Page 47

K ian

McColl is on her hands and knees before me, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders as I grip her hips and move inside her. I plow into her tight heat. This angle allows me to go deeper, and every thrust draws soft gasps from her lips that make my blood sing.

Gods, yes!

“You feel incredible,” I growl, watching the way her body moves with each thrust. My hips hit her rear with every hard movement. Her breasts sway and jerk beneath her. The sight of her like this, so open and responsive, nearly undoes me completely.

Her inner walls grip me like a velvet fist, squeezing and releasing in a rhythm that has my eyes rolling back in my head. The sounds she makes, the way her body seems to have been made specifically for me.

“Kian!” she gasps, pushing back against me. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” Her hands fist the blanket.

As if I could. As if anything in this realm or any other could make me pull away from her now.

I lean forward, my chest against her back, one hand sliding around to find the sensitive bundle of nerves at her center. The moment my fingers make contact, she cries out, her whole body shuddering.

“That’s it, love,” I murmur against her ear. “Let me feel you come apart.”

She cries out as her muscles tighten around me as her release builds, and I can feel my own climbing higher with each stroke. When she finally crests, screaming my name as her body convulses around me, I follow her over the edge with a roar that seems to shake the very walls.

Magic erupts from where our bodies are joined, flowing from her into me like liquid lightning.

Every nerve ending in my body fires at once, the sensation so intense it’s almost painful in its perfection.

The orgasm doesn’t just center between my legs; it radiates through every inch of me, from the tips of my fingers to the soles of my feet.

I’ve never felt anything like it. It amplifies every sensation, making me feel more alive than I’ve ever been. It’s as if McColl’s very essence pours into me, filling spaces in my soul I didn’t even know were empty.

We collapse together onto the bed, both of us shaking and gasping for breath. I pull her against me immediately, pressing my face into her hair as we both come down from the incredible high.

“By the gods,” I breathe out when I can finally speak. “Every time with you…it’s…it’s…” Like we were made for each other, but I don’t dare say it.

“I know,” she whispers, her voice just as shaky as mine. “I feel it too.”

We lie there in the aftermath, our breathing slowly returning to normal, my arms wrapped around her as if I could keep her here forever through sheer force of will. The magical connection still hums between us, a constant reminder of what we’ve shared. Of what we have.

Her stomach rumbles, and we both laugh.

“Are you hungry, by any chance?”

“Supper time has come and gone.” She chuckles, her voice throaty from her groans and cries.

“You’re right.” I look at the window, and it is dark. Where has the time gone? “Don’t move,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Don’t you dare move so much as an inch. I’m going to get us some food, and then you’re staying right here in this bed with me for the rest of the night.”

I feel her tense slightly at my words, and I wonder if she’s thinking about slipping away again like she did last night. The thought of waking up alone again makes something clench painfully in my chest.

“Please, McColl,” I say softly, turning her in my arms so I can see her face. “It’s one night. Let me have this one thing. Stay with me. Please.”

Her hazel eyes search mine for a long moment, then she relaxes, melting back against me.

“I’d like nothing better.” Her voice is tinged with sadness, which I hate but also love.

Relief floods through me. “Good. Don’t go anywhere. I will soon have you fed and under me again.”

She giggles. “Sounds good.”

I reluctantly pull away from her warmth and head to the kitchen, not bothering with clothes.

I throw together a simple meal of bread, smoked salmon, cheese of various kinds, and fruit.

When I return to the bedroom, she’s sitting up against the pillows, the sheet pulled up to cover her breasts.

Her hair is tousled, her lips still swollen from my kisses, and she’s never looked more beautiful.

I admire her for a moment. I can’t help it.

“What is it?” Her cheeks flush.

“Nothing at all. I hope you are hungry?” I lean on the bed, kissing her softly before handing her a plate.

Then I get back in bed and we start eating. I’m more ravenous than I thought. So is McColl, because she eats like it is her last meal.

“This is good,” she says around the food. “I forgot how much I loved smoked fish.”

“Sooooo good,” I agree, taking a big forkful of salmon. I groan.

“I know,” she says, doing the same.

When the worst of our hunger is sated, I ask, “What was that about with Lydia earlier? It looked like I interrupted something.” I pop a grape into my mouth.

McColl’s expression grows thoughtful. “You won’t believe it. She apologized.”

“Really?”

“Yes, for how she treated me growing up.” She takes a bite of cheese, chewing slowly.

“I had no idea about her childhood. Let’s just say that it wasn’t great.

I never knew. Never even once suspected, but she was jealous of what she saw as my perfect life.

How crazy. Here I was, thinking she had it together.

That she had everything and…turns out, she felt the same about me. ”

“Wow, that’s a lot.”

“It is. She went on to apologize for her treatment of me now, too. She said it all came flooding back when she saw me again. She was jealous of you. Isn’t that funny?” She laughs, but I can see it’s forced.

I study her face in the soft light. “No, she should be jealous. I’m a catch.”

She laughs, and it reaches her eyes this time. “You’re okay. Good in bed.” She bobs her eyebrows.

“There’s more to me than my shaft.”

“If you say so.” She laughs some more.

“Jokes aside, it’s a big deal. What Lydia admitted to is huge.”

“It is. To think that all those years, I thought she had everything I wanted, and she felt the same way about me.” She shakes her head. “We were both so focused on what the other had that we couldn’t see our own worth.”

“Only she lashed out, and you didn’t. If anything, you tried harder and achieved so much.”

“She’s achieved a lot, too,” she says. “The meeting with The Circle,” McColl changes the subject. “Did you get any…I don’t know…bad feelings about it? Or was it all smooth sailing? Not to take anything away from the achievement.”

“No, you’re right to question it.”

“I question everything where my mother is concerned.”

“If I’m honest, it almost went too well. Your mother was very accommodating.”

McColl’s expression grows troubled. “That’s what worries me. My mother is never accommodating unless there’s something in it for her. She always has an angle.”

“You think she’s planning something?”

“I don’t know,” McColl admits, pulling the sheet higher. “I never know with her. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. She does care about the coven, and this alliance would benefit everyone. It’s just…” She sighs.

I do know. The same thought had crossed my mind during the meeting. But I pushed it aside because we need allies, and the witches are one of our best options.

I reach over and take her hand, intertwining our fingers. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

The words slip out before I can stop them. They slip out because they feel right, just like she feels right. We belong together.

McColl’s eyes widen slightly. Together . Her eyes turn a little hazy, and her jaw tightens. She looks sad. She wants us. This. I know it.

A plan begins forming in my mind. It’s crazy, impossible, but suddenly, I can’t let it go.

I don’t want to leave her here. Why should I?

Why should we pretend that what we have doesn’t matter when it does?

I just gave a speech about different species coming together, about being stronger united than divided.

How can I walk away from the woman who’s become everything to me?

It doesn’t matter that we are different. There is nothing wrong with it. In fact, I think it makes us stronger. It makes us work so well.

I pull in a breath, intent on asking her to come with me, but then stop myself at the last second.

I can’t!

Not tonight. Not right now. I refuse to ruin this perfect moment. I have no idea how McColl will feel about it. She might feel obliged to stay. She might up and leave. I want what could end up being our last night. I need it. I will ask her in the morning. I’ll ask her when she wakes up in my arms.

There’s a part of me that's terrified she’ll say no. That she’ll choose the safety and familiarity of her home over the uncertain path I’m offering. But I have to try. I have to give us a chance. I hope she will, too.