Chapter Sixteen-Evie #2
“What now?” he asked, voice low and thick.
Gravel dipped in honey.
He was giving me the choice. Putting the power in my hands.
And, Gaia help me, I wanted to use it.
“Now?” I licked my lips slowly, watching his jaw twitch. “I was hoping you knew, Wolfman.”
I let my fingers trail to the top button of my dress.
His nostrils flared.
The sound that came from him was pure, unfiltered need.
A rumble, deep in his chest, vibrating with restrained hunger.
I popped the first button.
Then the second.
And the third.
No magic.
No shortcuts.
This wasn’t about spells or potions.
It was about heat and trust and finally letting myself want.
By the time I reached the last button, the dress fluttered open, exposing my flushed skin and soft curves to the cool kitchen air—and to him.
Jaxson’s pupils blew wide.
His eyes darkened to storm steel and locked on my bare body like it was the only thing in the universe.
He crossed the room in two strides and stopped just short of touching me.
“Evie,” he rasped, voice nearly undone.
I rose to my tiptoes and leaned in, letting my breasts graze his chest through his shirt.
“Yes, Wolfman?”
“You’re playing with fire.”
“Good thing I’m a Witch,” I whispered, tugging his shirt from his jeans. “I know how to handle it.”
He growled—low, dangerous, and so arousing my knees nearly gave out.
Then he was on me.
His mouth claimed mine in a kiss that could’ve summoned thunderstorms.
His hands were everywhere—on my back, my hips, sliding under the fabric, lifting me like I weighed nothing.
I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me to the table and laid me down like I was precious, his lips never leaving mine.
The wood was cool against my skin.
His hands were molten.
“Tell me to stop,” he said against my throat, voice breaking.
“Don’t you dare.”
The delicious rumble coming from his chest sent spirals of pleasure straight to my girly bits.
Jaxson’s eyes were back to that deep steel color that told me he was aroused.
If that wasn’t evidence, then the bulge in his tight blue jeans sure as fuck was.
Looked like my Wolf was big and bad after all. Thank Gaia.
And with a flash of teeth and a groan of relief, he feasted.
Every touch.
Every kiss.
Every nip and lick felt like worship, like I was some holy offering laid out for his devotion.
He whispered things against my skin—praises, curses, promises—and I drank them in like a dying woman handed champagne.
I didn’t care what he said, not really. It was the way he said it.
The heat. The reverence. The fucking hunger.
This wasn’t just sex.
It was a phenomenal inevitability, our coming together.
A calling, if you will.
A storm made of heat and magic and the wild, delicious truth of who we were and what we were becoming.
I gasped as his hands gripped the sides of my panties—what few scraps there were—and ripped them clean off me.
Riippp. Loud and unapologetic.
Like a goddamn declaration.
“Oh, Darlin’,” he drawled, rough and reverent, “look at you. So pretty and pink. You’re glistening for me.”
Oh. My. Goddess.
I burned under his gaze—part shame, mostly pride.
Because his eyes weren’t mocking.
They were worshipping.
Like he’d discovered his personal holy grail and couldn’t wait to dive in.
He growled again—my name this time—and dropped to his knees like a sinner about to get blessed.
And then he kissed me.
Right there.
On my slick, aching, ready-for-him center.
My whole body jolted like he’d plugged me into a magical generator.
His mouth was hot. His tongue was sin incarnate.
Long and wicked, it licked a slow, maddening stripe from the base of me all the way to the top, then circled my clit with a teasing flick that had me seeing actual stars.
I wasn’t being poetic.
I literally gasped and saw a flash of silver behind my eyes.
“Jaxson!” I choked, voice strangled.
The man didn’t answer.
He just doubled down.
He went to work, tongue fucking me like it was. His lips sucked my clit.
He made out with my pussy like he was trying to imprint his name on my soul through sheer oral devotion.
And that damn growl in his chest? Vibrated against me in the most glorious way.
I arched, fisted his thick, dark hair, and tried to hold on to something.
Sanity. My name. A single coherent thought.
Nope. All gone.
Because I wasn’t Evelyn Castor anymore. I wasn’t the mayor. I wasn’t the Witch who wrangled familiars, storms, and council meetings like a pro.
I was just a woman—desperate and moaning and trembling on her kitchen table while a ridiculously sexy Werewolf treated my body like a fucking delicacy.
“Fuck,” I sobbed, thighs shaking, hands clutching at his shoulders like lifelines. “You’re—oh Goddess—Jaxson!”
He moaned my name against me, and that was it.
I shattered.
Came so hard I thought I left my body.
My hips bucked, my toes curled, and I screamed into the universe.
His name.
Over and over again.
The orgasm rolled through me like a tidal wave, washing away all doubt, fear, and resistance.
Just gone.
It was just me, him, and the slow swirl of power crackling between our bodies.
Magic sparked in the air—tiny, glittering flecks of light that floated up toward the ceiling like fireflies.
When I finally opened my eyes, Jaxson was watching me with a soft, satisfied smile—and glistening lips.
“Holy fuck,” I whispered. “What was that?”
He licked his bottom lip, slow and sinful.
“That, Darlin’? That was just dessert.”
I groaned and dropped my head back against the table.
“I’m in trouble.”
He leaned over me, his voice a rumble in my ear.
“You think that was trouble? ‘Cause I plan to ruin you next, Madam Mayor.”
Please let him be serious.
Goddess knows I wanted it.
Every second of it. Of this.
Him.
Me.
Us.
Together.
Finally.