Chapter 14
Colt
To be fair, this is my first time visiting Romania, but it sure as hell isn’t my first time drinking Romanian alcohol. I’ve tried ?uic?, p?linc?, even vi?inat?, but none of them come anywhere close to whatever kind of wine Amara just handed me.
The room tilts beneath me, and this time it has nothing to do with the bullet wound or the beating I took. It’s her.
For one tiny, microscopic second, I actually wonder whether this is a terrible idea. Then again, she was trying to kill me a few hours ago, and now she’s sitting on my lap like she’s changed careers. Progress, I guess.
Still…
Is she going to murder me after this?
Mike never mentioned that part of the legend. You’d think “sleep with the forest witch and end up dead” would be the kind of detail worth bringing up over a beer. Unless… The asshole knows and deliberately left it out.
“Drink,” she murmurs, her voice carrying that same impossibly refined cadence, every word spoken with the effortless precision of someone who has spent centuries perfecting the language. “You will find this considerably more pleasant if you cease questioning everything.”
She breaks the kiss just long enough to lift the old bottle to my lips.
I open my mouth to tell her I’ve had enough, but she’s faster than both my reflexes and my common sense. The cool glass brushes against my lower lip before she tilts the bottle, letting the sweet wine spill onto my tongue.
Jesus.
That’s incredible.
For one completely irrational moment, I almost wish Mike were here to try it. Not… right now. After we’re done, obviously.
As I try to shake my head and let her know I’ve had enough, the bottle follows me anyway. A ribbon of dark wine slips past my lips instead, trailing down my chin before slowly winding its way across my bare chest.
“Oh, dear.” The words leave her lips with the calm composure of someone commenting on a misplaced teacup rather than the fact she’s currently sitting in my lap. “It would appear I have been… careless.”
A quiet sigh escapes her.
Without another word, she lowers herself toward me, her lips finding the trail of wine as though recovering every wasted drop were the most natural thing in the world.
She moves with unhurried purpose, her tongue tracing the path the wine left behind, starting beneath my jaw before traveling down the side of my neck.
She follows every crimson drop across my chest, then lower still, tasting it from the ridges of my stomach as though she’s savoring the finest meal she’s had in centuries.
Honestly…
I don’t mind that one bit.
“Fuck…” The word slips out before I can stop it, low and strained.
I try to keep myself under control, but she’s making that increasingly difficult. Because, honestly… I’d really rather not get murdered with a hard-on.
“My, what a dreadful waste.” Her eyes drift to my lap. “It appears some of the wine found its way onto your trousers. Allow me to remedy that.”
Before I can decide whether agreeing with an immortal forest witch is the smartest or stupidest decision of my life, her fingers settle on my belt. She pauses for just a heartbeat, as though giving me every opportunity to stop her.
I don’t. Dooh!
Partly because I have absolutely no interest in finding out what happens when I tell an ancient witch no. Mostly because… have you seen her?
Who in their right mind would say no to a woman as breathtaking as she is?
The belt slides free in seconds, but instead of tossing it aside, she casually loops it around my neck and gives it the gentlest tug.
Well…
That’s new.
Pixie has me on a fucking leash.
Hell yeah!
“Try not to move too much,” she says as she eases my jeans down my legs.
Goddammit.
Of all the boxers I own, I had to wear the candy ones today.
I own perfectly normal black boxers. I own gray ones.
I even own a pair with tiny motorcycles on them.
But no. The universe looked at me, looked at the hottest woman I’ve ever met, and decided this was the exact moment I should be standing there in underwear covered with gummy bears, lollipops, and enough sugar to stock a convenience store.
Fantastic.
Nothing destroys your mysterious, badass image quite like getting undressed in front of a gorgeous woman while dressed like the clearance aisle at a candy shop.
Her gaze drops to my boxers.
Then to me.
Then back to the boxers.
Slowly, the corners of her mouth curl into the most delightfully wicked smile I’ve ever seen on a woman.
I have a feeling the candy underwear just made me significantly more interesting.
“To be quite honest with you,” she whispers, lowering herself onto her knees in front of me, “it has been a very long time since I last enjoyed something sweet.”
