Page 29 of Her Mated Shifter

Ivy slides her fingers across mine, lightly holding them in a way that is utterly forgiving of all that I am not, and the wretched creature I am. “Calvin, you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone but you. If you’re unsatisfied with the man you are, then it sounds like you know how to do better. Not for me, but for you.”

I stare into her eyes, noticing the flecks of lightness in the gray. I wonder if this is what it’s like to be hypnotized, and if I would mind one bit if that is what she was doing to me in my vulnerable moment. “You shouldn’t know me well enough to be able to say the perfect thing,” I scold her.

A soft smile finds her lips, and seconds after, my mouth descends on hers. There is precious little I want that is not wrapped up in her eyes.

Any worry that my honesty might have worked against us finding each other in the lamplight vanishes when her kiss is far firmer than I was expecting. She should be hesitant around me, a known killer and old man at heart. But when her fingers tangle in my short black hair so she can deepen the kiss, I realize that honesty is like an aphrodisiac to this strange woman.

“I want you,” she whispers, no doubt trying not to wake Leo from his orgasm-induced slumber. “Could we forget about who we were before tonight and just be who we are now?”

Elation hits my soul, liberating me from my self-loathing so my tongue can tangle with hers. “That is everything I want. Let’s start by getting this slip off you.” I say it as if she has a choice in the matter, but my hands are already reaching for the hem. All it takes is one fluid tug and the garment is over her head and on the floor, leaving her unclothed before me.

Whatever dance my imagination was doing when she was wearing the nightgown that hinted at her more devious parts is nothing to the real thing.

And just like that, I cannot recall any woman I have ever been with before this night.

Hundreds of faces, names and encounters are wiped away as if they were never there taking up residence. I should be able to remember things like that. I even skip a beat in our kiss because the thought is so troubling.

But in the next breath, my vision fills with only Ivy Moon. Plump breasts that look like they would perfectly overflow in my hand, nipples pointed right at me, and a thin strip of tangles between her legs that leave me utterly transfixed.

Everything else falls away until there is only her. All that matters is this moment, and I am going to seize it as if this is the only one I will ever get.

My lips crash into hers in a manner that suggests I have never been a gentleman, nor do I have a sense of reason or time management. I should be toying with her, spreading her on my bed and driving her wild with tiny kisses where she wants weighted ministrations. But I am a teenager tonight—something I’ve forgotten the impulsiveness of, and certainly the joy.

There is no satisfaction of domination tonight. There is only a frantic surrender to this unassuming witch who has me completely under her spell. Toying with Leo had been fun, but now that I am the object of her lust, no part of me has a cohesive plan.

I need to be inside her. My member throbs painfully, begging to go someplace warm and wet. A drop of precum leaks from the tip, smearing on her thigh while I plunder her mouth with my tongue.

A wiser man would slow down and savor, but I am the king of fools tonight. I am not sure I have ever wanted a woman as badly as I crave Ivy Moon.

My hands caress and then cup her backside, lifting her just enough so she wraps her legs around my waist. This little nymph clings to me as if I am worthy of being her buoy in the storm.

So I do my best to be the man trustworthy enough to deserve such praise.

She kisses like she was born solely for this purpose, which I know can’t be true. My head swirls with the sensation. I am under her spell and happy to be here. She never asked for control, yet I willingly hand it over as if I’ve never needed to be the one on top.

My length rises to kiss her apex, and all pretense of sweet sex leaves me. I growl like a demon as I sit on the bedside, my head swimming. Any shred of reason that would warn me against being this vulnerable with a witch leaves me completely.

We’re long past that by now.

“I need to be inside you,” I beg, wishing I could sound sexy instead of like a man on the edge of his sanity.

She keeps her voice to a whisper beside my ear. “Lay back and let me explore.”

An uncouth whimper escapes me as her feet touch down on the floor before me.

Ivy’s dainty hand barely brushes my shoulder and I’m reclining onto the bed beside the sleeping shifter. My fingers itch to caress her, to get her centered on my cock, but she makes it clear with a look that she will give me what I want when she pleases.

I breathe through my teeth when she climbs atop the bed like a prowling lion, sizing up my length with intrigue before she settles between my legs to give it a gratuitously long lick.

Screw the shifter’s need for sleep. I cry out at a volume that breaks our hushed entanglement, announcing to the room that this woman owns me completely.

Then her tongue laves over the tip. Now forever burned in my memory will be a string of my precum stretching two inches from the head of my cock to the tip of her tongue as she laps at me like a lollipop.

“Devil woman!” I cry out, sitting up to grab at her.

But the second I reach for her, strong arms intercept me, slamming me back to the mattress and holding me down. The shifter isn’t asleep anymore. He’s got a vindictive gleam in his eyes as he pins me with a single arm. “Payback’s a bitch.” Then over his shoulder, he coos. “Take your time, love.”

And that’s exactly what she does.