Witch Fire (22 page)

“You're evil,” she murmured, trying to maintain her grip on the light show in front of them. “But I don't really mind this particular lesson.”

“Mmm,” he purred as he dragged his hands up her abdomen. “Who said training couldn't be fun?” Her front-hooking bra came undone.

Jack cupped her breasts in his hands and rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. She moaned deep in her throat, keeping her gaze on the fire in front of them. The heat she felt from the flames was nothing like what came from Jack.

“You have gorgeous breasts, so sensitive and responsive. I love to touch them.” As he spoke, he traced every ridge and valley of each of her nipples, making Mira feel the effects of his touch much further south. “Sometimes you become so aroused when I play with them, I think you might come by that alone.”

“Uh.” Her voice came out breathy from her arousal. “You may be right about that.”

“Really? Let's see how excited you are.” He eased a hand down her stomach.

The magick slipped, and she nearly lost it all together.

“Let it go, Mira,” he murmured into her ear. “Training's over. Time to play.”

S
HE LET THE MAGICK COLLAPSE, EXTINGUISHING
the fire and revealing their reflection in the mirror they faced. He had one hand up her sweater, stroking her nipple. The other lay on her thigh, his fingers playing idly with the hem of her skirt.

He lifted a brow, catching her gaze in the mirror's reflection. “Hmmm. This has possibilities,” he whispered in her ear.

“I knew the mirror played some part in your nefarious plans,” she answered breathlessly. In the mirror's reflection, Mira could see how her pupils were dilated in arousal, making her eyes look dark. Her jaw was a little slack and her expression relaxed. She had the look of a woman already under the influence of Jack's powerful, sensual touch. Mira recognized this woman as the same one she'd seen that morning in Jack's corner mirror. It was an aspect of her personality only Jack had been able to coax forth.

“You caught me.” He looked like a predator, like he knew exactly what he was doing…and what he meant to do was make her climax right here on the ballroom floor.

She had no real objections to that.

Jack held her gaze in the mirror as he pushed his hand past the hem of her skirt and dragged his fingertips upward over her skin. He stopped where her inner thigh met her sex and brushed back and forth over that sensitive place until her breath caught. Then he moved to the damp panel of material covering her sex and caressed her clit through it, stroking over the aroused bundle of nerves.

Pleasure warmed her between her thighs and spread out. She made a small noise in the back of her throat as she felt herself find that now familiar place on the edge of an orgasm.

“Let's take your panties off,” he murmured into her ear. He grasped the edge of the small lacy undergarment and pulled. Silk tore.

Mira gasped in surprise. “Those were a perfectly fine pair of—”

“I'll buy you new ones.” He held up the small blue bikini briefs. “Those were pretty insubstantial anyway.”

“If you want me to wear granny panties, I'm sure I can find some.”

He tossed her panties to the side and gripped the hem of her skirt, pulling it upward until she could see her mons. “Mira, less talking,” he purred into her ear, “more moaning.” He covered her sex with his hand. “Now where were we? Oh, yes, you were going to watch while I make you come.”

Mira's mouth went dry.

Jack caressed her clit with one hand and eased his other hand up to cup her breast. Mira moved restlessly against him, feeling drugged and needy. He eased a finger up into her heat and it drew a moan from her. He added another, stretching her deliciously.

“You like to watch, don't you?” he murmured in her ear.

She found his gaze in the mirror's reflection and nodded.

He gave her a slow smile. “I noticed that this morning. Drop your gaze now, Mira. Watch what I'm doing to you.”

She did as he asked and watched his big hand working between her thighs, the muscles of his forearm flexing as he pushed her straight to a place where Mira's whole world was focused only on pleasure.

She wanted him badly. Wanted to feel him inside her, but Jack wasn't teasing her today, he clearly meant her to climax against his hand…and she was going to do just that.

She dug her heels into the carpet and arched her back. Jack worked his thick fingers in and out of her as he rolled her nipple back and forth with his other hand.

“Jack, I'm coming,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, feeling the beginnings of it skitter through her body.

