Necromancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 6)

“You mean for me to die?”

He nodded.

“What if I’d married? What if I’d given up hope and married the first guy who came along on the rebound?”

He lifted her hand and looked at her naked ring finger. “You didn’t. Even if you had, I would’ve never stopped fighting for you.”

She wiped a tear from her cheek. “Does this mean we have a second chance?”

“You bet your life. I’m going to love you so hard, starting right now.”

Her breath caught as he cupped her face, her skin coming alive with a familiar tingle, one only his touch could ignite.

“It’s b–been a long time.” She felt nervous, frightened, happy, and excited, all at the same time.

“I know. For me, it was only yesterday, and it’s been too long.”

Lowering his head slowly, he brushed his lips over hers. A shudder of pleasure ran over her body. She closed her eyes as he kissed her deeper before easing up to plant a trail of kisses down her neck to the hollow of her throat. Forcing her eyes open, she looked at him. She didn’t want to miss anything.

“Ivan, tell me this is real.”

“I have a better idea. How about I show you?” He pushed her down until her back hit the sofa. “You said you wanted a cuddle on the couch, didn’t you?” He slipped a hand under her dress and up her thigh. “I hope your neighbors are out, tonight.”

She bit her lip as his fingers brushed over the silk of her panties. He pushed it away with an impatient movement to drag a finger over her folds. The touch was too soft. She needed more. She arched her back and tilted her hips up, but he pressed down on her sex with his palm and then his touch was gone. With painstaking patience, he pulled down the zipper on the side of her dress. He pulled the fabric over her shoulders and down her arms, exposing her bra and then her stomach.

His gaze followed the path of his hands as if he was unwrapping a present and wanted to make the surprise last. When he’d pulled the dress over her hips and feet, he got up to stare at her lying on the couch in her lacy white underwear.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Alice Jones.”

He pulled the T-shirt over his head and flicked it aside. Instead of unfastening his pants, he pushed her thighs apart and kneeled between her legs on the couch. He lowered his body over hers, letting their chests touch. Taking her hands in his, he intertwined their fingers and placed them above her head.

“Alice…”

His voice was that raspy, sexy sound that sent a delicious shiver down her spine. He kissed her deeply, sweeping his tongue over hers before kissing a path between her breasts all the way to her lace-covered sex. She wanted nothing more than to feel his tongue on every part of her body.

“Do you want me, Alice?” he asked, his voice vibrating against her skin.

“More than anything.”

He pulled the elastic of her panties aside and pressed his lips to her bare skin.

She cried out in pleasure.

He licked her slit from top to bottom, giving her just enough of a tease to make her even wetter.

“Please, Ivan.”

He sucked her clit into his mouth, working her into a frenzy of need. Just when she thought she couldn’t take more, he stopped to move the scrap of lace down her legs and over her feet. He pulled her into a sitting position and reached behind her back for the clip of her bra. He discarded that item of clothing, too, leaving only her shoes. Then he sat back on his heels to watch her.

“Touch yourself for me.”

She rubbed a finger around her clit.

His strangely colored eyes darkened, one to midnight blue and the other to chestnut brown. He cupped her breast and lowered his head to take the tip in his mouth. She cried out as he sucked hard. Using his free hand, he caressed the other nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Ivan…” She was so close.

He dipped a hand between her legs to cup her sex. Gently, he eased a finger inside. She rolled her hips, needing more friction, but he kept still.

Claiming her lips again with a fierce demand, he said into the kiss, “I want all of you.”

“You have me.”

“Not yet, Princess.”

He undid his jeans and freed his cock. Without bothering to remove the pants, he grabbed the root and placed the head at her entrance, inching forward just enough to part her. He slid in slowly, inch by inch, until he was buried as deep inside as he could go.

“Now I do,” he said in a rough voice.

She couldn’t get enough of looking at him. What if this was only a dream, and she was going to wake alone in her bed? What if this was just a fragment of her imagination, brought on by her desperate desire to feel and taste him? No, the friction of their bodies as he started moving was very real. Even as he took his time, the way every muscle in his body was pulled taut reflected the urgency she saw in his eyes. It was different than before. He wasn’t fucking her or spanking her simply to satisfy her needs. They were making love, real love, and she felt it in every molecule of her body.