Page 21 of Spellbound & Speechless (Witches of Starbrook #2)

Aspen

I wait up for him all night—not to continue what we started, but… because I’m protective of him, too. I don’t realize until it’s too late. He’s running in fear, and there’s something to protect him from now. Is it me? Did he run away because of me?

That’s easier than the alternative. I can’t exactly fight the moon.

Self-care is the only thing that can calm me down now. It usually is. I lounge on my bed and rub lotion on my legs. It almost feels like any other night.

But it’s not. Midnight has passed, and the round moon is high in the sky.

He’s fine. Mac is tough, and… he has to be all right. He’s the one who protects us. His wolf is out there, doing wolf things, as wolves should. I’m happy for him. He probably loves having so much space to run around, and?—

Finally, the door swings open.

Goddess. No one should look this good after being out in the woods all evening. His hair is a wild mess, that’s true, but his gaze is intense, and…

Where did his shirt go?

I tilt my head to the side. I have seen him shirtless before, just once, but this is the first time I’ve realized how chiseled he is. His abdomen, his brawny arms… Mac is truly a being of brute force.

The pulse in my core awakens. I ignore it and rub lotion on my thighs. “Nice of you to come home.”

He shuts the door with a click. “I had to get out.”

His breaths are harsh, like he’s been running around. He probably has.

“Why?” I murmur. “Is your wolf giving you a lot of trouble tonight? I can ask Rowan if there’s something wrong with the moon. It may be an eclipse?—”

“No. It’s not the moon. It’s you .” He collapses onto the cot and groans, draping an arm over his face. “You’re driving me insane.”

My lips part. I’m shocked into silence for several moments. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t! You keep claiming I know things, but you’re just… you’re being daft. I’m not a mind reader, Mac.”

He moves his arm and glares. “You don’t need to be a mind reader to feel what I feel. Stop pretending.”

What is he saying? There’s no way Mac, after weeks of pushing me away, feels anything for me.

I struggle to keep my voice even when I speak. “And what, exactly, do you feel?”

He rubs his eyes, pushing the palms of his hands in. It’s as if he wants me to disappear. Why can he talk about feeling something for me and still behave like this ?

“I know what you’re doing,” he says. “You’re trying to pry it from me, to make me open up, but it won’t work.”

“I’m not .” I put my lotion aside and stand. “I don’t have some grand plan. Of course, I want you to open up, but I know I can’t force you to.”

“What about the reading?” He drops his hand from his face. Behind those crystal eyes, he’s fuming.

I falter. “Excuse me?”

“The tarot reading you were getting was about someone else. Is he out of the picture already?”

What tarot reading? Who is the someone else? After a moment of silence, my lips flapping open and closed, I realize what he’s referring to.

Laurel’s reading.

“Mac!” A laugh falls past my lips. “That reading was about you, you—you—fool!”

The fool card coming out for our future makes too much sense.

Now and then, the cards are literal, and Mac and I are certainly a pair of fools.

It’s hard to say which of us is the most foolish, all things considered.

Am I the fool for wanting him, or is he the fool for pushing me away when he also wants me?

“Me?” He inhales sharply. “That was for me?”

The fight in me disappeared as fast as it came. I nod, my shoulders slumping, embarrassment hitting me at once. Doing a tarot reading about someone is one thing, but telling them about it is mortifying.

“Why?” He sits up and fixes me with a serious look. “Why would it be about me?”

“Because…” There’s another thing I shouldn’t admit, but it’s too late. “I had a dream about you. Dreams are important to witches, and I wanted to know what it meant.”

He lifts a brow. “And…? What happened in this dream of yours?”

“It’s none of your business. You should forget you heard anything.” I’ve already said too much .

“Fine,” he grunts. “Don’t tell me.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Just… go to sleep.” His voice is strained. “Please, Aspen.”

Perhaps I should put him out of his misery, but you know what? Mac gets away with too much. I’ve had enough.

“No. I need to know what is wrong with you. I’ve seen wolves around the full moon, and they never act like this . This is different.” My voice goes soft at the end.

His glare only turns harsher. “You want to know what’s wrong with me?” He’s on his feet before I know it, moving with supernatural speed.

