Page 35 of Just a Little Wicked (Wicked Sisters #2)

Missy

Did you see the way he was looking at her?

Holly

Who?

Missy

Erikson, on the video call. The way he was looking at Winter. It was like he wanted to roll her in bubble wrap and fight off anyone who came near her.

W inter’s entire body tensed. He’d remembered the exact words she’d used to describe how Viking Erik had pleasured Irish Winter.

Erikson’s blue eyes practically singed her face as he catalogued her reaction to his proposal.

He towered over her, blocking out the gusting wind and emanating a dangerous sort of heat, one palm pressed to the bluff beside her head.

She was caged in, but could easily duck under his arm if she wanted.

Did she want to escape? Did she want to roll her eyes and shove him away from her? Or did she want him to unbutton her jeans, tug them down, and give her the night stars?

Oh, who was she kidding? Of course she wanted that talented mouth on her.

But wanting something and actually doing something were two entirely different things.

She’d already decided to pursue the affair, but now that the choice was before her, she hesitated.

If he kissed her between her thighs with even half the intensity that he’d kissed her outside the gym, it was possible she would fall apart.

Completely lose control. She would open herself to having a life-shattering experience only to have it ripped away in two days.

What if he—oh God—what if he ruined sex for her?

What if no other man could replicate how he made her feel?

Wouldn’t it be better and safer for both of them to ignore the chemistry?

Winter licked her bottom lip, and his gaze traced the movement while a muscle clenched in his jaw. His eyes glittered, and he looked at her feverishly, like a predator burning to eat her.

Screw it. Her life was basically over in two days anyway. Why was she still holding back?

“If I wasn’t what I am, I would go to Portland and I would try out for the symphony. For the violin,” she added, like an idiot. Because obviously she meant with the violin.

His brows lowered. “Why does being a Wicked mean you can’t go for your dream?”

She shrugged. “I’m needed at the apple farm.

My sisters and I reopened it together, and it would be kind of crappy of me to abandon them.

And now that the aunts think my powers might be growing, I’m grateful I didn’t leave.

What if I become so consumed with visions that I lose my sanity?

It’s better that I stay at Wicked Good Apples and far from auditoriums filled with human lives. ”

His eyes traced over her face, thoughts flitting behind them, but after a moment he seemed to come to a conclusion, because he let the questions dissolve as his lust took over.

His pupils expanded, and the expression that crossed his face was so carnal, so possessive, that her thighs clenched.

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss below her ear.

“Thank you for sharing,” he said, and licked a line down her neck.

Winter broke out in chills. “Now it’s time to uphold my end of the bargain. ”

“You don’t have?—”

“Stop right there. Unless you’ve changed your mind, the only thing I want to hear from your mouth are sounds of pleasure.”

“Bossy,” she whispered as he continued to kiss her neck, gently sucking the skin between his teeth, his hands still pressed against the bluff. But for the first time in her life, she didn’t mind someone else giving the orders.

One of his hands finally slid into her hair so that he could tilt her head, angling her for his mouth, which took hers in a teasing, sensuous kiss that stole her breath.

Erikson was as skilled at seducing her with patience as he was at ravaging her.

She kissed him back languidly, desperately trying not to notice how well their mouths fit, or how it felt like they’d fallen into a well-practiced tempo, each of them giving and taking in equal measure.

Winter’s eyes fluttered closed when he slowly dragged down the zipper of her jacket and slid his palm between the open panels, cupping her hip and tugging her pelvis forward until she was pressed snugly against his thick thigh.

That was when he seemed to lose patience with the slow approach, his kiss turning scorching and demanding, his tongue licking into her mouth and his teeth on her bottom lip as his fingers nimbly unbuttoned her jeans and dragged that zipper down, too.

He broke the kiss, pulling back, both of them breathing hard as he dropped his gaze to the sliver of panties exposed by the opened fly of her jeans.

“Fucking hell, Win,” he groaned. “Purple with tiny hearts? You’re a goddamned treasure.”

She didn’t know why his words warmed her, or why she had the sudden desire to buy thirty pairs of the most unexpected panties just so he could peel down her jeans and be surprised each time.

