Page 28 of The Fang Arrangement (Celestial Witches #2)

S he tastes like sunshine bottled up.

Like flowers and all things good wrapped up in a delicious, beautiful fucking package. The precious gift of her blood explodes on my tongue as I hold her.

Her body is soft, feminine, and an obsession. I don’t know how I forgot just how deliciously sweet she was. How in the world could I ever forget?

Maybe it’s because she only gave me a meager drop last time. Maybe it’s because I tried to not think about what I was missing out on. All I know is that when I taste her, when I hold her, I’m the closest to heaven I’ll ever be.

Despite my wicked past, my penchant for violence, this beautiful angel is in my arms gifting me her blood—gifting me her.

I take a heavy draw of her blood, the warm liquid trickling down my throat. I feel my strength returning tenfold.

My thumb is dangerously close to her breast and all I want to do is squeeze, touch, and press her against me while I swallow down the sweetest nectar of my life.

Then she shocks me. She fucking moans. No sound has ever rattled me more. It’s like a siren song.

I hold her tighter, squeezing her as close as I can at this angle, her back against my chest.

“More. More, War.”

The nickname has a whimper slipping out of my lips. They don’t leave her throat as I adjust her on my lap. Her full ass is pressed against my now fully alert cock, now that I’ve fed.

I’m about to remove my fangs. I haven’t taken too much, not even close. I don’t know why I doubted myself with Ember, I’d never take it too far.

But then her hand snakes around my neck, tugging me closer to her throat.

“Don’t stop. Fuck. Touch me. I’m so close. Holy Hecate,” she says breathlessly.

Touch? She’ll let me fucking touch?

With both hands, I cup her breasts, squeezing and kneading her considerable tits that I’m bedeviled by. They’re more than a handful, and all I can imagine is sinking my teeth into one while I fuck her. I can’t help it when I grind against her ass.

Her warmth, her sounds, everything about this witch is fucking addictive.

I was obsessed before, but now? Now I’m absolutely, devastatingly impassioned by everything that is Ember Hallow. I’d fantasized about having her like this, her freely giving me her blood, but I never conceptualized what it would be like to actually have her.

She fucking owns me and I’m a wholly eager prisoner to her capture.

Ember grinds back on my lap and she whimpers, grabbing one of my hands and sliding it down her front, over her soft stomach and under her bunched up dress.

“More. Please. Please, War.”

My witch is begging for me and I’m fucking wrecked over it. I want to take the gloves off, feel her wet heat against my fingers, but there’s not enough time. I need to stop feeding. I’m barely drawing in any blood right now, but it seems to be an aphrodisiac for us both.

Instead, I slide her panties to the side, the tips of my fingers dragging down her slit, feeling the wetness even through the leather.

I’ve barely circled her clit as her fingernails dig into my neck, drawing my mouth even closer to her throat.

“Suck. Hard. Now,” she demands.

I moan as I do what she says, toying with her pussy, strumming my fingers against her clit, not penetrating her under the current circumstances, but little does she know I’d fuck her, devour her, any time of the month.

It happens so fast, her head falling against my shoulder and her thighs quaking as she shudders out her release. Her body trembles against mine as I hold her close.

Never in my life have I felt as strong as I do now. I’m gentle as I pull my fangs away from her throat, licking a trail up the column of her neck to the back of her ear.

My one hand is splayed against her stomach as I bring the other from her pussy to my lips. She watches. Those big beautiful green eyes don’t blink as I put my gloved fingers in my mouth, tasting her pussy for the first time.

Her full lips part, her heart still racing from the excitement, the feeding, and her orgasm. The scent of her arousal and blood is entrancing. I’m nearly about to come in my pants as her flavor hits my tongue.

Her blood and come paints my tongue and I can’t help but to savor it, my eyes shutting as I hum around my fingers.

I slip my fingers out of my mouth, bite the glove, tugging it off my hand as I prick my finger with a fang. I drag my blood over her throat, healing the wound before bringing the finger to her mouth.

“Suck,” I tell her.

She shocks me by being obedient, parting her lips and never looking away from me. She sucks on my finger and all sense of control leaves me as I jolt against her ass, my release spilling in my pants.

Ember gasps as I pull my finger out of her mouth and we’re both panting now.

“My blood will heal any of your injuries from earlier. But we should probably look you over for any pieces of glass,” I tell her, and she blinks at me.

Her hand slides up to her throat, her fingers trailing over her now perfectly smooth skin where I bit her.

She swallows, her throat bobbing as her pulse increases.

“Will it…will it do anything else?” she asks, her eyes searching mine as she looks at me over her shoulder.

“It could have other effects,” I say casually.

That has her hopping off my lap, and she clears her throat, flattening out her dress.

“No, no, no. We did not just do all of that for you to lie to me or talk in riddles. You said you were going to be honest, that you want to be a better man. What will your blood do? Why do I want to peel my clothes off and let you bite me again? What the fuck is wrong with me?”

She starts pacing, not even letting me answer.

“Nothing has ever been like that,” she says, waving a hand at me, tears streaming from her face.

“Nothing, Warin, not even close. You’re violent, manipulative, and secretive.

” I go to open my mouth and she points at me to shut up.

“Then there are these moments where you make me feel like I’m the only person who matters.

You’ve proven you want to keep me safe, that you’re attracted to me.

Ugh, I’m so overwhelmed with every emotion, I want to crawl out of my fucking skin.

So consider your next words wisely. They better be honest. So tell me, why?

Why does it feel like this?” She’s nearly shouting at me, pointing with accusation.

“Then I suppose we need to go back to 1933. Take a seat. I’ll show you everything,” I say.

She takes a deep breath, her chest shifting up and down as she breathes heavily. Her pupils are huge and her arousal and blood are still thick in the air, but I’m not dumb enough to bring that up now.

It takes her a few moments, and she licks her lips. She takes a few steps before sitting next to me on the bed, her wand in hand.

I go to reach for her face to wipe away her tears and she thankfully lets me. I want to taste them too, but I wisely decide not to.

“The truth, Warin. I need the truth,” she says.

“Okay, the truth,” I whisper and Ember takes a breath, holding up her wand, doing the basis of the spell I gave her access to.

This will either fix everything or ruin it as she slithers into my memories.