Witch Heart

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Her breath rushed out of her at the slow, erotic drag of his mouth across hers.

Adam didn't kiss her, not at first, he just rubbed his lips compellingly against hers. Slow. Thoroughly. Like he was about to devour her, but was biding his time. Tasting. Savoring.

Making her crazy.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt at the shoulders and she held on for dear life as his sensual assault on her mouth continued. His kiss alone promised wonder in bed. Her breath hitched a little in her throat. Then he slanted his mouth across hers and really kissed her.

Claire's toes curled in her shoes.

His teeth raked her bottom lip and her lips parted for him. She allowed her tongue to softly brush his, but the slight touch seemed to make him crazy. Adam crushed her to him and kissed her deeper, until his kiss drove all thought from her mind.

He slipped his hand beneath the hem of her shirt and massaged the small of her back with one strong hand, then brought it up to finger the clasp of her bra.

He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. "I want you, Claire."

"For the last few days, I thought I'd done something to repulse you." Her voice held a quaver.

He laughed, a raw, gravelly sound. "Like I said, I'm too attracted to you. That's the problem."

"I don't see any problem. I'm attracted to you, you to me. We've got time to kill. We're both of consenting age. I've gotten over my fears that Rue will rip your head from your neck. Where's the problem?"

"You don't care if my head is ripped from my neck?"

She pretended to think. "Well, maybe a little. You wouldn't be able to give me those incredible kisses if you had no head."

He chuckled a little and then stared down at her for a long moment, his face shadowed in the half light. "Let's go back to the house. I think we have some unfinished business."

By the time they got back, the house was dark save for the spill of light under Theo's bedroom door. Adam had taken her by the wrist as soon as they'd cleared the front steps and she practically had to jog to keep up with his steady progress toward their room. If Theo had been standing in their way, Adam probably would have just run him down.

Once inside the room, he bustled her past the mattress on the floor to his bed. He flipped on the bedside light as soon as they got there.

She flipped it off.

He flipped it on again.

When she went to turn it off once more, he reached out and caught her hand, kissing her fingertips. "Uh, uh," he murmured. "I want to see you, every beautiful inch."

Her cheeks heated, but contentment flared through her.

He knelt on the floor between her spread legs and pushed the hem of her shirt upward, kissing over her stomach as he went. Finally, her shirt was gone and he drew a sharp breath.

She was clad in only her bra, a pretty pink lace one that she'd bought on their shopping expedition the first day. It pushed her breasts upward and showed her nipples through the filmy fabric. She'd purchased it because she'd never in her life owned something so feminine.

Adam looked like he wanted to gnaw it off her.

He drew his finger over the plump swell of one breast, then brushed his knuckles over her nipple through the fabric. She shuddered in pleasure and her nipple instantly pebbled. Farther down, her sex reacted.

"Pretty," he murmured, then lifted a brow. "Wonder what else is?" He dropped his hands to the button and zipper of her jeans and made quick work of them. When he slid her pants down and off her, along with her shoes and socks, he found the matching panties.

He made quick work of those, too.

She gasped in surprise when he spread her thighs and the cool air of the room bathed her sex.

"So fucking pretty," he murmured, staring down at her. He held her spread with a hand to each thigh. Then he leaned in and breathed over her.

She trembled with pleasure, her hands fisting in the blankets on either side of her. He rose then and kissed her. At the same time, he pushed her onto her back with the pressure of his mouth. His clothing rubbed roughly against her bare skin, sending shivers through her.

There was something very erotic about being nude while he was clothed, but that didn't change the fact she wanted him naked. She pulled at his shirt.

"Let me touch you, look at you," he murmured against her mouth. "We have time. There's no rush. Let me savor you."

His hand planed her thigh slowly, spreading her once more for him. He kissed his way down her body, over her collarbone, then over the swell of her breasts still in the pretty pink bra. He ran the tip of his tongue down her solar plexus, dipped it into her belly button, dragged it over the swell of her stomach.

