Whoever he was, he was powerful. She hadn’t felt it as strongly before, when she was so intent on having him inside her.
Now…her hair stood on end. Death magic. He communicated with the dead, and he’d been doing it recently.
“I think you did enough of that for both of us, lady,” he growled.
“You’ve got balls complaining about my spell when you’re out here raising the dead. Don’t you need a warrant for that? Or at least consent from the surviving relatives?”
Anna J. Evans & December Quinn
Why it was the wrong thing to say, Aleeza didn’t know, but it certainly was. In a flash the man was on his feet, his grip changed from her ankle to her wrist with bruising strength. His body, so close to hers, radiated heat. She shivered and did her best not to wince as her bones rubbed together in ways that just weren’t natural.
“That’s right,” he said, his eyes gleaming strangely. “I was trying to raise the dead.
But funnily enough, my power was stolen. Now who could have done that?”
Aleeza looked down and turned away, suddenly afraid. Her mind raced. Maybe that alien male power that rushed through her body hadn’t been Eros after all. She’d never stolen power from anyone, no matter that her father had been Amiantos and some witches of her own coven insisted she might very well have inherited the ability.
By the age of four or five it had been clear that her power would develop Gunera, not even the slightest doubt, as there had been with her two older brothers. Simon and Heath both had green in their auras, a sign that they might carry some of their father’s Amiantos power. But not her. Sometimes she wondered if that’s why her pop had left, if the shame of siring a pure Gunera witch was too much for him to handle.
“I didn’t steal anything. I wouldn’t know how.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“I don’t care what you believe,” she said, pulling at her wrist. He lightened his hold but didn’t set her free. Shit. The flat-out denial wasn’t going to work.
He’d run into her grove already naked and been semi-erect when he arrived at her side. So maybe he was lying. Maybe he hadn’t been raising the dead. Maybe he had been doing some sex magic of his own.
Amiantos could share power when performing similar spells. Maybe she had stolen his? Goddess, as if she’d know what to do with it even if she had. Witches practiced for years to channel others’ power. If she’d accidentally shoplifted his, she wouldn’t know how to use it for good or evil. Hell, she wouldn’t even know how to give it back to him without asking for advice.
And she would never ask for advice from a member of the undefiled coven.
“Any ideas?” His voice was low and hoarse now, his body so close she could feel his skin against her back. Her breath caught.
“Never had an idea in my life,” she said, but her voice trembled. Smartass worked so much better without the tremble, but she couldn’t seem to control her own traitorous body. She wanted him still, even more fiercely than she had a few moments ago when he had been buried inside her.
“I’m sure you don’t.” His hands slid up her arms, her shoulders, stroking forward and down over the slopes of her breasts. He cupped them, lifting their soft weight.
Aleeza, unable to stop herself, leaned back into the heat of him with a moan. His cock was hard and a little sticky with their combined fluids against her ass, prodding at her soft skin.
Suddenly he pinched her nipples, hard enough to make her cry out. “I think I know someone who owes me an orgasm,” he said. “And in my world, debts are paid.”
“I don’t owe you—” she started, but he turned her roughly around, forcing her to the ground. The second her ass hit the dirt, his lips covered hers, savage, ruthless.
“A little sex magic,” he murmured. “I can do a little sex magic of my own.”
She wanted to answer but