Ghost of an Enchantment by J. E. McDonald

Author:J. E. McDonald
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-64898-035-0
Publisher: City Owl Press

Loki vaulted from Stella’s dresser and shot out the door as soon as they entered her bedroom. When Lucas set her on her feet at the foot of her bed, her body slid along his on the way down. Her abdomen clenched in anticipation. When a margin of space came between them, she let go of the towel, only her silent necklace left to adorn her.

She watched his face, the way his lips parted, the way his eyes became hooded. His fingers tightened on her shoulders. Her body trembled as his gaze roamed over her face, her damp body, and she heated, the ache intensifying between her legs.

Stepping closer so there was no space between them, the fabric of his shirt brushed against her nipples. With her naked and him fully clothed, there was still way too much fabric separating them.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his fingers gripping her elbows gently.

“Touch me,” she answered. “Touch me everywhere. Rub against me.” She needed more contact to banish whatever had touched her when she’d opened herself to the spell. She needed friction and heat. She needed Lucas.

As soon as his fingers brushed her spine, her skin exploded in sensation, tingles stretching through her body in every direction. She gasped. Lust consumed her until she couldn’t think of anything else.

More. She pawed at the fly to his jeans, unable to open them. He took over, unzipped his jeans, and slid them down his hips before stepping out of them.

When he stood before her in black boxer briefs, she pulled at his T-shirt, wanting it off, wanting more skin, wanting to touch him. He whipped it over his head and threw it to the floor.

There. Much better.

Warm skin met her fingers as she explored the defined ridges of his chest and abdomen with her shaky hands, the muscles twitching beneath her fingers. Up over his shoulders, down his arms, up his back, her hands didn’t stop, her movements becoming frantic.

His hands captured hers the next time they passed over his chest. With her hands trapped between them, he lowered his head, and brushed his lips against hers. She lost her breath at the tender touch. It was like he was trying to savor her. So gentle. It was killing her and she nearly whimpered.

When his lips passed over hers again, tickling, she bit him.

He reared back, his frown back in place.

“More,” she whispered. With her hand behind his neck, she pulled him down for more, showing him what she needed, tongues laving, lips suckling, teeth scraping—she needed it all.

On a groan, he pulled her against him, their bodies colliding. Yes! His hand gripped her bare bottom, fusing them together. Nipples brushed skin and the ache between her legs grew. She skimmed her knee against his hip, her legs opening to cradle his erection through his underwear. God, it felt good. She needed more of that, more friction, more grounding.

Hand holding her steady under her thigh, he kept kissing her. But every time she tried to amp up their energy level, he backed it off.

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