He returned to her neck, dragging his teeth across her sensitive skin as his hand dipped into her panties, lower, and lower, until his middle finger parted her.

He groaned against her skin and her head dropped back.

“You’re so wet. So perfect,” he growled, nipping at her jaw.

His expression was fierce as he began to explore her, and for once she didn’t even care about masking her vulnerability; she allowed her face to slacken with pleasure as Erikson Grimm began gently circling her clit with skill and reverence.

“I’ve been wanting to taste you from the moment I saw you.

Maybe it’s an echo of a memory, but I swear I already know how you’ll feel squirming and coming on my tongue. ”

“Oh my God. Erikson ,” she cried out as he sank two fingers into her.

His fingers were thick and perfect as he slowly pumped in and out of her, even as her panties and jeans limited his range of movement.

He shifted his technique to accommodate the restriction, curling his fingers in a way that was absolutely in a sex manual somewhere.

With his thumb pressed on her clitoris and his fingers doing things that should be illegal inside her, she was on the precipice so fast she was stunned. “I?—”

He pulled his hand out, and before she could sob in frustration, he yanked on her waistband and peeled her jeans all the way down to her ankles.

He dragged one of her boots off and shucked the pant leg, then, kneeling before her on the pebbly beach, he hitched her leg over his shoulder.

With his eyes on her face, he swiped his tongue over her, swirling and tasting, and then he French kissed her clitoris.

Winter had known Erikson would be the most skilled lover she’d ever had just from the expertise of his kisses and hands alone, but this—this was a whole other league of talent.

He held her thighs firm in his wide, calloused hands, his mouth and tongue hot and clever even as the cold air bit at her exposed skin.

The contrast of sensations only heightened the intensity of the moment as he lapped at her like she was made of ambrosia.

The obvious pleasure he took from doing it was more of an aphrodisiac than anything else.

She’d been on the receiving end of oral before, but never with someone who treated it like a pleasurable act rather than a chore.

His obvious enjoyment had her racing toward those stars at warp speed.

“Erikson, Erikson,” she chanted, her fingers tangling in his hair and her hips undulating. He grunted his approval, and she knew he was just possessive enough to love that she was blindly repeating his name as he rapidly brought her to her peak.

She was almost there when his fingertips circled her sensitive entrance and plunged in at the same time that he took her clitoris in his mouth and gently sucked.

Winter shattered, her vision going black and bursts of color exploding across the backs of her eyelids.

Her entire body tensed, her fingers and thighs squeezing around the man on his knees before her, pleasure spiraling through her and flooding her bloodstream.

Her orgasm lasted for eternity, and against the backdrop of her eyelids, she swore she saw the vaguest flash of this moment replayed in a different time and place, a ghost of a memory, an imprint of a past life, and then it was gone and she was going lax around his fingers even as he kept them firmly in place, kissing above her mound and licking trails over her skin.

She reflexively squeezed around him again and he groaned, his forehead falling to her belly.

Finally, reluctantly, he slid his fingers out, and seeing them glisten with her release set a primal alarm blaring in her head, warning her that she’d been right to be wary.

Two days with Erikson wouldn’t be enough, while being too much at the same time.

Winter was now confident that once she’d slept with him, things would never be the same for her again.

With his blue eyes trained on her face, he slid his fingers into his mouth and sucked. “You taste as incredible as I knew you would.”

Winter was speechless, but her body responded for her by clenching involuntarily.

Erikson helped her get her trembling leg back into her jeans, and then he re-tied the laces on her boot while she buttoned her pants. When she was fully dressed again, he stood and leaned in to kiss her deeply, softly. Preciously.

It was too much. Her heart was banging at its finely-wrought cage, and she felt lax and soft and off-kilter.

The man had just given her the best orgasm of her life, and he hadn’t even been inside her yet.

Well, parts of him had been. All she wanted was to give him the same pleasure he’d given her.

She wanted to look up at his tight expression as his fingers flexed in her hair and he pumped his length into her mouth.

“My turn,” she said, nudging him around so that his back was to the bluff.