Finally he pinned her thighs to the bed with his two broad, strong hands and kissed her between them.

"Adam!" she gasped, her body jerking off the mattress in a combination of acute arousal and utter shock.

He raised his head. His eyes were heavy lidded with lust. "What's wrong?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going down on you, Claire. I wanted to see if you taste as sweet as you look, and you do. Better. I want more."

His voice was a silken snare, roughened velvet. His own passion rolled off him in intoxicating waves.

Houses, she hadn't been wrong when she'd thought he looked ready to devour her.

"Don't tell me Ty never did this to you."

She shook her head, cheeks heating. Claire didn't think daaeman did this at all. It was like what Adam had done to her in her erotic dream.

"Lie back, Claire. Relax. Let me enjoy you." He yanked her down an inch, forcing her to recline. With a firm grip on her thighs, he kept her spread and open to his devilish lips and tongue. If she had wanted to move, which she didn't, she wasn't sure she'd be able to. She was essentially at his mercy… and it excited her.

His lips worked over her, weaving an intimate dark magick that she'd never before experienced. He nibbled on her labia, drawing them between his lips. He slid his tongue against her clit, which had fully plumped out from its hood, pouting for attention.

Adam gave it what it wanted. Over and over. Harder and faster.

She grasped fistfuls of blanket and hung on as he sucked it between his lips and caressed it with his tongue. Just the sight of his blond head between her thighs was erotic enough to push her fast to the edge of an orgasm.

He slid a finger deep inside her sex, thrust a few times and then added another, stretching her sex in a deliciously pleasurable way. She let out a low moan.

"Does that feel good, baby?" he asked softly.

"Yes."

"I can't wait until I can slide my cock in there."

Her climax shattered over her, stealing her breath and her thought. Her back arched from the bed, but he remained latched to her, riding her through an intense pleasure that swamped her body and mind.

When it was over, he loomed over her, looking more feral than she'd ever seen him — every muscle in his body tense. His hand was on the button of his jeans and his gaze, which had gone dark and intent with arousal, focused on her face and held there. Then he hesitated and swore low and long under his breath. He punched the mattress beside her and then rolled away to sit on the edge of the bed, head in his hands.

Alarmed, Claire sat up. "Adam?" She touched his shoulder.

After a moment, he stood and pulled his shirt off. The muscles of his back rippled with the movement. "Sleep with me tonight, Claire. In my bed."

It wasn't the first time she'd seen him shirtless, but it made her mouth dry nevertheless. He was leanly built, not overly muscular, but just enough muscle to make you think he'd win any fistfight and would probably fight dirty to do it.

"That was the general plan," she answered in a shaky voice, drawing her knees together.

He took the rest of his clothes off, save the black boxer briefs that outlined the curve of his rear and the jut of his long, wide cock. Adam was still aroused, she could see it clearly. Her fingers itched to touch him, stroke that long, hard length.

Adam snapped off the light. He put her under his blankets, her back flush up against his chest and his arms around her. A satisfied sigh escaped her at the strength of his embrace, the scent of his skin close to hers, and the feel of his groin against her bare buttocks. "But Adam—"

"Shhhh… This is called spooning. It's something we aeamon and humans do. Do you like it?"

"Yes, very much."

He kissed the shell of her ear. "I wanted to feel you, skin to skin. I wanted your warmth tonight. Is that okay?"

"Yes, but you never—"

"I'm just fine," he murmured. "Better than I've been in a long while and that pisses me off a little, that's all. Get some sleep, Claire. Tomorrow the other witches will get here and this place will melt into chaos."

Despite herself, the warmth of his body, the low rumbling sound of his voice and her own fatigue were too much for her to fight. Her eyelids drooped and she relaxed into sleep within the circle of his protective arms.

The sweet flavor of her sttll lay on

tongue. It was just an appetizer and he wanted the full course.

