Sylvia Day - Spellbound

He ate at her mouth, possessing it, tasting her with long deep licks. His fingers pushed into the short strands of her hair, cupping her scalp and holding her steady as he drank in her taste. His tongue fucked her leisurely, teasing her with the promise of what she truly wanted.

Victoria moaned, lost in him. Her lips felt swollen and hot, her eyelids heavy with the drugging effects of Max’s skilled seduction. His fervent words echoed through her mind, his declarations of uncontrolled obsession in erotic contrast to his absolute control while handling her.

When she was breathless and pliant, he pulled away. Running his tongue along the kiss-plumped curve of her mouth, he murmured, “Dinner first.”

Victoria nodded, but her mind raced. She’d already lost a man she loved once. She’d be damned if she would sit quietly while it happened again.

Max speared another slice of a bay scallop, swirled it in savory cream sauce, then lifted it to Victoria’s lush lips. She purred as she chewed, her nails raking along his thigh as she swallowed. Pride and pleasure slid through him along with the heat from two fingers of fine Scotch.

She shook her head when he speared another slice. “No more. I can’t eat another bite.”

Setting the fork down, he leaned closer and licked a spot of cream from the corner of her mouth. He’d never thought he would have a Familiar. Never believed he’d want the responsibility. But looking after Victoria—feeding her, bathing her, loving her—was the reason he breathed.

“You brought a movie home,” he reminded. “Do you want to watch it?”

“Do you?” Her voice was soft and husky, her cheeks flushed with vitality.

She’d been too thin when they first met, suffering from the lack of a master to care for her. She had lost her previous warlock, Darius, two centuries before, and neglect had taken its toll on both her appearance and her temperament. She’d been near feral, taunting the High Council with random acts of mischief and outwitting the numerous Hunters they sent to tame her.

Loving that spirit in her, Max had been careful in his care of her since she’d become his, maintaining the firm hand Familiars thrived under, yet giving her enough room to continue to challenge him. It was a delicate balance, one that kept them both content. He loved her with every breath in his body, desired her with a depth of need that was unquenchable.

“Let’s watch it,” he said, wanting to hold her while he considered their next best steps. He’d gotten more than an orgasm earlier; he had gained an understanding of just how dangerous his hunt for Sirius and Xander was. The magic he’d poured into Victoria had been tainted and she had cleansed it for him, restoring his equanimity, but at what cost to herself?

Victoria carried the wine and goblets into the living room while he cleared the table. When he joined her in the vast space of their loft’s living room, he found candles flickering on every surface and his woman curled on the couch with the remote in her hand. He took a moment to study her body, gilded by candlelight, then lit the fireplace with a snap of his fingers. Sinking onto the couch, he smiled as she snuggled against him and started the movie. Her selection of The Expendables 2 had him grinning. It was just so . . . her. Reclining into the cushions, he stroked his fingers through her hair and thought of the most efficient way to lure his prey out into the open.

The movie was halfway over when he decided Victoria was due a reward. He knew submission didn’t come easy to her, partly because of her nature and partly because of Darius, who had gifted her with his magic as he lay dying from a battle with the Triumvirate. She was the most powerful Familiar the Council had ever heard of, and her pairing with him, the most accomplished Hunter, made her even more powerful. Ceding control was difficult for her, which made her doing so extremely precious to him.

Grateful for her love and trust, he stroked his hand down the graceful curve of her spine, then slipped beneath the hem of her robe to play with her.

She turned her head to nuzzle into him, her breath hot against his throat as she whispered, “Oh, Max . . . I love it when you touch me.”

He pulled her onto his lap facing the television, splaying her legs on either side of his to open her to his questing touch. Her head lolled on his shoulder, her breath quickening as he parted her and massaged her clit. Turning his head, he rimmed the shell of her ear with his tongue, his cock hard and aching against the curve of her ass.

“I love touching you,” he said softly, sliding one finger into her plush, silky cunt.

She lowered the surround-sound volume with her power, her hand covering the one he slid between the halves of her robe to cup her breast. “You need me, Max. Not just in your life and your bed, but in your work. Especially with a hunt like this.”

He withdrew his slickened finger and returned with two, thrusting gently into her trembling cleft. “They’ll gun for you in order to get to me.”

“Of course they will.” She sucked in a shaky breath as he deliberately coaxed her to a fever pitch, his fingertips massaging the sensitive tissues inside her. “But we’re stronger together than apart.”

Licking into her ear, he pressed the heel of his palm into her clit. She gasped and climaxed, rippling around him. The feel of her writhing in his lap was delicious. He wondered how he’d survived before he found her. When he contemplated his past, it seemed no more than shadows, memories that lacked clarity and definition. Worlds away from the vibrancy of his current existence.

The rest of the movie passed in a blur, his attention solely on the treasure in his arms. He slid his fingers in and out of her in a deliberately leisurely way, fucking her gently, making her come repeatedly until she begged for his cock.

When the credits began to roll, he cupped her jaw and turned her head. He took her mouth with all the hunger surging inside him, the need for her that was never fully appeased. She whimpered as the kiss grew reckless and greedy, his tongue thrusting deep and fast, lapping up the intoxicating taste of her.

Victoria twisted in his arms, facing and straddling him, her hands pushing into his hair. His breath soughed from his lungs; his cock was wet with anticipation.

“Time to play, kitten,” he said gruffly.

