Sinful Magic: A Wing Slayer Novel by Jennifer Lyon

Author:Jennifer Lyon [Lyon, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Paranormal, Romance, Fantasy
ISBN: 9780345520081
Publisher: Random House Digital, Inc.
Published: 2011-05-31T04:00:00+00:00

Key slipped his hand from hers, with the water still spraying over his head; he opened it and then made a fist. She had healed him. Moments ago, he’d been empty, hurting and feeling exhausted and like a damned freak. Now her magic was swimming through him, her breasts pressed against his back, her pelvis against his ass. Her touch, her voice, her scent, it was all breaking through the gray, damp coldness that usually kept him numb. She was making him feel.

“Don’t move,” she said softly as she pulled back.

“Why?” He had no defense against her. Hadn’t she heard him out there? His life was a bad horror movie. Why was she here?

“Because it’s my turn.”

“To?” He heard her moving, heard the snap of a bottle cap opening, the soft thunk of setting it down.

“Wash you. Take care of you.” Her soapy hands came down on his shoulders.

Key dropped his head, feeling the slickness of the soap beneath the warmth of her hands. His cock was already rock hard from her magic, now it jerked and danced. Turn. Take her. Lift her up, thrust inside her, and make her yours.

Her hands worked over his shoulders, down his back, up his sides. “Arms up.”

He couldn’t fight this, didn’t know how. He raised both arms, pressed them to the cool shower wall. Her soapy hands went up, then around, sliding over his nipples. He shuddered, but even more powerful than her touch was the realization that she was seducing him. Giving him what he desperately needed. “Roxy … not here. I’m not going to take you in the shower of Phoenix’s gym.” She deserved more than that, he needed to give her more than that. Take her to a special place with privacy to let herself go, to moan, to scream if she wanted to. Not here where other witches, and hunters with super hearing, would inhibit her.

She deserved more. He wanted to give her more. But he needed her. As long as she touched him, the bloodlust stayed quiet.

Her hands went down. He opened his eyes, seeing her ivory hands against his stomach. Healing hands. Hands that tamed the dragon. Strong hands. She slicked back and forth, then changed direction again, rubbing her hands over his ass. Her fingers sliding deep to touch his balls.

“Oh God.” He spread his thighs apart and leaned his forehead against the tile. It was the sweetest torment, the feel of her hands on him, her breath feathering over his back, her hard nipples teasing his skin.

She got more soap. Then crouched, running her hands over one thigh, down to his foot, then back up his other thigh until she edged up and circled his balls with her wicked fingers.

She stopped, rising behind him. He heard that lid of the soap bottle pop again. Was she going to touch him more? He wanted to ask. Okay, beg. But he didn’t. He endured. He didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe, waiting …

Enduring.

Shit. This was wrong. He should be taking care of her.

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