She gently nudges my knees farther apart, creating just enough room between them.
Well… I’m beginning to suspect she isn’t talking about the candy.
I grin at her, seriously considering whether telling her I’ve got a candy cane with her name on it is worth the risk.
I decide it probably isn’t.
As funny as that line would be, I’d also quite like to survive the next five minutes.
“Fuck… shit!”
The instant she wraps those beautiful lips around my cock, my entire world ceases to exist. Not literally. Although, if this is what dying feels like, I suddenly understand why nobody comes back to complain about it.
Her tongue traces over the metal before she suddenly pulls back.
“What in the world is this?” she asks, staring at my Jacob’s ladder as though she’s discovered a previously unknown species.
Then she looks up at me, genuine confusion written across her face.
“…Are you human?”
A laugh slips out before I can stop it.
“Last time I checked.” I grin down at her. “Although I’ve never had a gorgeous woman inspect my dick like it’s an archaeological discovery before, so maybe I missed a memo.”
She continues studying it with intense concentration, tilting her head first one way, then the other, as though examining a particularly fascinating artifact.
“What?” I chuckle. “First time seeing a dick?”
She looks up at me with the sort of expression that clearly says you are dumb as fuck.
“Do cease asking such profoundly idiotic questions.”
“So that’s a no?”
“Naturally, it is a no.” She returns her attention to my cock, her expression thoughtful. “I have known many men throughout the centuries.”
“Ouch.”
“However…” Her eyes narrow ever so slightly. “None of them were… quite so generously endowed.”
I blink.
“…Seriously?”
She nods once, as though stating an indisputable fact.
“And I certainly cannot recall one who felt compelled to adorn himself with decorative metal.”
Her fingertips hover near my Jacob’s ladder again, genuine curiosity replacing amusement.
“You are, without question, a most peculiar man.”
“Thanks… I guess.”
“Very well,” she says, her voice perfectly composed. “Shall we return to our task?”
Without another word, she wraps her lips around my cock again.
Her copper hair bounces with every slow movement of her head as she takes me deeper and deeper, determined to fit as much of me as she can, even when it makes her choke.
“Fuck… girl,” I groan, my head falling back. “You’re gonna make me cum.”
She pulls back just enough for our eyes to meet. Then, without looking away, she hums around my cock.
“Jesus fucking Christ…”
For a witch who probably hasn’t touched a man in centuries, she sucks cock like she’s spent a lifetime mastering the art.
The corners of her mouth glisten with spit, her eyes shine with unshed tears, and before I even realize what I’m doing, my hand is buried in her copper hair.
“Fuck…”
My fingers tighten instinctively as I guide her lower, my hips betraying every coherent thought left in my brain.
“That’s right…” I moan, completely losing myself. “Such a good girl.”
The words leave my mouth on instinct.
“Such a good little brat. Swallow everything.”
Everything inside me snaps at once as I fill her throat with cum.
I keep her there, still pressing my cock into her mouth, making damn sure she doesn’t miss a single drop of me.
When I expect her to pull away, she doesn’t. Instead, her head starts moving again. Slowly.
Her tongue traces over my piercings, and the oversensitivity after my orgasm sends a violent shiver through my entire body.
“Easy there…” I mutter, every nerve ending suddenly on fire. “Jesus…”
The head of my cock is so damn sensitive now that every movement makes my skin prickle.
“I… kinda need a little break,” I manage, trying to catch my breath.
She merely looks up at me.
Then her left hand closes around the end of the belt still hanging around my neck, and she pulls—hard.
The leather bites into my throat, cutting off my breath just enough to make me cough as my free hand instinctively grabs the belt, trying to create even the smallest bit of slack.
“Perhaps,” she says with infuriating calm, “but I find that I have no desire for a reprieve.”
She gives the belt another sharp tug while her tongue never once abandons its task.
How the fuck am I still hard?
Seriously.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some kind of medical miracle, but I literally just fucking came. The little bastard usually clocks out for at least five minutes.
Today, apparently, he has decided to ignore company policy.