Page 38 of Wedded Witch
His eyes lock onto mine, a silent plea for understanding and consent before he gives me a soft, tender kiss on the forehead. A shiver rolls through me.
Forehead kisses have always been my weakness. Nothing makes a girl feel more cherished than a forehead kiss.
But being cherished isn’t what I want or need right now.
He moves downwards, tracing kisses across my neck, my chest, and lower still. Each one sends a jolt of electric pleasure through me as if I’m being touched by every part of him all at once. His vetiver scent envelops me and cocoons me in safety, allowing me to relax and give myself over to the moment.
My fingers reach out to touch him, to guide him where I want him to be. His skin is warm and smooth under my touch, making me yearn for more of his touch everywhere. He responds to my urgings with a soft growl that makes me even more eager for what comes next.
“I want to see you too,” I pant.
He grins, a mixture of mischief and desire in his eyes. “Anything you wish, Clover,” he promises.
“Clover?” That’s new. I raise a brow at him as I try to hide my smile.
“It’s lucky.”
He knows my name means magic charm? I guess it’s better than ‘violet eyes’ or ‘vi’.
Then slowly, tantalisingly, he begins to remove his own clothing and I’m completely distracted. I can’t tear my eyes away, entranced by the sight of his toned body being revealed to me.
He’s a Greek god, a dream come true.
As his clothing hits the floor, my eyes linger on the evidence of his desire for me, standing erect and proud. My mouth waters. He’s long and thick, with veins pulsing along the length, the head pink, domed and glistening with a wetness that makes me long to taste him.
My heart races as I realise what we’re about to do, what we’re about to share. This is no longer just a kiss in the hallway; this is a connection of two souls, bound together by a chemistry that cannot be denied.
This could break the curse.
I push that thought aside. If having sex broke curses, my family would have been freed centuries ago. Besides, this moment isn’t about that. It’s about me, doing something for me, taking what I want for once.
Reaching out to touch him, I admire the warmth and weight and hardness of his perfect cock in my hand. He groans softly at my touch and I smile at the power I hold over him. It’s intoxicating, knowing that I have the ability to bring pleasure to another person in this way.
I could bring him to his knees with just a touch.
I lean in closer to him, our bodies almost touching. The heat radiating off of him is almost palpable; it’s as if we’re both on fire, burning with desire for each other.
He positions himself over me, our eyes locked together in a silent communication that speaks louder than words ever could.
“Can I taste you?” I ask, gazing up at him through my lashes. He swallows and nods, seemingly lost for words. “How do you want me?”
He tips his head back and groans.
“On your knees.”
A jolt of anticipation shoots through me, and I quickly obey his command. Maybe I got a thrill from thinking I could unman him, but following orders has my core clenching.
As I kneel, I marvel at the sight before me, and inhale the scent of him, a mixture of musk and that vetiver that sends my senses into overdrive.
His hands steady me as he stands before me. “Are you sure?” he asks, concern creeping into his voice. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I want to,” I reply, my voice stronger than I feel. “I want to taste you.”
I don’t care if I’ve never done this before. Not all virgins are shy, timid, blushing, trembling waifs, who need a man to guide and teach them. I may never have had sex before but I know what I want.
I think I even know what I’ll like. And sucking dick is definitely going to be one of those things.
Thank god for smut, so I know what to do.