Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 212458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1062(@200wpm)___ 850(@250wpm)___ 708(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 212458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1062(@200wpm)___ 850(@250wpm)___ 708(@300wpm)
“We’ll see her in a few days,” I say. “She and Tyson need some time. Like we do. Your mom messaged that she talked to your sister and said she’s okay, so stop worrying.”
Amelia shoots me a look of exasperation and forks up another bite. The last bite of the sweet crepe.
I wait, watching her enjoy the rest of her food and when she finally finishes her last bite from the savory plate, I rise and round the table, then I pluck her up into my arms. She gasps as I carry her toward the stairs.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you to bed.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Fine, I’ll fuck you here,” I say, turning, and setting her on the breakfast bar, immediately moving between us and grabbing her jaw to bring her mouth to mine.
She tries to pull back, demanding, “Stop that.”
I deny the request, slipping my tongue in for a quick taste before I dot kisses along her jaw, explaining, “I’ve been listening to you moan for the last ten minutes while you took your sweet time eating, and my cock is about to rip through my sweats and find its way home. I need you. Now.”
Her eyes darken with what looks like desire. And I know it is desire because I catch my new favorite scent. Amelia’s sweet pussy. She’s wet for me.
I lift her and carry her to the couch, eyes locked. She’s not fighting. Her chest steadily rises and falls. She’s panting. Oh yeah, she wants me.
She rolls her lips and then licks them as I put her on her back on my couch, then reach for her fly. I get the jeans off and haul the crotch of her sodden panties aside before I pull the waistband of my sweatpants down enough to free myself. In one forward hip thrust, I fill her.
Fuck, she feels good. Hot, tight, silky. She clamps around me and this pulls a growl from my chest, which sends her teeth into her bottom lip as her eyes rove my face before they lock with mine.
“You like those crepes?” I ask.
She shrugs. “They were all right.”
“You liked them.”
She rolls her eyes like she finds my delight annoying. “Fishing for compliments is also unattractive.”
“You usually find me attractive? All this?” I use her words of earlier while I roll my hips, gaining the magical effect of pulling a whimper from her.
“All this is just witchcraft, Doggo,” she says a breath after the whimper.
“I don’t care, wildberry.”
“Well, I do.”
“If it’s witchcraft and it’s beyond our ability to resist this chemistry between us, stop feeling bad about it. Let’s just enjoy it.” I caress her face. “Besides, it’s gonna build into something real. Something unbreakable. It’s already happening.”
And emotion comes at me at the same time as it flares in her eyes. Longing. She wants this to be real.
It hits me hard that it already is. The notion of an unbreakable bond feels good. Feels right. I have zero doubts: I’m a hundred percent confident in the reality. I’m hers; she’s mine. I have something that’s all mine. Forever. And it feels fucking incredible.
I grasp her knee and wrap her leg around me while I feel the beauty of her pussy milking my cock.
14
Amelia
Those crepes were gourmet restaurant quality. I could eat them daily for the rest of my days. The rest of my days with this view, in this house, with this man. And his huge, beautiful, magical dick.
Alas, that won’t be happening.
While he’s fucking me into his couch, while he’s driving that beautiful dick into me, so deeply while expertly rubbing my clit, he’s staring at me as if there’s no place in the world he’d rather be. And this hits me square in the feels. He’s giving off energy that shows my pleasure matters. How refreshing.
He’s not picturing a celebrity or a porn star or some more exciting fantasy in his head. He’s not thinking my hair would be better if it were blonde or that he wishes my stomach were flat and there was no cellulite on my butt. He’s looking at me like I’m what he wants. Me. Here. Now and forever. Nothing and no one else.
It might sound crazy that I’m getting this from the look on his face, but I am. And it’s freaking me out.
So freaked out because I’m torn between soaking it up and bursting into tears because of how amazing it would be if this were my reality. I need to work hard to turn that part of my brain off. The part that wants to believe that magic can somehow be married to reality.
The longer I’m here, the more it’s going to hurt to go back to my life. And Ivy might have told Mom she’s okay, but is she? That was a 9-1-1 text. Did that get sent before or after she and Mom talked?