Sin & Magic (Demigod of San Francisco 2)

“I love your sexy magic,” I whispered with a thick, sultry voice I barely recognized. My core ached for him. My body burned.

“I’m keeping that magic in check, Alexis. It’s taking all my willpower, but it’s under control. This is your response to me. And me to you.”

I blinked my eyes open, and his face was inches from mine. His gaze settled on my lips.

“I told you I would wait for you,” he said softly. Confidently. “I knew all it would take was time.”

I lightly shook my head, denying his effect on me.

His free hand touched down on the counter, blocking me in, and his other hand held mine hostage. His body pressed against mine.

“Do you not believe me?” His voice was dangerous. Thick and deep. Sexy as hell.

Without warning, a heady blast of desire shocked into me. It cocooned us in agonizing pleasure. Intense bliss sucked me under to a place from which I never wanted to emerge.

This time, he had unleashed his sexy magic, and it was better than anything I’d ever felt in my life.

9

Alexis

I moaned, utterly lost to the feeling. Yearning sucked at my focus. I wanted him inside of me, thrusting hard.

Eyes closing again, I ran my hand up his chest, over the bumps of his pectorals and then along the width of his strong shoulders. His hardness pressed into me before he shifted forward, grinding deliciously against me.

I moaned in ecstasy.

“Does the selkie magic affect you like it’s affecting me?” I asked, feeling his lips graze along my chin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“It heightens my senses. It heightens the feel of you.” He nibbled my bottom lip. “The first time I used it, it turned a woman into a mindless sex zombie. I swore I’d never influence anyone else with it. But then, no one else can withstand it like you can.”

“I’m not withstanding it, I’m rolling with it. And you’re not influencing me, I was already there.”

“I know.” His fevered lips skimmed the hollow of my throat, a viciously vulnerable area. “I want to fuck you so badly it hurts, Alexis.”

He rocked forward, rubbing against my apex. The pleasure mounted, tight and sizzling. Pounding and white hot.

“Hmm Kieran…”

One hand fisting in my hair, he released the other from the drawer and felt firmly down my back, holding me against him. As soon as my hand was freed, I reached around him and grabbed his perfect, tight butt.

He groaned into my mouth and his magic switched over, from the sexy sultriness of the selkie, to the raw, brute force of Poseidon, slamming into me.

I gasped and arched, completely swept away.

“Yes,” I exalted, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and throwing both legs up high on his hips.

He caught me without effort and leaned in harder, trapping my body against the counter and thrusting.

Thoughts drifted away. Pleasure increased. I climbed higher, wound tighter. I clutched onto him, digging in my fingers. Nearly there.

A door handle jingled somewhere in the background, barely permeating my fevered mind. A door swung open.

My ass hit the counter, hard. Cold air rushed against my front, replacing the hot press of his chest, and my hands fell, ripped away from the strong body they’d been clutching. I blinked into the sudden chill and confusion, only saved from pitching forward by his hand against my sternum.

“Wha…?” I couldn’t even form a solid word.

Kieran moved so fast he blurred. His hands were on me, around me, lifting. My butt bumped down again. The faucet turned on. My brain couldn’t process anything.

“Wha…” That was the only sound I could make as Mordecai entered my peripheral vision, trudging into the living room.

“Would ye mind peeling those?” Kieran asked, his accent heavy and his voice strained.

He’d deposited me on one of the dining room chairs in front of a spread of a few potatoes, a cutting board, and a peeler. He stood at the sink, rinsing something within the steady stream of water. On the outside, the scene looked domestic and tranquil. Normal.

But my insides were still burning for his touch, aching and tender. Electricity surged through my blood and passion throbbed in my middle.

“Mum…” At least that was a different sound.

“Hey.” Mordecai ducked into the kitchen. “Do you need any help?”

“Rum…” I rubbed my eyes.

“You okay?” I heard.

“No.” I opened my fists and rubbed my whole face this time. My body pounded, yearning for Kieran’s touch. His magic still coursed through me. It felt so right, like a key sliding into a lock and turning. “I’m tired, and I had a hard day.”

