Page 79 of WitchCurse

What was I in that face of that? A faded prince.

“No longer faded,” Nick said, his fingers caressing my jaw as he leaned in to kiss me. It was divine. Like coming home, or becoming whole. I sank into his lips, tasting his sweetness, and wishing he was more demanding all at once. His grip on my chin tightened and he shoved me backward into the chair he’d vacated, tugging off my shirt. But he paused, his lips inches from mine. “Drop the glamour.”

I sucked in a breath, fear rising. What if he saw? Hated it? What if all of me repulsed him?

“Kiran,” Nick demanded, his other hand weaving through my hair as he perched over me in the wide armchair, “drop the glamour.”

I let go of the magic, felt the heat of it slink away into the recesses of my mind. My body pulsed with life, the vague ache of the lingering curses, and the weight of the scion bonds wrapped around me. Moving, living things, that tied to me were ever shifting. But with Nick close, I didn’t feel cold. Only worried about what he saw. The reflection of me in his gaze was only my face for a few seconds as he waited for the pulsing ripple of magic to fade, then he glanced down, heat filling his eyes.

“Much better,” he said with a sly smile. He dragged the end of my braid forward, letting the strands of the tail of it run through his fingers. “Red. It’s a bit like fire. More orangish? Still a hint of the blue beneath, like the hottest flames?”

As long as whatever he saw, didn’t repulse him, I could handle it. Or at least I hoped I could. He sank into the chair, knees on each side of my hips, his ass resting on my thighs. He reached over and lifted one of my hands, intertwining his fingers with mine and moving it between us, where he kissed the back it.

“Look at it,” Nick whispered.

I blinked, wanting only to see his face and not my monstrous form, but turned my focus to our joined hands, surprised the color of my skin was a deep golden bronze. It wasn’t the pale luminescence the fae adored, but nor did I look like my skin was withered and dying anymore. Nick smiled. “Not unlike your hair, a bit copper-like? Shades of a fire. You are the first kitsune after all, so that makes sense. Well-fed and in control suits you. What would you look like when well fucked?”

The words made my body react, images flooding my mind of Nick and me…and Toby. Were they giving me those thoughts? Nick leaned in to capture my lips again, a smile firmly tugging up the corners of his mouth. “Those are all yours, but I approve.” He kissed a line down my jaw, lips soft and searching. I sat semi-frozen, worried he would pull away if I reached for him.

He let out another sigh, and rested his forehead against mine for a moment. “Trauma fucking sucks.” He didn’t pull away, but slowly stripped out of his shirt, his gaze still locked with mine. His firm and muscled chest had always been the divine sort of thing I’d enjoyed admiring. He smiled, more a smirk than anything happy. “That’s something at least.” He stood, and shoved his pants and underwear down all at once, baring his beautiful body completely.

For years I had tried not to notice, to give him privacy even when sometimes he paraded around me with all that amazing flesh on display. But I’d have been lying if I said I never observed, or longed to explore the fine male Nick was.

He stood before me in that moment, on full display, gaze unabashed as he put his hands on his hips. I looked my fill, having to labor to break away from his face and the thick sprawl of his shoulders, and work my way down his chest, chiseled like artwork, until I reached his hips, and the jutting heavy cock that hung between his strong thighs. My own cock reacted instantly to the sight, going rock hard and dripping like I couldn’t ever recall it doing before. The need to touch him, taste him, feel him all over me, it was overwhelming, and yet I worried. What if…

“No,” he said, sliding back over me, knees spread, body pressing me into the back of the chair until I could feel his balls pressed against my pants, and his thick length against my bare stomach. “No what ifs. Just us.”

He cupped my face in both of his hands, fingers spread as he stared at me, unflinching. “Do you see me?” he asked. “I see you. All of you, every scar,” he traced a long white line on my side. “The bonds,” he ran his fingertips over the wrapping of our bond magic, and it pulled a shiver from me. “Everything. I want it all.”

“Nick…”

He kissed me to shut off any protests, tongue diving deep, tasting me as I sank into him. My heart raced, even as my mind spun. With all my nerves newly awakened, every touch and sensation was amplified by a thousand. “Touch me,” he demanded. He took my hand and pressed it to his chest. “Do you feel how my heart beats for you?”

The fast race of it beneath my palm echoed my own. He slid my hand down his chest and wrapped my fingers around his length. I trembled at the heat of him, the heft, and size, the beauty and glory of all of him. And I was touchinghim. He didn’t pull away, or shove me down and demand, instead he relaxed, tension seeming to vanish from his shoulders as I slid my fingers over his cock.

“Is this okay?” I wondered. I’d never really had a chance to explore anyone. I’d usually been bound, except for Landon, but those memories were long faded.

Nick kissed me again, deep and long, until I closed my eyes just to sink into the sensation of him exploring my mouth, my hand wrapped around his cock, and his fingers sliding in gentle caresses over my chest. He pulled away from the kiss to ask, “Who do you see right now, me or Landon?”

Was he insane? “You.”

His gorgeous burgundy curls, long enough to fall around his face and brush mine, his magnificent shoulders, and glorious cock, why would he think otherwise? I felt worthless beside such beauty, but my skin ached for his touch.

“Yeah?” he asked as his seeking fingers finally unsnapped and unzipped my pants, freeing my cock as he slid the underclothes fabric to rest beneath my balls. “How long have I wanted this?” He ran careful fingertips over my cock, tickling over the tip and down the sensitive underside. His focus intense as he traced the delicate skin over the head of me, skin he didn’t have, and I’d always thought strange. Was that a human thing?

“A human choice, sadly one that parents make for children,” Nick corrected. “One I never got a say in.” He slid the skin back on my cock to examine the tip and gather the leaking fluid, rubbing it all around the head of my dick until I was nearly writhing beneath him. “What does it feel like?” He wondered, playing with the skin, slicking it, and letting it slide between his fingers.

“Too much and not enough all at once,” I said, my hand still wrapped around his cock and absently exploring the silken head of him. The tip seemed so exposed, dripping come and almost swollen. He wasn’t a small man in any way. I slid my thumb along the end below his slit and he gasped.

“Fuck,” he cursed.

I wondered if I should stop? Was I hurting him? He pressed his forehead to mine, sucking in air as his body tensed but he didn’t pull away or demand I remove my hand.

“You trust me?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. It wasmeI didn’t trust.

He slid forward a few inches until our cocks touched, and angled the head of his until it kissed mine, then Nick carefully tugged the skin of mine over the tip of him. It was strange for a half-second, his cock dancing against mine, the skin stretched, but gliding with our mixed precome, warmth encompassing us both. He pressed his lips to mine, kiss dancing over my mouth as our cocks seemed to do the same sort of delicate touch. Nick wrapped his hand over where we joined, sliding us together, moving the skin but not enough to free him, our spend leaking between the layers of the foreskin, adding slickness and glide as sensation pooled through me in a rising tide of pleasure. It was heat and sensation that made me tremble, aching for him, even as the pleasure built.