Colin: Her Warlock Protector Book 4 (12 page)

“You should have let me kill them both,” he growled, tracing the bruises on her legs and her ribs.
 

“No, don't talk about that now,” Selene whispered, “Come here instead.”

She raised a hand to pull him down to the bed with her, and he came willingly enough.

“If we're going to do this now, I need to make sure that I am not going to hurt you.”

Selene's smile was small, and with every word she spoke, she ran small kisses over his face, his neck, his arms and his hands.

“We're going to hurt each other,” she said. “We're going to fight and cry. We’re both so bullheaded, I'll be surprised if there are months where we can't stand the sight of each other. Eternity is a very long time, my love, and we are far from perfect.”

He frowned as if he wanted to speak, but she planted a long, deep and drugging kiss on his lips before pulling away.

“Only imperfect people can love perfectly,” she said, looking up into his extraordinary green eyes. “I love you, and I want to give you everything, joy and sorrow alike.”

His only response was a deep kiss, and in a way that she had never felt before, Selene was connected to him. They were together, they would be one, and they could have all of eternity to figure out what that might mean.
 

She started to lean up on her elbow to kiss him, but one large, heavy hand rested against her shoulder, bearing her down to the bed again.

“If you want to do this now, we're going to do it my way,” Colin said firmly. “You'll tell me if you're in pain, you'll tell me if I am doing something wrong, and…”

“Yes?” she asked with mock impatience.

“You'll tell me when I'm doing something right, too.”

She only had a moment to register his impish grin when his clever hand skated along the curve of her hip and around the curve to the light fluff of hair between her legs. He stroked it gently for a few moments, and though she craved more, she lay still. She was always one for the lightning encounters that left them both feeling spent, but now she let him take the lead. She shivered when his touch grew more intimate, and she spread her legs apart to give him more.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he whispered, and she smiled.

“I can tell you think so.”

“No, not just in my eyes,” he murmured, tracing patterns over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs with his fingertips. “You turn heads wherever you go, and it's not just because of your smile, your face, or your body. You have your own light. You glow. You walk in a beauty that stays with people.”

She laughed a little, but he stopped it with a small kiss. It hardly seemed fair that he could get his way simply by kissing her.

“I've seen you brave, and I've seen you scared. I've seen you give generously to someone that you've never met before, and I've seen you in some of the most dire straits a human can be in. You rose out of that darkness, and you have a light in you that I would follow until the day I die.”
 

This kiss was deeper, and she knew in her bones that this was forever.

His hand rose to caress her body from neck to shoulder to breast and back down to her thighs, and by then, she was twisting on the sheets. The distant ache of her body was less important than having this man with her, inside her, and she tugged on his pants with the hand that wasn't fisted in the sheets.

“I need you,” she whispered, and he was naked and by her side again in a matter of seconds.
 

“I need you,” he responded, and with an infinite amount of care, he raised her so that she was straddling his naked hips.

“Colin…Colin I don't know if I can…with my legs…”

“Shh, it's fine, I'll show you.”

She had been afraid that she would need to support her weight but instead, Colin's hands were wrapped around her hips and they lifted her easily. She pressed herself against the hardness of his manhood a few times, and then she reached down to pull him inside of her. They both sighed with pleasure when he was fully seated, and her eyes drifted open to see him staring at her with a ferocity that should have scared her. Instead, it only told her that she belonged with this man, and she smiled.

“Show me,” he said, then swallowed and tried again. “Show me how you touch yourself, let me see.”

She gasped when he started thrusting up into her, and slowly, aware that he was controlling himself for her, she reached down between her legs. She was slick under her own fingers, and she knew that he was watching her like his life depended on it.
 

The first few tentative strokes of her fingers set her on fire. She rocked herself on his body, and she heard his guttural groan. The familiar tightness was spiraling through her frame, and now she could feel it with him too. The power of two Wiccans joined together fed off of each other, becoming greater together than they ever could be apart, and she felt that power course through her.

 
Her body tensed, and her pleasure drew tighter and tighter. He was pushing up into her, and her fingers stroked her sex with a mercilessness that should have made her blush. But right now, all she could concentrate on was how good it felt, how perfect it was to be on top of the man she loved with every inch of her being.
 

