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“Hush,” he cut her off. “Enough talking.”
Throwing the condom over his shoulder, he grabbed her hips, positioned himself, and thrust into her. Hazel’s throaty moan overlaid his own, and he had to pause for a good moment, lest the feel of her—slick, hot, her inner muscles tightening around his cock—should make him blow his load embarrassingly early.
“Fuck,” he said hoarsely, closing his eyes. “You feel so good.”
Her only answer was a husky groan, a shimmer in her aura that spoke of appreciation. Slowly, he withdrew, his fingers digging into her hips, and then he shoved into her again with measured force. Feeling her skin on skin, feeling the slick friction of his cock sliding in and out of her, it was a pleasure unlike any he’d ever experienced. Thrust by thrust, driven by relentless need, he sped up until the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the kitchen, a primal beat of lust, with Hazel’s moans the sweetest music to it.
An intense craving as he’d never known it ruled every last part of him, dissolved all thoughts except to keep fucking her, to keep claiming her, to brand himself so thoroughly onto each and every cell of her being that she’d live and breathe to be his.
With a snarl, he wrenched control back from that fierce, feverish urge, his heart thundering in his chest. He had to finish this, or else…
Focusing his demon energy, he sent it to pool against her clit. His species wasn’t telekinetic per se, but he could direct his power in a similar way, if a bit cruder.
It was enough to make her shatter. She came with a hoarse cry, ecstasy rippling through her aura, her muscles clenching around his cock. He hammered into her, let his own release build and rush through him, the pleasure so intense it made his vision whiten for a moment. He kept rocking into her until the last of his seed was spilled, until the surge of bliss started fading to a pleasant hum in his blood.
That feral need inside him remained.
A part of him ached in a wholly unfamiliar way, as if he’d just noticed an amputated limb. His cock made no move to soften. In fact, it twitched quite eagerly, causing Hazel to moan and wiggle against him. In response to her movements, that dark, possessive urge in him roared to renewed strength, and his fingers tightened at her hips, ready to hold her down while he took her again, and again, making sure she bel—
Oh, no.
This couldn’t be fucking happening.
Not with her.
He shoved away from Hazel as if burned, pulled out, and set himself to rights with jerky, unsteady hands. Damn if it didn’t hurt like a bitch to have to squeeze his still-hard cock back into his pants. His heart pounded so loud he was surprised it didn’t rattle the walls.
Hazel made a pleasure-drenched sound, still laid out flat on her stomach on the kitchen island, thoroughly and happily well fucked. He grimaced and hesitated. He had been planning on staying, carrying her upstairs, and making good on his promise to ensure she was spent enough to sleep. Now, though…now he didn’t dare touch her again.
Not even to help her down from the kitchen island and adjust her skirt. It pained him to leave her like this, but better that than the alternative.
He cleared his throat while backing away. “I, uh, have to go.” Smooth, Tallak. “Something urgent…came up. See you.”
And with that, he all but ran from the room.
* * *
“What the—” Hazel lifted her head. “Tallak?”
The faint sound of the front door falling shut.
Confusion dispelling some of the haze of pleasure clouding her mind, she pushed her upper body off the kitchen island and gingerly slid down over the edge. Her legs wobbled precariously when her feet touched the floor, and she held on to the counter for a moment to steady herself. Her skirt fell down around her hips, the rustle of the soft material the only sound in the otherwise disturbingly quiet kitchen.
She blinked and glanced around. That son of a beach. He’d simply left? Just like that? After thoroughly debauching her in the kitchen and giving her a mind-melting orgasm, he’d left her literally hanging over the edge with her bum in the air and fled like an ill-mannered one-night stand?
“You have got to be kidding me,” she ground out.
Not that she particularly wanted or needed him to coddle her after sex, but maybe staying for a few minutes after would have been nice. At the very least, until she’d come down from that darn island and didn’t have her skirt up around her waist anymore.
Leaving her hanging like that…pfft.
Narrowing her eyes, she stomped off to clean up. Next time she saw him, she’d show him what it felt like to find yourself splayed out with your butt all exposed.
CHAPTER 18
It was raining buckets when Tallak got out of the car, and in the few seconds it took him to hurry up to the veranda, he was almost soaked through. Taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell. The wards of the house tingled over his skin, making the hairs on his arms and neck stand on end. Powerful. Intimidating. And yet, clearly different in flavor from the magic of the witch he’d just left properly fucked and inappropriately confused back in her kitchen.
While he waited, he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the dark glass of the door, illuminated by the porch light. Hair plastered to his face from the rain, eyes burning with orange-gold fire, expression more than slightly homicidal. He grimaced. Better check myself. If that witch were the one to open the door and saw him like this, she’d fry him on the spot.