He rubbed his thumb down her jaw. “This isn’t tit for tat. I wanted that as much as you did. Probably more.”

“And now I want this.” But as she reached for his waistband, his eyes fell on something over her shoulder and widened in shock. She followed the direction of his gaze to the water, and her heart plummeted. “What the hell?” She took off at a sprint.

Erikson was right behind her as she raced to the shoreline, where a dolphin lay on the pebbled shore, its sides heaving as it struggled with its own crushing weight.

“How did this happen?” she cried, approaching the beached animal with horror and more than a little fear for its life.

Would they be able to get it back into the water in time?

How much did dolphins weigh? It looked so big out of the water; it was as long as Erikson was tall, its white belly rising in the cold sun.

Erikson circled the dolphin, his lips pressed flat. “Look up who we should call, Win. I don’t think we’re supposed to move a beached dolphin on our own. I’m going to try to keep it wet.”

Winter frantically searched on her phone and found the number for the Marine Mammals of Maine, wishing that Holly was there to make it rain over the dolphin and keep it wet.

She hit the call button. While she gave information to the person on the other end of the line, she absently watched as Erikson shrugged off his jacket and then tugged his shirt over his head, the muscles of his broad back rippling with the motion and his skin pebbling with the icy wind.

She tried to stay focused on the phone call as he dipped his shirt in the water, soaking it through, and then brought it back to wring it over the dolphin.

His biceps flexed as he squeezed, his oblique muscles torquing as he splashed as much water on the animal as he could.

“Ma’am?”

“Sorry,” Winter muttered, tearing her gaze away from him. “What did you say?”

“We have a team on the way. If you can safely keep the dolphin wet, that would be a big help.”

Rescue arrived half an hour later—along with a news crew. As soon as Winter spotted the TV station number on the side of the van, she said quietly to Erikson, “It’s time to go.”

“Agreed.” He took her hand, his fingers cool from the water, and left the experts to save the dolphin.

They walked away without looking back, but Winter’s thoughts didn’t leave the hapless creature.

Was it a coincidence that the Atlantic white-sided dolphin, as the marine researchers had called it, had beached itself directly in front of them?

She didn’t think so, and when she’d seen the researchers’ astonishment at the rare occurrence, she’d been convinced that it was far from an instance of simple bad luck.

Somehow, she’d done it. She’d been responsible for the creature’s suffering.

While the truck vents warmed them and Erikson checked his phone for any missed calls, she said quietly, “Erikson?”

“Hmm?”

“I did that.”

“Did what?”

“I beached the dolphin.”

He set the phone down and gave her his full attention. His normally sparkling blue eyes were serious and thoughtful. She didn’t know what she’d do if he tried to convince her she wasn’t involved, so she was almost relieved when he said, “Yes, I think you did.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t.”

The gentle way he said it made her brain ping.

“The fire outside the gym this morning.” She hadn’t foreseen it because it wasn’t supposed to have happened. “I did that too.”

He hesitated, then nodded once.

“I’m a menace. I’m dangerous . I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m losing control of myself. I—wait, do you think I’m unknowingly manifesting excess power?”

“After what just happened? Yeah, I’m starting to think so.”

She moaned and dropped her head into her hands, but not before she caught him opening his mouth to speak and then closing it again, an expression of extreme reluctance on his face. She pounced on it. “What? What don’t you want to say? I can handle it, whatever it is.”

Was this where he called off their barely begun affair? Because she was so frightening? So out of control?

His expression cleared and he said, “Nothing. Let’s focus on one thing at a time. Right now, that’s meeting with Atlantes, and then getting home to your sisters. We’ll figure out everything else later.”

“How can I just walk around like I didn’t set fire to a building or hurt an innocent creature? What if I unknowingly, I don’t know, blow up a car ? Injure a human?”

“You won’t. You’ll stay in control.”

She snorted. Right, because she was doing such a spectacular job of that so far.

How had one of the most incredible moments of her life turned into this horror? Maybe she wasn’t meant to find happiness. Maybe this was the universe’s way of ensuring she stayed balanced, forever hovering on the precipice of living.