Page 64 of Pirate Witch

I turn back, eyes wide. “I’d never…”

The gentle mirth in his expression cuts my panic short. “I know. You’re not Marcella.”

“Was that her name?”

Kier nods, biting his lip as if unsure of what to say. “I… wronged her greatly. I have paid for my cruelty and then some, but I’ll always regret what I did, and not only because of the misfortune it brought.”

“But it’s in the past now,” I press. “I chose you, Kier. I’m not going to change my mind and I—” I cut off, wondering if I should say it.What the heck, I’m all in now.“I want to be your mate. I want your marks beside Rysen’s and the twins’.”

His eyes, already dark, begin to smoulder with an intensity that makes me shiver. I get the sense my fae is walking a fine line between giving in and keeping control.

So, naturally, I do what any good Lunar would: I tilt my face back and claim his lips with my own.

Kier is frozen against me. A statue of living ice beneath my mouth. For an instant, I think it won’t work. He’s had hundreds of years to develop the kind of discipline I can never hope to match.

I start to pull back, heat dancing along my cheekbones.

But he doesn’t let me.

Kier’s arms are like steel bands around my waist, holding me in place as the ice prince melts.

His unmoving lips part on a groan before pressing more insistently against mine. He releases me, but only enough so that I can twist in his arms until my chest is flush against his. The chill of him, combined with the way his tongue sweeps out to tangle with mine, has my nipples hardening into sharp points until I swear he must be able to feel them through the thin fabric of our clothes.

I tear my mouth away, hating the need for air even as I gasp in a lungful of it.

“Do you know how fae form mating bonds?” he asks, and I gape at how unaffected he sounds.

Only his expression tells a completely different story. There’s naked hunger written in every line of him, and possessiveness in the way he watches my chest heave with my breaths.

I shake my head, unable to trust my voice.

“A blood exchange,” he says. “Normally during a complicated ceremony or ritual to the Goddess.”

I open my mouth to ask which Goddess—because I get the sense he’s not talking about the three worshipped in our realm—but I don’t want to bring up any more sad memories of his old home.

“You know, the best thing about worshipping the Moon?” I ask instead. “She considers all acts of pleasure sacred.”

His mouth quirks on a smile, catching my meaning immediately. “In which case, I’d say you’re overdressed for our mating ceremony.”

Like he can talk.

My hands go to his shoulders before tracing down the planes of his chest to tug at the hem of his shirt. “Off,” I order.

The sexy fae just smirks and leans back onto the cushions. “You first.”

When are these pirates going to learn that daring me to take my clothes off isn’t going to deter me? I stand and reach for the pin holding the straps of my dress behind my neck and unclasp it, allowing the strips of fabric to fall away from my breasts. A slight shimmy of my hips has the rest falling away.

He hisses out a breath as he realises I’m not wearing underwear.

“Bold witch,” he whispers, a hint of reverence in his tone. “Lie back on the cushions and spread those pretty thighs for me.”

“I’m beginning to think,” I begin, obliging him, “that you like to watch.”

My words earn me a wink. “Show me what you used to do in your room when you were alone, before you had six males to satisfy you.”

I snort, because, let’s be honest, no male wants to see that. Most women—Lunar or otherwise—can get themselves off in two minutes without removing any of their clothing if they’re in the right mood. No, what Kier wants is a show.

So that’s what I’m going to give him.