She'd come so sweetly for him, just the way he'd imagined she would.

Adam had come close to dropping his jeans right there and sliding his rigid cock into the hot velvet clasp of her sex. He still couldn't believe that he hadn't done it. She'd been there, beautiful, wanting him, her sex willing and spread for him… and he'd resisted.

Sex with Claire still felt like it would make him unfaithful.

He couldn't put a finger on why Claire was different, but she was. His feelings for her on all levels were intense. As intense, maybe even more so, than they'd been for Eliza. And that was just wrong. There could never be another Eliza.

Adam had to wait until this strange, intense attraction he had for Claire faded. He just hoped it faded before he exploded from sexual need. Jacking off in the shower was becoming very unsatisfying.

Once that intenseness was gone, he could fuck Claire without feeling like he was cheating emotionally on his dead wife.

"Hell," he muttered into the night, disturbing the soft tendrils of Claire's dark curling hair. "I really am insane."

Maybe so, but he owed Eliza that much. More.

Adam woke tangled in Claire Her long, slim

leg had somehow inserted itself between his thighs during the night. Her cheek pressed to his chest and the silky tendrils of her hair brushed his lips.

He ran his hand up her arm as his eyelids opened, over her smooth, sleep-warmed skin, and she murmured something incoherent, nuzzling his pectoral.

Arousal gripped him like a vise. He became painfully aware of the state of his cock, hard and wanting the woman whose limbs were currently intertwined with his.

She wasn't wearing any underwear.

If he rolled her to her back, tugged her beneath his body, spread her thighs with his knee, would she protest? If he slid his cock deep into her sleep-hot sex, would she sigh and moan for him? If last night had been any indication, Claire would welcome anything he did to her.

And he'd dreamt of her again.

That was why his body had awoken in such a state of intense need. Dreamt of her hands gliding down his chest, her lips brushing over his stomach, closing over his shaft — tongue wet — willing and exploring. In his dreams he'd played out every one of the things he'd wanted to do her the night before… and what he'd wanted her to do to him.

Ah, Gods, this was going to kill him.

Carefully, he untangled himself from her delectable body and sat on the edge of the bed, resting his head in his hands. He focused his attention on the carpet underneath his bare feet and tried to ignore the naked woman in the bed beside him.

Having her sleep with him had been a bad move. At the time he'd craved the feel of her against him and the warmth of her body. He'd asked her into his bed on a whim, not thinking about the price he'd pay in the morning.

And those damn dreams! He'd never had any so vivid in his life. Having Claire in his bed was a definite no-go from now on.

Claire roused and touched his shoulder. Her fingers on him were like an electric shock through his body. He shot from the bed, mumbled that he had to take a shower and got the hell out of there.

Claire watched Adam retreat as if she'd burned him. Frowning, she collapsed back against the pillows and watched him close the bathroom door.

The remnants of another sexual dream still clung to her mind and body. Last night in dreamland, Adam had done things to her unlike anything Ty had ever dreamed up. She'd done things to Adam, too, things that made her blood heat and gave her shivers simply to recall.

She'd put his cock in her mouth, made him tremble and groan her name. In her dreams she'd brought Adam — a big, strong man — to his knees with the bare swipe of her tongue and the kiss of her lips on his shaft.

Afterward he'd taken back control and forced her to her knees. He'd taken her from behind, his cock thrusting deep into her sex harder and faster, his hand stroking her clit, until pleasure had burst over them both.

It had been a wonderful dream, but she wanted the real thing.

Sex with Ty had been incredible. Back then, he'd satisfied all her needs, in every way. However, Adam was proving to be far more inventive. For example, she'd never known a man's tongue could do that to a woman.

The man intrigued her, even if his moodiness was somewhat off-putting.

Claire's brow knit as the shower in the bathroom turned on. She had no idea where she stood with him. The man ran as hot and cold as the water he now washed with.