I nearly fall back. His hands on my elbows keep me in place, and the harsh touch reminds me of what he is. A werewolf. He’s fast, with a primal power I can’t deny. I wouldn’t want to. The power has kept me safe since I arrived at Starbrook.

“You,” he growls. “ You are what’s wrong with me. Sharing a room with you is driving me up the wall. Tonight is especially… it’s fucking…”

“Difficult?” I supply. “Trying?”

His chest puffs with each breath. “Yes. Both. Hard , Aspen. It’s hard. I thought I would devour you. Eat you whole. My wolf is ravenous.”

“Is it the full moon?” I soften in an instant. “Do you need a potion? I can ask Juniper.”

His hands are still on my arms, holding me in place. It’s impossible to tell if he’s keeping me close or stopping me from moving closer.

“No. I already took my potion. It’s you . Your scent.” His thumb brushes against my arm. It’s an innocent touch, but it feels tantalizing. “Your soft skin.” His hands fall away, and he steps back, shaking his head. “Fuck. I just need to sleep it off, alright?”

Letting him go a few feet from me is like ripping my heart from my chest and throwing it across the room. He sits down on the cot and leaves me alone with a spinning head and a beating heart.

Mac speaks as if I have him under some spell, but he doesn’t consider the spell he has me under. It’s time to break it—or perhaps what I want to do will only strengthen it, but I don’t care.

I’m not as quick as he is, but I straddle him on his bed.

Mac doesn’t move away or push me off. His head leans back, eyes rolling up. “Aspen…” He groans.

His hard bulge pushes against my heat, applying pressure to my needy, throbbing core. My pulse pounds loud in my ears, and he can definitely hear it.

“What?” I whisper. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

“I can’t say that.”

“Then be quiet and kiss me.” I graze my fingers against the side of his face. Somewhere in his eyes, he’s tortured, and I only want to help.

Why won’t he let me help him the way he helps me?

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he murmurs. “I’ll hurt you.”

I lift a brow. “I think I do. You won’t be my first time, if that’s what you mean to suggest.”

His eyes narrow. “Don’t. Don’t tell me about that.”

“Why not?” I lean in, my lashes fluttering. “Are you envious? I didn’t take you for the jealous type.”

His fingers weave into my hair, keeping my face close. The grasp is nearly painful, and I relish it, pressing my chest against his. The only thing I’m wearing is a robe; it slips off to the side, letting my bare cunt rub against his bulge .

“I’m not the jealous type,” he says. “Not usually. This is exactly what I mean. You’re doing something to me.”

“I’m not.”

It’s not the first time a man has accused me of putting him under a love spell. Typical. They don’t know how love magic works, not at all.

My magic can’t create love. It can heal it, reinforce it, or even help end it when needed—but what he feels for me is all his. I can’t take ownership of it, and I won’t, even if my craving for him is an equal match.

His expression softens, and he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Oh yes, you are.” He finally touches me, his free hand digging into my hips as he pushes me down, grinding me against his cock. “Don’t you feel that? How fucking hard you make me?”

A whine slips past my lips without permission, and I nod, my lids fluttering. His face is closer now, inches away, but he won’t be the one to break the wall between us.

I’ll do it again. I’ll do it as often as I need if it means I get to be close to him. My lips clash with his, hard, all at once, pressing against his mouth with need. A rumbling growl emits from his chest, and I know it’s not only the man who wants me…

It’s the wolf.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he says again.

It doesn’t seem like he cares anymore. He flips me onto my back, and I gasp as me hovers over me and attacks, his lips latching onto my neck. His teeth graze against the sensitive skin before he bites down, drawing out a squeal.

My legs spread, leaving my heat on display for him. He pulls my robe tie, and my breasts spill out, greeted by the cool air of the room. His radiating warmth is enough to keep me toasty.

“Tell me to stop,” he says against my skin. “Please. Tell me, and I’ll end this.”

“No.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care if you hurt me.” I arch beneath him, my body begging for another touch. “Break me. Bruise me. I’m not fragile. I’m here, and I need to be fucked—to be used. Use me, Mac.”

“Aspen…” He growls, rutting against my heat. “I can smell your arousal. Do you know how sweet you smell?”

He pulls away to look at me, his eyes flashing red.

I smile, and there’s a tinge of evil behind it. “I bet I taste even sweeter.”