“Eyes open,” he ordered gently. “Watch yourself.”

She opened her eyes and took in the whole decadent, exciting picture. Her gaze caught his and held steady. His eyes were dark, his expression serious.

“Hell. You're gorgeous, baby,” he murmured.

Mira came hard against his pistoning fingers. Her muscles clamped down and pulsed around them as pleasure slammed into her body. She held his gaze as long as she could, then she threw her head back and shuddered and moaned her way to heaven and back.

When the final ripples faded, she let herself sag in his arms. He smoothed her skirt down and kissed her tenderly on her temple. “I wanted you to see how beautiful you are when you come.”

Mira forced herself to form a response. She raised an eyebrow. “Well, at least I'm obtaining what I set out to get from you.”

A low chuckle rumbled through him. “I'll give you all the hot sex you want, woman.”

She turned over and pushed him back onto the carpet. “That's good, because there's something I've wanted to do for a while now, and you keep stopping me.”

“What's that?”

She only gave him a mischievous smile and kissed him, first on his lips, then down his chest, pushing up his beige sweater to put her lips on his flesh. When she reached his jeans, she ran her tongue over the top of the waistband and looked up at him with a sultry expression on her face.

He dropped his head back and groaned.

Then came the soft noise of a button being undone, the sound of a zipper coming down…and his gorgeous cock came free and stood at attention. She ran her fingers down it, smoothing the glistening pre-come over the crown.

Jack shivered, and Mira smiled.

“I want you at the mercy of my lips,” she murmured, “and my mouth. I want to feel your body totally vulnerable to the mere lick of my tongue…until you give me everything you have to give.”

“You're going to drive me insane.”

“I don't want to drive you insane. I just want to make you come.”

She caressed him a little while longer with her fingers, feeling every groan, every shudder, every tightening muscle as if through her own body. Mira licked the smooth head, let the tip of her tongue dance around the sides of his shaft, and lowered her lips around his cock.

His fingers twined through her hair as she worked him in and out of her mouth. Once in a while, he gently thrust so the head of his cock touched her tonsils.

When he finally came he pushed deep into her mouth and groaned. He tasted warm and musky against her tongue, down her throat. Mira closed her eyes, enjoying the knowledge that she'd made this man, who loved to be in control, completely lose it to the caress of her lips.

Jack lay for a moment, breathing hard, and then pulled her up his body, sinking his fingers into the hair at her nape. “Damn,” he groaned before he rolled her beneath him and kissed her deeply.

She'd never known how good sex could be—this sweet give-and-take of breath, emotion, and body. No shame. No shyness. Just pleasure. No matter what happened between her and Jack in the end, he'd given her that.

They spent the rest of the day together, and that night she went to his room instead of her own.

In the evening she called Annie and tried to cajole her godmother into coming to the Coven. Annie flatly refused, saying she had a store to run and a life to lead. After she hung up, Mira stared at the phone in the living room, a ball of roiling emotion in her stomach.

Jack walked into the room and held his hand out to her. She let him pull her from a sitting position into his arms. He tipped her chin up and kissed her softly, not needing words to comfort her.

She followed him into the bedroom where they undressed each other and curled up naked under the covers, taking pleasure in the feel of their skin touching and their mingling body heat.

Jack guided her face to his and, without a word, kissed her. His lips slipped over hers, soft and slow, as though he savored the taste of her. She made a little noise in the back of her throat and kissed him in return. His tongue feathered against her mouth and she opened to him.

When he dropped his kisses to encompass her throat and her breasts, she let him. When he planed her inner thigh with his broad hand, she spread her legs for him. Patiently, with his skillful touch, he readied her.

When she was slick and swollen, he slid inside her. He rode her slow, then even slower. He held her gaze steadily with his own, breaking it only once in a while to kiss her or murmur into her ear. It was intimate and arousing and made emotions swell within her and tears sheen her eyes.

He made her feel protected and even, almost, loved and cherished.

