Authors: Mary Hughes
They sat side by side, turning the pages together. He relaxed as they pored over the illuminated vellum. It was comfortable, nice. Like old mated wolves.
He squashed that thought too.
“There. What about that?” He pointed at the text done in careful calligraphy, titled Mortal Reveal, subtitle
A Mundane Reveal for Altered Spells
. “‘To see the nature of a spell that’s been magnified, altered, or both, gather final target, any intermediates and all magnifiers.’ Title’s good. Wonder what it means?”
“Final target is you, the magnifier is the mirror. Intermediate…that’s my picture. Me.”
“The mirror, you and me. Okay.” He went on reading. “‘The target must engage in the most powerful form of creative physical magic that mortals have available, in conjunction with any intermediates and magnifiers.’” He turned to her for clarification.
“Creative physical mortal magic…” She stared at him, blushing furiously. “It’s talking about
sex
.”
He could only gape at her. “Sex with the mirror?”
“Sex,
in front
of the mirror—between
you and me.
”
Hot desire shocked him, like water splashed on a sizzling griddle. He swallowed, hard. Him with a witch? Should’ve repelled him. Should have sent him howling from the room.
But sex with
Sophia
… He wanted it so badly he had to clench his hands to keep from reaching for her. He grew claws into his palms, the pain giving him the barest edge of control to hold his place.
It had to be her choice too.
Sophia stared into Noah’s hungry eyes. She’d tried to walk away but couldn’t. Those eyes, that face, that brave heart, they all tethered her, made it physically painful to leave.
Like a huge rubber band joined them, stretching tighter with every step apart.
She’d
wanted
to find proof it was safe for her to stay. And immediate danger trumped taboo. But this proof? Her belly flipped at the thought of sex with him. It was wild, head-on wickedly tempting. Her body clamored for this excuse to have him.
But it wouldn’t be right if he didn’t want it too.
She searched his face but couldn’t read his reaction. He was damned controlled when he wanted to be. Nope. No clue.
Until she saw a faint flush riding his high cheekbones. Clenched fingers in his lap. The barest shifting of his weight toward her, instantly checked.
He wanted her too.
She rejoiced. Then she despaired. What if the hex was fueling this? What if it was a bad hex, but they’d find out it was bad only
after
sex cemented their connection—because what she was feeling, what was in his eyes, tolled like a bell of forever.
But it might be good. Maybe she could
stay.
They wouldn’t know unless they did this.
His silver eyes burned mirror-bright. “So let me get this straight. You and me and sex.” His body tightened on the last word.
Even with his clothes on, she could see his pecs tense, hard mounds she wanted to pet. His biceps were smooth scoops that she wanted to lick. She throttled back a groan. Need coiled deep between her thighs, the kind of tightly wound desire that could quickly spring into something large and ravenous. “
Yes.
” She cleared her throat. “Yes.”
His nostrils flared, and he rose to his feet, giving her some much-needed space. She wondered what he smelled coming off her.
Then, to her shock, he smiled like a naughty boy. “I’m willing if you are.”
She groaned. Good thing he didn’t know the alluring power of that knowing-yet-boyish, eager-yet-patient, and definitely masculine smile. Her body flushed hot, prickled with anticipation. “It’s probably the hex. I can’t believe I’m considering it.”
The heat pushed her to her feet. She peeled out of her jacket, staring at the mirror, still uncovered from taking the picture. Sex with Noah, magic meeting magic.
Four years of being mundane—including mundane, conservative sex. She hadn’t missed any part of her magical side. Until now. Until him.
Dangerous, because she felt like she knew him when she didn’t. Dangerous because they were going too fast.
Most dangerous because she wanted it so badly.
“Talk to me, Sophia.”
Big hands wrapped around her arms. Her blazer dropped from her hand onto the edge of the carpet.
Noah turned her to face him.
Her camisole meant they were skin-to-skin. Not bankerly professional, but at that moment she appreciated the comfort of touch.
“Tell me what you need from me. Or talk to me and we’ll work it out.”
He wanted her too, but he wouldn’t push. The deadly beast was also a gentleman.