Victoria pulled back to meet Max’s heavy-lidded gaze. “I need more than this. I need you to need me, Max. For everything. Especially your work.”

Shadows passed through his eyes. The air around them grew charged, became heavy and electrified. Power pulsed off him in waves, lapping against her senses like waves on a beach.

His lips thinned into a grim line. “I’m not liking how you’re bringing this discussion into playtime. You can’t lead me around by my dick, Victoria. But you can damn well piss me off by trying.”

She felt the sash of her robe slither around her wrists, binding them together behind her. Her breathing quickened until her chest was lifting and falling rapidly. Her pussy grew slick with wanting, her body preparing for the delicious invasion of his. When his hands gripped her hips, she shivered, her desire sharpened by the fine edge of fear. She knew he’d die before he ever hurt her, but his was a dark soul, his sexual hungers ferocious and insatiable, his need to dominate her an intrinsic part of their love affair.

In the time they’d been together, he’d taken her body in ways she could never have imagined, pushed her to her limits and beyond. He was a skilled lover, master of her desires and his own, his control unwavering.

With effortless strength, he lifted and positioned her, holding her aloft above the broad head of his cock. It notched into the clenching opening of her sex, then pushed in the few inches required for her knees to sink into the sofa cushions. She gasped at the teasing fullness, the taunting pressure spurring the anticipation of feeling his thick length sliding deep.

“Don’t move,” he warned darkly, forbidding her from sinking into his lap. “You’ll take my cock when I give it to you.”

Running his hand tenderly up her spine, Max cupped her nape and urged her to bend forward so he could take her mouth. Her eyes closed as their lips touched and the angle of his penetration pressed hard against her G-spot. She clenched around the plush head, hungry for the feel of it tunneling deeper and stretching her.

“Max,” she whimpered, desperate for friction.

“Milk my dick, kitten. Show me how much you want it.”

Victoria tightened down, rippling greedily, her aching sex trying to pull him inside her.

With a rough tug on her hips, Max obliged her, yanking her onto his raging erection with a force that drove a cry from her.

“Max!”

He groaned. His gorgeous face was flushed and taut, lines carved by the ecstasy of their joining. He ground his hips upward, screwing deep. “Hot, tight little fuck.”

With her wrists bound at her lower back and her canted position, she had no leverage. She could only give her weight over to Max and let him use her as he needed, let him hold her in place while he thrust into her.

The act of giving herself so completely to him, of surrendering her body without reservation, was profoundly arousing. She grew wetter by the moment, her pussy quivering along his plunging length in helpless delight. Erotic sounds filled the room—Max’s growls and her deep purrs, the slap of flesh meeting flesh, and the soft sucking of her creamy sex as he shafted her.

“Fuck me,” he ordered, his hands straightening her angle so that she was upright. Catching her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, he rolled and tugged as she rode his cock. The wicked pulling on her sensitive flesh echoed between her legs. He pinched her hard enough to make her cry out, then cupped her breasts in his palms, kneading them to soothe the sting. All the while her hips pounded into his, his cock bottoming out on every deep thrust.

His breath gusted across her skin as he whispered darkly, “You feel so good. So wet and tight. Your cunt is squeezing me like a fist. I’m seconds away from coming hard in you.”

“Yes,” she gasped, her sex spasming in expectation, sucking him greedily.

His arms banded like steel around her. With a feral growl, he climaxed, spurting with such violence she felt it. His magic hit her like a sledgehammer, invading in a deluge, the taint of black magic wrenching a scream from her throat.

Her Familiar power enhanced Max’s magic and cycled it back into him. He seized as it hit him, his breath hissing as his climax was spurred by the power rush, his cock swelling as he pumped her full of hot creamy semen.

Victoria trembled with the need to come, her pussy primed and so ready. But he hadn’t told her she could and her body hovered in anticipation of the command.

Pushing to his feet, Max turned and bore her to the couch, looming over her with his big, powerful body. His hips lunged, plunging his thick cock deep inside her. He fucked her roughly, his control barely maintained, his demand for her climax implicit in the way he took her. Gripping the sofa arm, he powered into her, driving her to orgasm with long, fluid thrusts.

“Come,” he growled. “Come now.”

Victoria’s back bowed as the pleasure speared through her, her sex tightening, then convulsing around him. She cried out, trembling, racked with love and longing and a desperate surge of magic. Power exploded from her, snuffing out the candles, then reigniting them with bright licks of flame. Max arched upward, his head thrown back with a virile snarl. He became the eye of the storm, his body the nexus of the magical tempest.

She clung to him as it ravaged him, the anchor he needed yet refused to reach for.

In the early hours of the morning, Max slipped from bed, careful not to wake Victoria, who slept deeply. She might not realize it yet, but he was draining her, his magic greedily tapping into hers. Such was the way of parasitic black magic. It was ravenous and soul destroying, turning warlocks and witches into junkies who cared for nothing as much as they did their next fix.

He pulled on his pants and tied the drawstring as he moved out into the living room. Over the next hour, he increased the wards around the loft, tightening security to protect his most valuable possession. He’d nearly lost Victoria in the battle against the Triumvirate and had nearly lost his mind in the process. He had crossed a line that night, using both white and black magic to lure her back from the Transcendual Realm. He’d changed then, been stained by that violation of a sacred law. The Council chose not to disavow him, because he was too valuable to Them as a warlock who would do whatever was necessary.