She climaxed with her legs twined around his hips and his cock thrust way up inside her. Her orgasm triggered his, and they stifled each other's cries with their mouths and tongues.

When they slept, it was in a perspiration-drenched, satisfied tangle of intertwined bodies.

Mira couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so deeply.

A
NNIE BUSTLED INTO HER KITCHEN AND SET HER
bag of groceries down on the kitchen counter. This early in the morning it was colder than a witch's tit outside. She'd always loved that expression.

She shrugged out of her winter coat and busied herself unpacking the bags. Today was an eventful day at the store because of a couple of craft classes she was hosting, so she'd done her shopping early. Thank heavens for grocery stores that were open twenty-four hours.

After everything was put away, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at her small kitchen table. Early morning light filtered in through the window above the sink. From her seat, she gazed past the light green curtains, trying to think of everything she had to do that day, but ending up only thinking about Mira's phone call the night before.

Her goddaughter had sounded so worried about her. Annie felt guilty for not rushing to the Coven for shelter just for Mira's sake, but she felt a need to stand her ground. The Duskoff always sent everyone running for the hills, and she was sick of it. If the bastards wanted her, they could damn well try to take her. She wasn't unfamiliar with how to use magick in a fight.

Annie's gaze shifted. On the shelf over the sink, next to a small pot of miniature roses she'd managed to keep alive indoors all winter, was a high school graduation picture of Mira.

Her goddaughter had always been beautiful and talented in so many ways. She was very empathic, a side effect of being a witch, and would've made a great psychologist if she'd finished school. Annie had been against her marriage to Ben from the start. She'd sensed he was no good for Mira. Annie had let her concerns be known, but she hadn't pushed Mira too hard on the subject. It was Mira's life. Mira's choice.

But even Annie hadn't suspected Ben would turn out to be the schmuck he was. He'd betrayed Mira badly, just as her own godmother had.

Annie closed her eyes, feeling the bitter taste of remorse well up. She keenly regretted deciding to honor Mira's parents' wishes. If she'd told the Coven about her, Mira would've grown up with the training she needed, and she never would've found herself hunted the way she was now.

Her parents had simply wanted her to have a normal life as a non-magickal person. They'd known the dangers facing a powerful air witch, as Mira had been fated to become from conception. They'd meant well and so had Annie, but that saying about good intentions paving the way to hell was true.

She wondered how Mira fared at the Coven now. They hadn't talked for long on the phone the night before. Annie trusted Jack McAllister to keep Mira safe from physical harm, but how was she doing mentally, emotionally? Besides the night before, she'd only talked to Mira once since she'd reached the Coven, and Mira had seemed distant on the phone, confused and overwhelmed by the fact that she had family she'd never known about.

Family that Annie had kept secret from her.

Did Mira hate her now? She had a right to, Annie supposed. She hoped Mira knew she loved her like a daughter. A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away.

Outside on the street were the two bodyguards the Coven had sent to watch over her. She was forever bringing the men hot meals and tea, but they always declined her offers to come into her home or the store. Thomas Monahan had also sent top-rated wardweavers to create powerful wards around her home and business. They worried about her because of her connection to Mira.

But Annie only worried about Mira.

One day, when this was all over, she'd try to make amends for keeping things from her. She only hoped that Mira would forgive her.

Her heart heavy, as it had been for weeks now, Annie got up, put her coffee cup in the sink, grabbed her purse and coat, and headed out her back door to begin her day.

Her heels did not slip on the perfectly clear walkway she managed with her magick. Tall hedges grew on either side of her yard, concealing what she did from non-magickal eyes. Snow removal was easy for her, being comprised of water. She heated it up until it melted, or simply moved it to either side of the walkway.

She reached the alley and her car. The green sedan with the two witches was parked a little further down. She waved at them as usual, but they didn't wave back. Annie frowned, lowering her hand and sensing something amiss. She narrowed her eyes—she had a bit of astigmatism—to get a better view.

The witches were slumped over in their seats. They looked incapacitated at the least, dead at worst.