Her fingers flew over the clasp of her jeans before she shimmied them down her legs. Ciar steadied her as she kicked them off. He laid her down on the grass and she shivered until he joined her.
He was quick to strip away his remaining clothes before covering her with his body.
“Just how private is this garden?” he asked, nuzzling her throat.
She snapped her fingers, a privacy spell locking into place around them. “No one will hear us,” she assured him. “And an alarm will trigger if anyone comes near.”
He drew back enough for her to see his eyes. “There’s a spell I can understand the use for.”
She grinned as he kissed her once more. Ciar cupped her breasts, flicking thumbs over her hardened nipples. Mikayla moaned against his lips. She undulated against him, parting her legs to lodge him more firmly between them.
He was perfect on top of her. Even if he disappeared from her life forever, she’d never forget the way their bodies fit together just right.
She pressed her lips against his collarbone in a light touch. With one hand she found his cock and wrapped her fingers around him. Ciar’s groan was guttural as she stroked him, rubbing him against her wet slit. She couldn’t imagine seeing him and not feeling this consuming, pressing need. She wanted him inside her. Now.
His mouth closed over one nipple and she arched from the ground. Even knowing her spell should be strong, she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Ciar played with her with expert touches. He knew exactly how to touch her, when to be gentle and when to tease her with a light scrape of his teeth. She stared blindly up at the night sky and knew this was a man she wanted to be able to touch for the rest of her life.
“I need you,” he growled against her skin.
She nodded her agreement, wiggling against his cock.
His hands dropped to her waist. One finger teased along her folds, delving into her.
“You’re so wet,” he breathed.
“You have that effect.”
He smiled against her breast. “Good.”
With a last playful touch he withdrew his hand and fitted his cock against her opening.
Mikayla spread her legs eagerly. “Now,” she pleaded.
Gripping her hips, Ciar surged into her.
This time there was no stopping the cry he wrung from her. Ciar withdrew to the tip before thrusting into her again. Mikayla arched under him, ready to meet each stroke. Wrapping her arms around him she moved to his rhythm.
His hot breath burned against her throat as he sank into her. Mikayla bent her legs to pull him deeper, groaning at the sensation. She tightened her inner muscles on him and heard his growl of pleasure.
“Again,” he ordered against her ear.
She was more than happy to comply. They moved together in synchronized motion, as if each could predict how the other would move. She wrapped her arms around him as he drove into her, each thrust taking her higher.
Mikayla wanted to beg for more, wanted to tell him how close she was but there were no words. Nothing mattered but the rocking of their bodies.
So close, she thought, her teeth scraping against his shoulder. More, more, more.
With a last strong thrust she shattered. Mikayla’s cry rang through the night as her orgasm crashed over her. She heard his answering roar, felt his body stiffen above her. The sight of him, his head thrown back in pleasure, was seared into her memory.
He collapsed on top of her, breathing hard. She wanted to speak but her body was still riding the aftermath. All the tension, the worry she’d been carrying around washed away. Now her body was languid and relaxed. She’d had no idea what she was missing.
“You are incredible,” Ciar said, dropping a kiss on her naked shoulder.
She turned to meet his black-eyed gaze. “We’re incredible.”
A soft smile curved his lips.
Mikayla twisted to her side to face him. She trailed one finger along his lips. “Don’t you see that? We’re incredible. Together.”
His gaze met hers and he didn’t deny the words—she was acutely aware that he didn’t confirm them either.
“Why do you hate my kind?” she whispered. It wasn’t the question she’d meant to ask. She’d wanted to bathe in the peaceful glow of their embrace a little while longer. But now the words were said and she couldn’t go back.
Instead of the anger she’d expected, pain washed over his face. “Teivel died a few weeks before I moved into town.”
She frowned, wondering what that had to do with his disgust of her kind.
“He was a strong warrior, my brother. No demon could challenge him. So one of his enemies hired an outsider to do the job.”
Her breath froze in her chest.
“Witches killed my brother.”
The words were said simply, without any damning anger, but she knew what they meant. Knew the final nail in her coffin when she saw it. They had no chance. In the heat of the moment she might have been able to pretend they belonged together, but if witches had killed his brother it was a crime he’d never forgive. One of her people had done something terrible to one of his. He had a good reason to loathe what she was.