Naya’s eyes were slow to track as her gaze traveled down the length of her arm. She let out a low, seductive laugh that tightened Ronan’s balls, and he damn near ached with the need to take her. “It’s the magic,” she replied. “It can manifest during sex under the right circumstances. Sort of feels like rolling around naked in feathers.” A contented smile rounded out her dreamy expression. “A-ma-zing.”
And it apparently made her high as a fucking kite.
“Has this ever happened before?” Ronan forced the words from between clenched teeth. The thought of her reaching this euphoric state with another male encouraged a murderous thought or twelve.
“Never tried it before.” She blinked slowly as her fingers caressed his forearm. Through their tether Ronan had gotten a taste of Naya’s magic, and it was like a shot of electricity to his nervous system with a Molly chaser. The female was a drug to him. And he couldn’t help but feel a little smug that he’d had the same effect on her.
There were merits to being tethered to a witch, it seemed.
Later there’d be time for erotic play. And though it pained Ronan to part from her, to leave the heat of her body behind, there was still a lot to do before the sun rose. The gap still remained in his memory, Chelle was still out there somewhere, Set’s chest was unaccounted for, and he needed to help Naya neutralize whatever threat ran rampant through the town.
Not to mention the small issue of her arranged pairing to another male and Ronan’s blood troth to another female.
“Can you focus, Naya?” They were quite a pair. He’d been given a reprieve from the effects of infectious magic only to turn and intoxicate her to the point of giddy uselessness. How did you go about sobering someone up from a magical high, anyway?
He released his grip on her wrists. She reached up and traced his bottom lip with the petal-soft pad of her thumb. He’d sealed his troth to Siobhan with blood, and if he took Naya now the blood would boil in his veins, stealing any future he might have with this remarkable female. His cock throbbed with unspent seed, and the urge to throw good sense to the wayside and fuck her here and now was a temptation Ronan wasn’t sure he could fight. He’d risk death and the heat that sizzled through him for one opportunity to sink into her slick heat.
The rose glow on her skin sparkled in the low light. Moonbeams and sunset. He let out a low curse under his breath. Siobhan had fucked him over with her games and demands. His only option at this point was to deny himself the one thing in this fucking world that he wanted or be burned alive from the inside out.
Gods, since when had his life become a Shakespearian tragedy?
“We need to get you five by five, Naya.” As if she were the only one of them who didn’t have a grip. “What’s it going to take to get you square?”
Already her eyes appeared clearer and the soft glow of her skin had begun to dull. Naya pushed herself up to stand and Ronan followed, helping to steady her as she swayed on her feet. “I’ll be okay in a minute.” She let out a slow gust of breath. “I just need to meditate. Center my power and I’ll be fine.”
Sounded simple enough. “What can I do to help?”
She gave him a weak smile. “Just keep your distance. I’m still too wired for you to be so close.”
He knew how she felt. Her proximity, coupled with the blood he’d taken from her vein, only made him want her more. A dry, gravelly scratch irritated his throat, though he’d taken more than enough of her blood to slake his thirst. After what had just happened between them, how could she possibly deny their bond? Surely Naya recognized their tether now. Ronan couldn’t help but wonder if the realization would help to build a stronger foundation for a relationship with her or send her running in the opposite direction.
Ronan gave Naya the space she’d asked for and crossed over to the living room. She braced her arms on the countertop of the bar separating the kitchen from the dining area and let her head fall between her shoulders. Her breathing, slow and even, matched the beat of her heart, and Ronan let his own eyes drift shut as he allowed the gentle sound to lull him into a state of relaxation.
Gods, so much had been piled on his plate. How could he possibly handle it all?
“Ronan?”
He opened his eyes to find Naya standing beside him. Her skin was once again creamy brown and her gaze zeroed in on him, sharp and clear. The once dreamy expression had been replaced with a no-nonsense severity that caused his heart to ache. Though he knew she’d needed the clarity and self-control, he missed that lust-addled, reckless side of her.
“Ready to roll?” He tried not to think about how badly he wanted her. Or about what the consequences of taking what he wanted would be. Instead, he turned his attention to something he could control: finding Chelle and delivering a violent death to the bastards who’d taken her.