The Seven Year Witch: That Old Black Magic, Book 2 by Jodi Redford Page A

he’d tied her with. The angle of her head made it impossible though.
    “They’re a pair of stockings,” Logan said, obviously taking pity on her plight.
    “Mine?”
    He chuckled. “Well, they’re sure as hell not mine.”
    “Logan, we can’t do this.” She attempted to inject a modicum of calm reason in her voice. Something she failed miserably at, considering the breathless way she’d whispered the words.
    “It’s a little late to play hard to get, shug.” As if taunting her, Logan tickled the inside of her calf, making her squirm. “Besides, I like havin’ you at my mercy like this. No way I’m passin’ up the opportunity to do all kinds of wicked things.”
    It was on the tip of her tongue to point out that this had nothing to do with playing coy, and everything to do with ensuring they wouldn’t get busted by her coven sisters. But once again, the blistering-hot promise in Logan’s tone had her protests dying in her throat. Instead, she swallowed and licked her lips before voicing the one question most prominently featured in her mind. “Wh-what kind of wicked things?”
    Logan’s slow smile revealed his triumph. The bastard knew he had her. “For starters, I’m plannin’ on gorging on you. And I’ll take my sweet time with it.” His fingertips danced upward, flirting with the scalloped hem of her cotton sleep shorts. “You’ll beg me to go faster, beg me to make you come, but that won’t happen until I’m good and ready.”
    The firm authority in his tone provoked another of those decadent shivers throughout her body, and her clit throbbed in anticipation of the delicious torture Logan was about to inflict on it. It occurred to her again that she shouldn’t like this, having the control stripped away from her.
    So why was her pussy wetter than it had ever been? It must be the situation. Being trussed to her bed with her own damn stockings. Sweet goddess, she was truly warped.
    “I can smell how aroused you are.” Logan’s voice was practically the consistency of gravel. Just the sound of it turned her on like crazy. He slid his palms beneath the legs of her shorts and cupped her ass before delving his fingers into the crease between her cheeks. With teasing lightness, he grazed over the sensitive tissue of her perineum. She held her breath as his fingertip dipped against her hidden pucker.
    “I’m gonna fuck you here too. Not tonight. But soon.”
    “What if I don’t w-want it?”
    “Then I’d honor your decision to say no.” The pad of his finger stroked her, its soft, seductive glide coaxing a moan from her throat. “But I’m bankin’ on a different word comin’ from your mouth when I’m feastin’ on your pussy, gettin’ you hot and desperate for my cock. By the time I’m done, you’ll want me sinkin’ balls-deep in every single one of your holes. And I will, baby. I’ll give you everything you crave.”
    The fire raging through her body threatened to consume her. She arched against his hand, a needy whimper escaping. “Logan…”
    With a growl, he tugged the shorts off her and settled between her legs. She caught another flash of those glinting, predatory eyes before his head descended. Her body tensed, preparing for a thorough devouring, but all she got was a teasing flicker from his tongue. She bit her lip to keep from wailing at him to lick her faster. Deeper. Remembering his promise to make her beg, she huffed in the back of her throat. Logan chuckled. Goddamn rat bastard.
    He hummed against her slit for a millisecond, making her see stars. “Mm, you’re fuckin’ sweet.”
    “More than I can say about you.”
    “Aw, shug. That any way to talk to a guy while he’s eatin’ you out?”
    “Please. You’re barely licking me.”
    He lifted away from her, and she almost wept in frustration.
    “The first lesson in respectin’ your alpha is to trust that he knows what’s best. For us both, Rissa.” The intensity in Logan’s gaze excited and frightened