Gift of the Gods (Magic Blessed Academy 1)

Still, I refused to back down or let him know he was getting to me. I took a step forward too, standing just inches from him, looking up into his eyes.

“You think you’re so tough. Are you stepping to me? Because let me just remind you, I’m a fucking fighter, and now I have magic. I fight men in a ring; men twice your size. You don’t scare me.”

I watched him lick his lips, and it took everything in me not to jump him right in the hallway—whether to fuck him or to fight him, I wasn’t quite sure. But from the way he was looking back at me, I could tell we were playing a little game. A game of lust and want.

And I didn’t like to lose.

He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me closer, my body pressing against his. “I thought you liked it rough.”

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and ran my fingertips up his thigh. “I do. Maybe that’s why you never managed to satisfy me.”

His nostrils flared, and his eyes seemed to darken as his pupils dilated.

He glanced around, seeming almost startled when he realized we were alone in the hallway. I figured he might drag me back into the large auditorium we’d come out of and push me up against the wall—just like me, he’d never been scared of pissing off authority figures—but instead, he tightened his grip on my wrist and pulled me down the hallway.

I was a fighter. Magical abilities aside, I had little doubt that I could break his hold on me and put him on his back in less than ten seconds.

But for some reason, I didn’t.

Maybe it was because heat was spreading up my arm from the place where his fingers encircled my wrist, filling my body with a desperate hunger I hadn’t felt in way too long.

Maybe it was because even though I knew where this was going, even though I knew I was playing with fire, I kind of wanted to get burned.

Apparently, Merrick knew where he was going, which made sense since he was a second-year. We went up a flight of stairs, rounded several corners, and burst into what looked like a large supply closet. A young guy and girl—teacher’s assistants, maybe—were gathering items I didn’t recognize from the shelves, and they looked up with a start when Merrick threw the door open.

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I need the room.”

They hurried out, shutting the door behind them, and I stared at the spot where they’d just been, both impressed and annoyed by the way they’d jumped at Merrick’s command. “Please don’t tell me that’s how everybody here treats you.”

He yanked me toward him and ran his nose up my neck to my ear. “Not everyone. You don’t. At least, not yet.”

“Don’t worry, Merrick. That will never happen. Can’t let you get too big for your little britches,” I shot back, even as I tried to keep my legs from wobbling as a jolt of sensation shot through me.

The drag of his nose along my skin was driving me crazy. I could feel him inhaling me, breathing deeply as if he was trying to absorb my entire essence—to steal me from myself.

It made me think of the possessive way he had looked at me sometimes, back before I’d ghosted him.

As if he could never get enough of me.

“I’m already too big for my britches, Ari,” he murmured roughly, grabbing my hand and bringing it down to his crotch, showing me exactly what this was doing to him.

He was rock hard, his thick length straining against his pants, and I made a strangled, hungry noise in the back of my throat as I rubbed my palm over the heat of it, jerking him off through the fabric.

Gods. I would never, ever tell him this, but I’d missed his cock. It was fucking perfect, long and thick, with a fat vein running along the length that I had worshipped with my tongue over and over.

Anger spiked in my veins at the fond memories Merrick was eliciting in me, and I ground my hand harder against his dick in retribution.

He growled, grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling my head back, nipping and biting at the skin of my throat. “If you’re trying to punish me, Ari, you might want to try abusing a different part of me. You can do that all fucking day.”

As if to prove his point, he thrust toward my palm, forcing me to rub him harder. My pussy clenched as he worked his dick against my hand, and I could feel my breath coming faster.

“You like that, don’t you? You like touching my cock.” He lifted his head, bringing us nose-to-nose, our faces so close we were breathing each other’s air—and I swore the fucker was stealing all my oxygen.

“Hey, I’m just trying to find it,” I muttered. “I’m about to send a search party down there to look for your pencil dick.”

He laughed, his breath wafting over my cheek as he put one hand over mine, guiding my movements, using me to pleasure himself just how he liked.

“Oh, you’ve found it. And don’t pretend you don’t love this, Ari. That was always one of my favorite things about you. You enjoyed sex, and you were never ashamed of that. I used to love watching you suck my dick. You didn’t just do it out of obligation. You did it because it turned you the fuck on.”