She pressed palms to his chest. Felt something chunky under his shirt in the valley of his pecs. Put off the decision a moment longer. “What’s this?” She poked the thing under his shirt. “I got a glimpse. It looked like a wolf.”
“My mother gave it to me when I was a boy.” He drew a leather thong from inside his shirt. Hanging from it was a black enameled wolf. “I wear it in her memory.”
“That’s sweet.” She brushed a finger over smooth cool metal and felt just the whisper of power. “You’re a caring man, aren’t you?”
One corner of his lips rose as he threaded the thong back into his shirt. “Don’t tell. It’ll ruin my big bad alpha reputation.”
She smiled back, her heart warming. “I like this,” she admitted. “You touching me. This is good, reassuring. Comforting.”
“Then I’ll keep doing it.” He folded her into his arms, her face pillowed on his taut pecs, her nose in the middle of all that smelled good. He kissed her hair, then rested his chin on her head. “It’s good for me too.” He paused. “Would it work?”
She sighed. “Yes. A tantric reveal would certainly tell us the truth. But…” She fell silent.
“There’s always a but, isn’t there?” He grinned down at her, unseen but felt in the change of the shape of his chin against the top of her head. “I’m ready. Hit me with it.”
“I’m worried the hex is rushing us into a bad decision. Not just a bad decision but an irreparable one. There’s a reason the Witches’ Council forbids a witch to have sex with a werewolf.”
“Ah.” The grin was gone.
She opened her mouth to protest that the results were unpredictable and mostly bad, ranging from spontaneous human combustion during intercourse to monstrous, power-hungry offspring.
Something—maybe her inexplicable feelings, maybe trying to let him down gently, maybe simply tired of justifying herself—stopped her. She only said, “I have to admit it feels right.”
He gave a soft sigh. “Then why don’t we try it? Sophia, between the two of us, what can’t we handle? What can’t we work out?”
“That’s the problem. We don’t know.”
“You’re right. We don’t know.” Noah turned her and held her at arms’ length. “And we won’t know until we try.” He released her and strode to the mirror, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.
So decisive. It made him one hell of an alpha.
He stood before the mirror, facing it. She realized he’d stopped exactly where he could see her face—because she could see his. That wasn’t the alpha staring back.
That was the man, staring hungrily at her.
“You’re so beautiful.” His eyes met hers, his blazing silver. “I knew that when your aunt showed me your picture, but meeting you, being with you…you’re beautiful clear through. When I saw you leaving me—it hurt, Sophia. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She blinked. “Are you okay? Your mouth is open but alien words are coming out.”
He laughed. “Better than okay. My mouth is open and the truth is coming out, and it’s set me free. The words were burning my brain. But I couldn’t say them. Me, attracted to a witch? Heresy, insanity!”
It was insane; it was the sweetest of music. She felt torn in two. “I think that hex has mutated on you, and not for the better. Together?”
“Always.”
At the word, she felt a surge of optimism. Maybe the two of them, together,
could
accomplish miracles. She went to him and positioned them with the mirror at her back and him in front of her. Placing fingertips on his chest, she took a deep breath, closed her physical eyes and opened her third eye.
Last time she’d passed out. This time she only wanted a glimpse of what kind of power they could generate.
In her Sight his eyes flashed a silver so hot it burned. Desire licked her from toes to crown. She gasped and staggered.
He seized her, wolf fast. She fell against him, and he pulled her tight. His body was scorching. Her heart slammed into overdrive.
Her physical eyes flew open. His molten silver gaze blazed directly into hers, melting her from the inside.
His hand slid down her hip, grabbed her bottom and squeezed. She moaned and rose the few millimeters to tiptoes. Her hips collided with his. He winched them together and she could feel his cock unfurling in intense interest.
He speared fingers into her hair and kissed her.
Her lips parted on a gasp. His tongue thrust inside, filling her with a wild, animal hunger underscored by his deep growl. His tongue swept her mouth, diving and lashing until thrills shivered down her throat and breasts.
Both his hands were on her backside now, caressing, cupping, massaging. Her hips shifted up and back, like a cat in heat. She tucked tail the instant she realized what she’d done.
He wasn’t having any of that. He tunneled fingers of one hand under the waistband of her skirt.
