Page 41 of Head Witch in Charge (The Sherwood Witches #2)

When I feel like I’m already on the edge of coming hard enough to make the rest of the world disappear?

No. It absolutely does not matter how he’s doing this.

I swear I’m about to tell him just that when he slides his fingers back inside me and steals my breath.

He curls his fingers, twisting and turning them at the same time so he hits every sensitive spot practically all at once and I lose the ability to say anything at all except yes , please , and more .

He takes advantage of the moment, giving me what I don’t even realize I need by using his actual hands to pull down my bra so my breasts spill out.

I have just enough time to clock what he’s doing when he starts rolling my hard nipples into impossible peaks before tugging them just right—all while he kisses his way down my neck.

It’s like having multiple Eriks at the same time tasting and teasing and treating me to an experience I’ve never even imagined.

And if this is what he can do to me with all my clothes still on in a self-driving car speeding down the highway, I can’t even imagine what he’s going to do the next time we’re naked and alone together.

Or not alone.

At this point, I’m so overwhelmed with pleasure that there’s not a whole lot the man could ask me that I wouldn’t agree to.

Maybe that’s what I’ve been waiting for my whole life—the man who I could be wild with, the one who saw I wasn’t perfect and wanted me anyway, the witch who made magic feel new.

“Take what you want,” Erik says before giving me a rough kiss that’s surely going to leave my mouth bruised in the best way.

And I do. I let go and reach for the orgasm, letting it build and build and build until I break apart from the pure pleasure of it, letting it wash over me in waves until I’m nearly drowning in it, clinging to Erik because in this moment—and I have to admit, maybe more—he’s become someone I can count on.

I’m too blissed out to do more than sigh like the fully sated woman I am when Bessie starts to vibrate so hard that it breaks through my post-orgasmic haze.

“Oh shit,” Erik says, his tone as tight as a dress that’s two sizes too small, before he moves me off him back to my side of the bench seat even as it’s flying forward into its original position. “Get down and no matter what, don’t look.”

Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.

My head is up and I’m staring at the highway straight ahead of us before he’s even done with the sentence. Up the road there’s the telltale shimmer of the Council’s enforcers.

I clutch The Liber Umbrarum tight enough that the metal buckles used to lock it bite into my palms like dull knives laced with acid. The same bitterness is eating away at my stomach lining because there’s twice as many of the goons appearing out of the shimmer as before.

Erik throws an arm out across my chest at the same time that he slams on the brakes. The stench of burnt rubber is thick in the air as the Council witches begin to materialize. He slams the car into reverse and punches the gas.

I whip around in my seat to help navigate and my stomach drops to my toes.

There’s a pack of motorcycle-riding werewolves in a V formation heading straight for us.

Even worse, they’re all wearing distinctive bloodred leather jackets, which gives them away as being a part of the Aetos family.

What the Sherwoods are to law-abiding Witchingdom in terms of power and prestige, the Aetos family is to the criminal underbelly of Witchingdom.

We.

Are.

Fucked.

“Erik,” I say, surprised my voice isn’t shaking as hard as my nerves right now. “We’ve got more company.”

He glances in the rearview and lets out a harsh breath. “Don’t suppose that book has something for this situation?”

I look down at the thick leather-bound book with its five inches of yellowed pages, each of which is covered in handwritten spells. There’s no index. No contents page.

“Probably, but it would take time to find it, and that’s the one thing we don’t have.”

He grunts in agreement as the Council comes at us from the front and the Aetos werewolves from the back. My mind is going a million miles trying to find a solution, but I just keep coming back to the realization that there’s no way for both of us to get out of here, but one of us can.

One of us.

A warm certainty settles in my belly and I know what I need to do.

There’s not a whole lot I can control—after all, my ultimate future was decided before I was even born—however, I do have a say in what happens in the now.

Erik is driving like he was born to do it, and Bessie is responding to his every turn of the wheel and tap on the pedals.

But they’re closing in on us. I have to do something.

As I put The Liber Umbrarum back in the glove box, I take what may be my last look at my husband and something shifts in my chest, like all the pieces that were off-kilter are finally falling into place because of Vegas, because of the last few days, because of him.

Erik really is the last man I ever wanted and the only one I ever needed.

I’d love to blame the wildness of the past few days, the night of no inhibitions at the satyrs’ inn, or even the sentient house’s insistence on just one bed, but I’m done lying to myself.

Fuck me. I love my husband.

There’s no way I’m going to let either the Council or Aetos werewolves fuck with my husband.

“I trust you to get The Liber Umbrarum to the secured facility,” I tell him, one hand on the door latch. “Whatever happens, you getting out of here safe is all that matters.”

Then, without giving myself time for second thoughts, I grab one of the picnic baskets full of goodies from the satyrs, whisper a quick protective spell, and shove the car door open.

“LeLe,” Erik yells. “No!”

It’s the last thing I hear before I tuck and roll out of the car and onto the highway.