Page 46 of The Witch's Pet
“Not once have I told you that the binding spell creates feelings, Hannah.”
Oh my God. She’s right.
So all this fluttering in my chest and the pleasure rocketing through me whenever she touches me…? “But the spellwantsus to be close, right?”
“Pleasant physical sensations are not the same as desire. The binding spell does not control your emotions.”
I keep staring at her, my heart beating fast. God, whatamI feeling? Do I genuinely want her?
“Still think you can handle an intimate feeding?” She watches me closely, maybe seeing my panic as my world frantically reshapes itself.
I swallow hard, unsure how to answer. If I’m already this confused about how I feel, adding an intimate feeding ritual is not going to help.
But every inch of me is betraying me, leaning closer. I desperately want her hands on me again even though I know what those hands have done. Even though I can no longer blame the binding spell for making me want this.
“Whatever it takes to survive,” I whisper.
“Liar.” The word is so soft I almost miss it. “You want more than survival.”
Before I can summon any semblance of self-control, her fingers slide into my hair as they have several times tonight, gripping hard.
I let my eyelids flutter closed as her lips hover over mine, achingly close but not touching.
For a few heartbeats, we stay like that, our breath misting between us in the charged silence. I can taste her exhale, feel the warmth radiating from her skin.
“Final chance to reconsider,” she murmurs.
Ishouldbe reconsidering. How many people has this woman killed? But as the feeding lingers between us, right within reach, fear is the furthest thing from my mind.
I tip my chin forward, barely a centimeter, and our lips touch. Fire shoots through me, blazing hot and all consuming.
Julia hisses. She leans closer, her lips capturing mine, and I open for her with a whimper I can’t suppress.
Her hips and breasts press against me. Her tongue traces my lips. Dips into my mouth. She makes a sound that’s half moan, half growl.
She murmurs the incantation into my mouth, her breath hot and her lips tantalizingly soft.
Power crackles between her fingers as she grabs my arm, my shoulder, my throat, raking her hands over every accessible bit of my skin. Wild shadows dance in the air around us as she feeds. And it’s not just on my breath this time, but something much deeper. She’s reaching into my soul, drawing involuntary gasps and whimpers from my mouth.
She kisses me like she wants to devour me. Her teeth catch my bottom lip, and I moan into her mouth, my hands fisting in her cloak. The sensation is an overwhelming mix of pleasure and the terrifying awareness that she could drain me completely if she wanted to.
And somehow the danger only makes me want her more.
As my life force rises through my core and out through my mouth, fueling her magic, unbearable pleasure climbs higher in its wake. It’s like my body is hurtling toward a climax, ready for a release like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
Yes. Yes.
Ineedthis, and not just because a spell demands it. I’m desperate for it. I need her fingers inside me and her mouth on my breasts. I want her to strip me naked, to make me writhe and beg and scream.
A strange darkness hovers at the edge of my vision, threatening to overwhelm me.
This is how I die,I think, my inner voice growing distant.Willingly feeding myself to a monster.
Dimly, I think I feel her palms on my face, her thumbs stroking my cheeks. Something in my chest hums, warm and pleasant, like the placewhere the binding spell has settled is purring. But then her hands are on my throat again, and I must have imagined that moment that felt almost like tenderness.
She pulls back with a gasp, breathing hard, her pupils dilated and her eyes dark around the edges. Her fingers are black, magic crackling wildly between them.
I gulp down air as feeling flows back into my limbs. The tiredness ebbs, and in its place, I’m trembling with need. That can’t be it. She has to keep going, to keep taking from me until we’re both satisfied.