She could feel the heat start to course down her spine, and then she was shaking, unable to control it. Her climax made her crouch down and wrap her arms around Colin's body. He was the only stable thing in the world, and she clung to him hard as the point of no return passed over her, through her, and left her shaking and spent.

He let out a deep breath, and when his movements sped up, Selene realized he had been waiting for her to climax before he took his own pleasure.

Now she could relish the way his body surged up into hers, how his breath became short and choppy. When he climaxed, he held her as tight as he could, and she felt him pour his essence deep inside her.

They lay still for a moment, and for the first time in her life, Selene knew what true contentment was. Colin rolled her to her side, and then gathered her to his chest.

“Wherever you go, I go,” he said softly.

“We're going to go everywhere,” Selene said with a smile.

EXCERPT FROM VINCENT: Her Warlock Protector Book 5

Amanda kicked off her Chucks and turned toward him as he closed and locked the door. His broad back to her, Amanda only realized when he turned to her that she’d begun to reach for him. Startled, she dropped her hands.

“Why are you still wearing this?” Vincent asked lowly, undoing the top button of her coat.

Again the rush of blood in her ears pounded so loudly, almost all sound was blotted out. Slowly he worked his way down, opening it and sliding it from her shoulders. He tossed it over the back of the sofa, followed quickly by his jacket.

“You wear a gun?” she asked, staring at it.

It was some sort of black handgun, and it was huge. He’d begun to take off the holster but hesitated.

“Protect,” he said quietly, as though his thoughts had drifted off.

For a few agonizing moments, Amanda thought he might put the gun right back on, and then his jacket.

“Don’t stop,” she heard herself say.

His intense blue eyes flicked up at hers, but then he slipped the holster from his shoulders.
 

Amanda watched the muscles of his back move under his shirt as he rolled his shoulders now that the holster was off. Two steps and the palms of her hands were pressed against the cotton of his shirt, feeling those tight muscles shift. His head tilted back with a loud groan as she pressed the heels of her hands in and spread her fingers to knead her way up his back and across his shoulders.
 

"Jesus, that's good."
 

“It’d feel a lot better if you took the shirt off."
 

He spun around, caught her around the waist with his left arm and pulled her body flush against his. The soft pads of his fingers grazed her cheek as he leaned down, cobalt eyes locked on hers until the very last second. Soft and wet, it was an adoration more than a kiss, his mouth hot against her cool lips. The first kiss was followed by another and another, the top lip then the bottom, each lip sucked slowly between his, teeth scraping just enough to tease, to torture, but not enough to pull away.

Amanda knew she was going to be driven mad by the jolts of arousal that spiraled from her lips through her body, as she crushed herself against him, her mouth open to his to be tasted. Then he pulled away—that fraction of an inch too far away. The sensitive skin of her lips felt the breeze of his shallow breaths and caused her to moan. His tongue flickered across her bottom lip.
 

"Why didn't we do this in high school?" he asked, his hands teasing along the hem of her blouse.

Breathless, she staggered backward toward the bed, hand wrapped in the placket of Vincent’s dress shirt pulling him along with her.
 

"You’d have been lousy in High School."

His eyebrows drew together as a flash of consternation crossed his chiseled features. But then he grinned, eyes alight.
 

"You're right, I'm much better now."
 

He was back on her, mouth open, both of his hands twisted in her hair, moving her head in tandem with his, as his mouth demanded that hers surrender.
 

Dizzy from the onslaught, her left hand pressed against his chest, right hand still wound in the front of his shirt, torn between pushing him away and climbing him like a tree. Fingers trembling, she unbuttoned his shirt, pulled the tail free of his pants, and opened the front to expose his solid pecs.

He shivered when she ran her manicured nails down his chest, then bent to tease his nipple with her tongue. Her fingers brushed past his navel as she wrapped her hand around his belt buckle, his hips thrusting against her touch. He gently tugged at her hair, her face turning up towards him even as she pulled open his belt.
 

"Do you like this blouse?" he asked, his voice throaty.

For a moment she didn’t understand. Then her face flushed.

“No,” she managed to get out.

He smiled and gently pushed her hands away from his zipper. Lips parted, she panted as he wound his fingers into the low V of her black knit shirt and pulled. The fabric's rending was loud in the small room. Her nipples jutted out, pulling the sheer fabric of her bra tight.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

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COPYRIGHT © 2015 Hazel Hunter

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
 

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