Magical Mistakes(12)

When the smoke parted, he looked at Mikayla with a man’s eyes, not a poodle’s.

The witch’s mouth hung open as she watched him. With a small squeak she grabbed a pillow and pulled it before her body as a shield.

Too late, he thought. The sight of her was already branded on his mind.

“Why am I back to normal?” he demanded. “And why do you keep stripping in front of me?”

“It was a test.” Though her chin lifted, Ciar noticed the telltale blush creeping up her cheeks. The sight was endearing.

Raising an eyebrow, Ciar lifted his gaze to hers. “Of what exactly? My ability to see half-naked women?”

The blush deepened.

“I wanted to test a theory. We thought attraction might be key to breaking the spell,” she explained.

His eyes narrowed before he rose to his knees and crawled toward her. “Attraction?” he purred. Wasn’t that an interesting turn of events.

“I’d say it’s probably safe to conclude when you are attracted to someone, you change back to normal.” She scooted back until she hit the headboard. “Now since we have that settled, I’ll go put something more suitable on.”

Ciar caught her arm before she could flee the bed. “If attraction is the key to me staying in this form,” he told her, “then we should probably try to prolong the feeling. Right?” His cock jumped in agreement. Oh yes, he was more than ready to play.

Mikayla swallowed as she glanced back at him. “But before…”

Ciar slid closer, reaching out to draw one finger down her smooth cheek. “Before?” he breathed.

Shadows swept over her eyes for the briefest moment, gone so fast he wondered if he’d imagined them. “Yeah,” she said instead, her smile turning sexy, her actions growing more confident. “Let’s see how long we can keep you this way. I have quite a large number of fantasies you can only act out sans paws.”

“Is that so?”

“Come see for yourself,” she offered.

He wasn’t a man who had to be told twice. Leaning forward, he captured her lips with his.

Mikayla twined her arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer. Ciar growled as the pillow she clutched kept him from crushing her against his chest.

Grabbing the offending cushion, he threw it from the bed. Mikayla didn’t protest.

He groaned against her lips as her scantily clad body pressed along his. Her skin was as smooth as silk beneath his fingertips. Perfect. She was so bloody perfect.

Breaking away from her mouth, he drew his lips down her long throat. Ciar lapped his tongue over her pounding pulse. Oh yes, his witch liked what he was doing to her.

She shifted and he slipped more comfortably between her legs. Ciar rolled his hips, pressing his erection against her to prove just how badly he wanted her naked and spread beneath him.

Her gasp was music to his ears.

Running his fingers up her sides, he touched the lacy bra covering the flesh he most wanted to explore.

“Off,” he growled against her skin.

She snapped her fingers. The bra vanished as if it’d never been.

Magic washed over his skin but for the first time, he didn’t cringe when he felt it. How could he, when it revealed such a beautiful sight?

Ciar reared back to look down at Mikayla. She lay sprawled beneath him, her brown hair tangled around her face and her skin flushed. His gaze fell to her breasts and he couldn’t help cupping them in his large hands. Her lips parted in a sigh of pleasure. With a smile, Ciar lowered his head to the perfect handfuls. He teased one pert nipple with his tongue before drawing it into his mouth.

She drove her fingers into his hair, releasing the black tie holding it in place. He lifted his head as his hair tumbled around his shoulders. Rarely did he look so disheveled, but Mikayla seemed to enjoy the view.

The lust in her eyes called to him but he stilled at the tenderness no amount of need could mask. A chill ran through his body at the sight. That was what he’d wanted to avoid, why he hadn’t ever made a move on her. She couldn’t look at him like that. It would only lead to trouble.

“Stop,” he breathed before he could call the word back.

She frowned.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He brushed his lips over hers to soften the words.

“Like what?”

“Like I matter to you.”

She closed her eyes, a siren’s smile on her lips. “Of course you matter.”

The words stabbed into him. He shouldn’t want to hear them, shouldn’t enjoy the burst of pleasure they inspired. She was a witch, he a demon. This could never be more than sex. If he was any kind of decent man he had to make her understand. He wasn’t good for her.

“You’re making a mistake with me.”