instrument!”
She echoed him and then hissed as his erection slid up between her thighs. He eased into her from behind. The angle was different and for a second it took longer to get the right adjustment for them to move. She hissed at the bite of pain as she stretched around his hard length. He cupped a cheek of her ass with one hand and cupped her right breast with his other hand. Leaning forward, he nibbled at her ear lobes and then at her pulse point.
Whispering, he added, “Make love with me, darling.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
EVERYTHING ABOUT CAITLIN was amazing, but now all Logan could do was marvel at the tightness of her channel, as he pounded into her. With every motion, his balls slapped against her ass. He felt her match his rhythm, arching her back up to give him a better angle to play first with her ass, and then to fondle a very different set of lips. The juices of her pussy, warm and intoxicating, sluiced over his left hand, and he worked forward to find the golden button of her clit.
Sweat dripped down her neck and her back, and the curve of her breasts bounced. His young witch was biting her lip to keep from shouting his name from the roof tops.
So controlled.
Everything he’d ever damn wanted.
But he felt her climax, her sex pulsing with its crescendo. It clamped him ferociously, silently, as she quivered in his gasp.
Now he was rushing, feeling the need pulling through him. The scent of rosemary was tingling in his nostrils, the scent of her—so female, so raw—hung in his throat. His balls quivered and then he hoisted up against her, slamming into her G-spot with all the force he could muster. He came then, and she reeled back and tossed flaming red hair into his eyes.
“Goddess that was amazing,” she said, as he pulled out and she eased into his arms, her back to his chest. “I feel like I’m connected to everything.”
“Yes, you’ll feel that buzz for at least an hour,” he added. “So now you just need to breathe and concentrate. Focus on the tattoo you saw, on the red of it like crimson, like blood. Think of the shape and the strength of its lines. Tell me what you see.”
Caitlin went still in his arms for long moments. He marveled at the view, her breasts heaving before him. Idly, he traced his fingers over her nipples and reveled in the slight pebbling against his fingertips. Suddenly her breathing quickened, and she shivered in his arms. He almost would have mistaken that for arousal until she went rigid and screamed.
“It’s Darren! He’s going to kill that woman and then he’s going to kill me and Sheila.”
He spun her to him.
“We’re on some type of altar,” she finished, her eyes wild with fear. “How can that be?”
He gripped her shoulders. He knew all too well.
“Holy ground weakens our powers.”
“I…we have to get to Sheila’s apartment,” she gasped. “It’s on the edge of the city by the stadiums. Goddess, she has to be okay.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CAITLIN SENSED MORE than saw that something was wrong. Sheila’s house was dark. It was never dark. Logan had driven like a mad man to get them here in record time. He stomped on the brakes and the Porsche screeched to a stop. In moments they were both out of the car.
But just as they reached the front door, already ajar, Logan put a hand in her chest.
“No,” he whispered harshly. “Back in the car.”
“Like Hell,” she said.
Moving with as much speed as she could muster, she dodged around him and flew through the door. But she jolted to a stop at what she saw.
Darren loomed over her sister, who was already hog-tied with thick electrical cord, her hands and feet bound behind her. He was dressed just as she’d last seen him, in jeans and a flannel shirt. In his hand was a sword that he held above his head.
A short man in the robes of what looked like a Catholic or possibly Episcopal priest’s vestments was chanting. His robes were long and black, accented with a purple sash
She echoed him and then hissed as his erection slid up between her thighs. He eased into her from behind. The angle was different and for a second it took longer to get the right adjustment for them to move. She hissed at the bite of pain as she stretched around his hard length. He cupped a cheek of her ass with one hand and cupped her right breast with his other hand. Leaning forward, he nibbled at her ear lobes and then at her pulse point.
Whispering, he added, “Make love with me, darling.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
EVERYTHING ABOUT CAITLIN was amazing, but now all Logan could do was marvel at the tightness of her channel, as he pounded into her. With every motion, his balls slapped against her ass. He felt her match his rhythm, arching her back up to give him a better angle to play first with her ass, and then to fondle a very different set of lips. The juices of her pussy, warm and intoxicating, sluiced over his left hand, and he worked forward to find the golden button of her clit.
Sweat dripped down her neck and her back, and the curve of her breasts bounced. His young witch was biting her lip to keep from shouting his name from the roof tops.
So controlled.
Everything he’d ever damn wanted.
But he felt her climax, her sex pulsing with its crescendo. It clamped him ferociously, silently, as she quivered in his gasp.
Now he was rushing, feeling the need pulling through him. The scent of rosemary was tingling in his nostrils, the scent of her—so female, so raw—hung in his throat. His balls quivered and then he hoisted up against her, slamming into her G-spot with all the force he could muster. He came then, and she reeled back and tossed flaming red hair into his eyes.
“Goddess that was amazing,” she said, as he pulled out and she eased into his arms, her back to his chest. “I feel like I’m connected to everything.”
“Yes, you’ll feel that buzz for at least an hour,” he added. “So now you just need to breathe and concentrate. Focus on the tattoo you saw, on the red of it like crimson, like blood. Think of the shape and the strength of its lines. Tell me what you see.”
Caitlin went still in his arms for long moments. He marveled at the view, her breasts heaving before him. Idly, he traced his fingers over her nipples and reveled in the slight pebbling against his fingertips. Suddenly her breathing quickened, and she shivered in his arms. He almost would have mistaken that for arousal until she went rigid and screamed.
“It’s Darren! He’s going to kill that woman and then he’s going to kill me and Sheila.”
He spun her to him.
“We’re on some type of altar,” she finished, her eyes wild with fear. “How can that be?”
He gripped her shoulders. He knew all too well.
“Holy ground weakens our powers.”
“I…we have to get to Sheila’s apartment,” she gasped. “It’s on the edge of the city by the stadiums. Goddess, she has to be okay.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CAITLIN SENSED MORE than saw that something was wrong. Sheila’s house was dark. It was never dark. Logan had driven like a mad man to get them here in record time. He stomped on the brakes and the Porsche screeched to a stop. In moments they were both out of the car.
But just as they reached the front door, already ajar, Logan put a hand in her chest.
“No,” he whispered harshly. “Back in the car.”
“Like Hell,” she said.
Moving with as much speed as she could muster, she dodged around him and flew through the door. But she jolted to a stop at what she saw.
Darren loomed over her sister, who was already hog-tied with thick electrical cord, her hands and feet bound behind her. He was dressed just as she’d last seen him, in jeans and a flannel shirt. In his hand was a sword that he held above his head.
A short man in the robes of what looked like a Catholic or possibly Episcopal priest’s vestments was chanting. His robes were long and black, accented with a purple sash
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