“Oh.” Mordecai stepped a little farther into the kitchen, his head bowed in fatigue, and his eyes drooping. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“You’ve had a hard day, too. Go rest. We’ll all catch up at dinner.”

“Are you sure—”

“Ask her if she needs a chaperone, Pippin,” Daisy hollered down the hall.

Daisy had watched Lord of the Rings one time, equated the sounds of Mordor with Mord-ecai, and had been peppering in references ever since. I now hated the movie purely from social annoyance.

Mordecai just stared at me. He knew I’d heard her. As they all kept reminding me, the house was small.

“Yes” was on my lips. The word was formed. I had so little control around Kieran that clearly I needed someone to run interference, but I didn’t want to admit it. Not to the kids, not to Kieran, and especially not to myself.

“I’m good,” I said, picking up a potato and staring at it. My hands shook.

“Cool. I’m going to take a cat nap on the couch. Jack made me do sprints and…” He shook his head.

“Lots of water.” Kieran only turned his upper body. He left his groin facing the cabinets. “I’ll have one of the guys bring you something for sore muscles, but you need constant water. It’ll help.”

Mordecai nodded and hooked a thumb behind him. “I have my water bottle out here. I’ll drain it. Thanks again. For everything. You don’t have to let your guys train me, but I wouldn’t work nearly as hard without them.” He shook his head. “Not nearly.”

“They’ve had a lot of training themselves. They know what the human body can withstand.”

“I’m not human,” Mordecai said with a strange tone. It was like a cocktail of pride, fear, and uncertainty.

“Which is why they are pushing you harder.”

Mordecai nodded and drifted away.

“He needs to make his first change soon.” Kieran sounded like he was talking to himself. “He’s old for never having done it. It’ll affect his psyche.”

“How do you know?” I worked at sliding the peeler across a potato, being careful not to jerk my shaky hand to the side and take off some of my skin.

It took me a second to realize he hadn’t answered me. I glanced up and my breath caught.

Kieran was facing me, his pants tented by his massive erection. His black hair stood up at odd angles, like he’d just run his fingers through it in frustration.

“Sorry about…” He didn’t gesture, but I knew he was talking about putting distance between us right before I got where I was going. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I didn’t think you’d want your wards walking in on that.” He paused, and a smile ghosted his lips. “I also didn’t want to get kicked out by a couple of teenagers.”

I forced out a breath, sagging against the table. He had a point. I would’ve been mortified if the kids had seen me like that, for so many reasons. His presence of mind was impressive. I’d barely registered Mordecai coming out of his room.

“They’ll each need their own bedrooms, though,” he went on, before reaching down and adjusting himself.

My gaze snagged on the motion, and fantasies of replacing his touch with mine brought my blood back to boiling. I wiped my forehead of moisture.

“He’s a healthy teenage boy now. He’ll need some privacy,” Kieran said, leaning back.

“They’re well used to changing in the bathroom,” I said, returning to the potatoes. “They think of each other as siblings—there’s no cause for alarm.”

“You’re not hearing what I’m saying.” He stepped closer to the table. “I’m not sure how it is for girls, but for boys, he’s at the age where his dick will be his favorite pastime. He’ll be dreaming about girls while—”

“Ew, okay.” I held up my hands to stop the words. “Got it. I know what you mean now. All clear.”

“He needs his own room.”

“I’ve already had the talk with him. He knows to deal with that stuff in the bathroom. Or shower. Or he can clean out the back shed and have his own personal wank shack. Whatever. He knows I won’t pass judgment as long as he keeps it away from their shared room.”

He shook his head before turning back to the counter. “That’s an incredibly awkward conversation. How’d he take it?”

“It’s only awkward if you’re being awkward about it. It’s a natural human situation. It’s not a big deal.”

“It will be when he doesn’t think anyone is home, wants the comfort of his bed, and Daisy walks in on him. That won’t be a good scene. Or if he thinks she’s asleep and—”