Directly onto her skin.
She sucked in a shocked breath. As if he expected it, was waiting for it, was
courting
it, he speared both hands under the loosened waistband and into her panties, sliding directly onto her buttocks. He groaned. “Damn, you’re creamy smooth. Can’t wait to taste you there.”
She parted her lips to respond. He thrust his tongue down her throat again. She moaned. His mouth opened aggressively, and his jaw worked as he tongued her even deeper.
Her fears disappeared in the fire of his claiming. She threaded her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Her heart pounded and her breath rasped, with excitement but also the waistband was too tight with both her and him in it. “I…I can’t breathe.”
“Sorry.” He murmured it against her lips. He withdrew one hand and she felt momentarily bereft. But there was a tugging and the waistband gave and she could breathe again—until his mouth reclaimed her with fierce heat. She was panting and breathless in an instant.
Skimming one hard palm over her backside, he maneuvered the other into the low neckline of her camisole. Her breastbone raised in response, as if her breasts were begging for his touch. He delved deeper and cupped one, his hand fitting it perfectly. She sighed and relaxed into that warm, perfect hand.
Then he gently tweaked her nipple. She squeaked.
He captured her squeak in the dark hot cave of his mouth. His tongue began to thrust in hot wild rhythm. His lips were fierce and his shifter’s stubble rasped her skin. He kissed her, pinched her, kneaded her,
overwhelmed
her.
Her muscles melted with desire, her skin was on fire. Her lips swelled and throbbed. Her nipples were tight as nuts. Her sex softened in anticipation, warm and damp and silky against her panties. Her pelvis churned with tense, growing need.
The opposing forces clashed and crossed, building bigger and bigger, waves of hunger that made her so hot and needy she shuddered with it.
He stopped. Spun her.
She confronted them in the mirror.
Her eyes were huge. Her pupils were dilated so wide that her eyes were almost black. Her lips were red and swollen. Hesitantly, she whispered, “Is it the hex doing this?”
“No. It’s
us
doing this.” He wrapped an arm around her ribs, his hand resting on the opposite hip. Holding her firmly he dove under her neckline again to cup her breast. In the mirror, the mound that was his hand began to squeeze gently, like a breathing animal.
“What are you—
ohh
.” She arched as he slotted her nipple through two fingers and pinched.
He slid his other hand into her skirt, his arm an esker running from her waistband to her panties, where his fingers tunneled onto her sex.
Thrust
into
her sex.
She whimpered. One big finger inside her, his thumb on her clitoris, he squeezed, gently, rhythmically, in time with the tugging on her breast. She was caught between his hands, hot-wired nodes zapping electricity through her. Her hips began to rock and a moan bubbled through her parted lips.
“You smell amazing.” He buried his lips into her neck, kissing the delicate skin. “A rosebud opening.”
Her trembling turned into delicious shudders.
“Sweet, on the cusp of heady. Lickable.” His warm, rough tongue lapped her neck, her collarbone.
She started purring like a cat, a tiny portion of her mind wondering insanely if he was turning her into a shifter. “But if the hex is trying to distract us…
Oh
.” She gasped as his probing finger hit her sweet spot. Lightning need streaked through her. “It
must
be the hex.”
“What?” He slipped a second finger into her, stretching her with warm wonder. He began rocking against her, their hips pressing together deliciously.
“
This
. So fast. Magically fast.” She let her head fall back against his chest, raising her chin to give him better access to the skin of her throat. Her brain squealed it was a sign of submission to an alpha wolf, but she only wanted his hot, talented mouth on more of her skin.
“And ‘this’ is…?” He ground his hips into her buttocks. His erection pressed huge.
She shuddered.
This
was hot, potent arousal.
This
was wildness. Abandoning planning, thinking, throwing out anything but hot reckless
feeling
. “I want you,” she whispered, delighting in his hot slick licks down her throat.
He revved a growl that came from the pits of his belly. “I’ve never heard words so beautiful.”
“But so hot…so fast…”
He nipped her neck with a growl. “It’s not the hex, it’s you and me. It’s us. Look, see what I’m doing to you. Acknowledge it, acknowledge
us
.” He drove his fingers deep inside her.