me, because it doesn't."

He looked annoyed, then relieved, then he laughed. "Yeah, whatever, baby."

"Don't call me baby. Do I look like I wear nappies?"

He raised an eyebrow as he looked down her body.

"Oh, forget it," she snapped, as she placed her hands and arms over her bits. "Where are my clothes?"

He looked around, then walked a few metres and bent down. When he approached her again, he had her dress in his hands as well as his jeans.

She looked at him in genuine surprise. "Are those the jeans I magicked for you?"

"Yes." His dark eyes twinkled as he stepped into them.

Damn, he was sexy.

She gave her head a shake and pulled on her dress.
Practical things, Amy, think of practical things…
"So, how do we get out of here?"

His face grew sombre, and his eyes shone with regret.

Uh-oh. That didn't seem promising.

"Amy," he said softly. "This is a dream."

The full scale of what he'd just said floated around above her head for a bit, before it hit her with full force. She then remembered holding Paul by the lapels of his pyjamas as she'd burnt up from the inside out, before falling unconscious. It was now that she realised she had tried to shift – into fire. Etienne had kept her shifting abilities a secret from her all this time. It was only due to the memories she'd regained that she understood what she was, based on what her mother had told her and her mother's own abilities. Having never once trained as a shifter, Amy had no control over that side of her at all … yet. Had she accidentally killed Paul?