Page 118 of Bad Witch

I shoved at his shoulder, and he rolled again, returning to his back. I gasped at the change of position, and the way it forced him deeper inside me, filling me almost past my limits. I leaned over him, my hair falling around us like a curtain, and took in the burnished gold of his eyes and his heaving chest that told me he was fighting for control. I loved all of it, all of him. “It is my turn to claim you, my strong, beautiful, wonderful mate,” I whispered.

A shuddering breath left him. “Whatever you need to do, I am yours.” His fingers flexed against my hips. “Claim your male, baby. Claim me however you want.”

I started to move, rocking on top of him, keeping him deep inside me. Fender’s fingers stayed locked on to my waist, holding me to him as he began to roll his hips in a small circle that had us grinding together. His eyes were brighter, he was breathing harder. I ran my hand over his chest, pressing my palm to his heated skin, right over his heart.

“Here,” I said and whimpered as he thrust back in deep. “I want it here,” I said, feeling delirious from the intense pleasure building inside me. I wanted to take my fire back, to own it. I wanted to turn it into something beautiful, instead of something to be scared of. I wanted to claim it, while I claimed the beautiful male under me because he was the reason I was no longer afraid. I leaned forward and licked and kissed the spot where I wanted to brand him as mine. I’d been thinking about it ever since we got back. I’d never done anything like it before, but knew I could.

Fender lifted me, so he could slide out farther, then slammed me back down. I cried out as the pleasure climbed higher.

“What do you want there?” he asked, his gaze burning into me.

“My mark.” I leaned over him as our bodies ground against each other. “I want to mark you like you did me. Will you let me?” I asked.

“Yes,” he groaned.

“It’ll burn,” I said, moving faster.

He nipped my jaw and flashed his teeth. “I don’t mind a little heat, peaches.”

No, I suppose a hellhound wouldn’t. Our movements grew more frenzied. I was close, so close. Sliding my palms to where I wanted to brand his flesh, I pressed them firmly against him and called to his blood, drawing it to the surface.

Fender gasped, then thrust inside me with more force. I pressed my mouth to his, swallowing his groans as I set the blood alight, a white-hot blaze too hot to flame.

Fender barked out a harsh sound, and his cock thickened inside me. He held me to him tight, and came, shuddering against me. I cried out, coming with him, my body clutching chaotically around him, holding him deep inside.

I collapsed on top of him, my face to his throat, while his cock kept me there, locking us together. His hand slid up and down my back as we both caught our breath, and this time, without my panic, it only took a couple minutes for his knot to release me. He dragged me higher and slipped from my body, then threaded his fingers in my hair and kissed me, rolling us as he did, so we were on our sides facing each other.

Then he finally looked down at his chest and traced the stylized T I’d branded into his skin. He looked up at me, a huge grin on his face.

“What do you think?” I asked, and carefully traced it with my fingers as well. “The sting will ease soon, but the brand will remain.”

“I fucking love it, peaches.” Then he tilted his head to the side. “I do have one question though?”

I fought my grin. “Oh?”

“Why does my ass cheek sting as well?”

I curled my fingers around the side of his neck. “I decided to cover all my bases and make sure no one missed who you belong to.”

He chuckled. “You put a T on my ass?”

I shook my head. “A peach.”

Fender tugged me closer, wrapping me in his massive arms, and laughed, a joyful rumbling that slid through me and easily pulled me into his happiness, because it was mine too.

“It seemed an appropriate location,” I added.

That set him off again, and I joined him until tears rolled down my face.

I had no idea what the future held, but one thing I was sure of, whatever happened, I would be doing it with my mate at my side.

I woke early, a pale blue light filling the room. The sun was starting to rise.

Something had woken me, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Slipping out from under Fender’s arm, I crossed the room. Candlelight flickered from the kitchen. I frowned, confused. I hadn’t lit any candles. As I neared the table, I spotted the Matildas’ grimoire. It sat where I’d left it, only now it was open, and there was a pot of black ink and a quill sitting beside it. The Matildas could do things like this, move things, if they all worked together. It didn’t happen often.

I stepped closer, staring down at the page it was open to. These pages had been blank the last time I’d looked at this book, only a few days ago. I read the heading, across one of the pages.

Matildas code of conduct.