She rose, got dressed, and went in search of the lovely warm drink they called coffee. The invigorating jolt to her veins was fast becoming the only thing that truly woke her all the way up in the morning.

Theo sat at the kitchen table. Pots, bowls, and a mortar and pestle sat on the counter. The kitchen was still redolent with the dry tang of herbs and Theo's spell book was open on a counter. The earth witch had been busy that morning.

She poured herself a cup, fished out a container of strawberry yogurt from the fridge, got a spoon, and sat down near him.

He laid the paper he'd been reading aside, replacing it on a stack of others. His long dark hair fell over one carmel-colored shoulder. "I've been checking the papers from here to Chicago. No crimes worthy of an Atrika have popped up, not even in the city."

She spooned up the yogurt. "That's good and it's bad. Good that no one has died that we know of." She hated to have to add that last bit to the end. That we know of. "Bad that the Atrika have gone quiet."

"What do you mean?"

"If the Atrika aren't leaving carnage in their wake, that means they're stalking. Stalking someone or something. They're calculating, trying to be quiet and unobtrusive."

"Yeah."

"When the other Atrika was loose here, the one your warlocks pulled through so many years ago. What did you say he called himself?"

"Erasmus Boyle."

She nodded. "That's right. Did he kill many people?"

He took a sip of his coffee. "Six witches, including Isabelle's sister. We know about those for sure. Micah went through all the police records since Boyle was pulled through. I think Micah's number at last count was one hundred and fifteen likely kills of humans."

"That would make sense. On average that's about five kills per year since his arrival. That's more or less what an Atrika will take normally, just to stave off boredom. He was not stalking."

"At least not until he started picking off the witches for his magickical blend. He stalked those witches." Theo paused. "Ask Isabelle. He stalked her."

Claire slid her half-finished yogurt cup across the table, suddenly not hungry.

Adam sauntered into the kitchen with his hair wet and sticking up in blond tufts all over his head. He'd shaved, and he wore a pair of close-fitting jeans, a black cable-knit sweater, and a pair of black boots. He mumbled something unintelligible at them and poured a cup of coffee.

"Witches aren't here yet," commented Theo.

"Yeah, I noticed that." Adam lifted his cup. "Thanks for pointing out the obvious, man."

Theo gave him an exasperated look. "Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I'm just saying, they're not here and they should be."

Icy cold fingers of dread eased up Claire's spine. She opened her mouth to inquire further, but Adam's cell phone vibrated in his back pocket.

He fished it out. "Hey Thomas." Pause. "No, they're not here." Adam's expression turned grim. "I've been helping Claire parse out her magick." Pause. "Yeah, yeah." Pause. "Okay."

He snapped the phone shut and looked at them. "They lost communication with the Coven witches in the middle of the night, while they were on their way here." He rubbed his chin. "The Atrika may have caught them en route. If they did, it's possible they know our location."

Claire stood, throwing her air magick wide open. She glanced at Theo's spell book. "How many charms are you holding, Theo?"

Theo stood, pushing a hand through his long, power-saturated hair. "I couldn't sleep last night. I was up until dawn brewing. I have as many charms as I can store."

"You both remember what I taught you about using earth and fire magick on daaeman, right?" She walked into the living room, to the window, and looked down the street.

They followed her and both answered in the affirmative.

"Good. You might have a… what's it called? A pop quiz soon."

The Atrika, if they'd gotten to the Coven witches, could be at the house anytime. They could be there now, just waiting for the right moment to spring.

She reached with her mind, using the air magick she possessed… listening. She heard low conversations, leaves blowing in the wind, the murmur of a couple talking on a front porch, the gentle purr of a car engine, a baby crying. She couldn't hear anything out the ordinary, but that meant little.

And then… nothing. A cloud of silence enveloped the world.

Oh, Houses.

She turned, sorrow spiking through her. "I'm sorry about your friends."

Adam took a step toward her. "Claire, what do you—"

"We need to leave. Now."

The Atrika burst through the front door.