Chapter 36

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

WREN

M y hand's clamped over my mouth, my attempt to stifle slightly hysterical laughter not quite working. The curtain I decided to hide behind shakes with it, and I do my best to contain myself.

Who knew I'd love being chased so much?

He's hunted me through three rooms so far, always getting just so close, and then letting me go, allowing me to run away again.

The room I've chosen to run into now is lovely, decorated in shades of cream and cerulean, a huge arched window looking out over a garden I doubt any of us knew existed until today.

Hands grip my waist and I shriek, the noise turning to laughter first, then a moan.

"Mine," Caelan murmurs and kisses the base of neck, making me melt against him. He's hard against my back, and suddenly, I'm tired of running.

I want to be caught.

I start to turn around, to face him, but his hands keep me from moving.

"You like this, don't you, my Wren?"

Instead of answering, I squirm, trying to get away again, my heart beating so loudly I'm surprised it's not echoing off the walls.

Caelan hooks a foot around my shin, and I squeak as I start to fall. He catches me, holding my body tight against his so I can feel his heart, matching mine.

"You're not going anywhere, witch. You ran right into my room, and if you think I'm not going to knot you here all night, you're sorely mistaken."

His grip gentles, just slightly, and I go limp until he loosens even more, his hands gently wandering up my chest, cupping my breasts.

Then I let out a laugh as I succeed in breaking away from him.

I only take two steps before all the breath whooshes out of me, his arms like a vise around my chest, pulling my back against his chest again.

"Oh, is that how you're going to be, my love?" There's a feral edge to his voice that makes me tighten all over.

He holds me close, then rips my trousers with one strong yank.

"Hey, those are my favorite?—"

"Your brownie will love to mend them for you."

"But what am I supposed to wear—" I gasp.

His hand slides into my underwear, between my legs, and he nudges my legs apart with a knee. "So wet for me already, lovely little witch," he purrs, and he's not wrong.

I suck in a breath, moaning again. My hips writhe against his hand, my body read for him.

"There she is, there's my lovely, lovely witch." His sharp fangs graze my throat, one hand massaging me so deliciously slowly that all the fight goes out of me.

His other hand runs up my shirt, finding my breast. I tilt my head as he nips at my skin, allowing him more access, allowing him all of me.

"So beautiful."

I preen under his praise, going near-limp as his fingers pinch my nipple, pleasure edged with pain. His fangs sharpen, and adrenaline spikes through me as I feel them elongate against the tender skin of my neck.

"Let me bite you," he growls. "Let me mark you as mine."

His hand moves upwards, tightening around my neck, his clever fingers circling my clit.

"So close," I say instead of yes.

"Oh, is that what my greedy, lovely witch wants? You want to come before I mark you? I have to earn it?" His fingers pick up the pace and I cry out, so close already.

"You need more, don't you, my love?"

I nod, at a loss for words. My entire being focuses on the sensations of Caelan against me, around me. His hard cock pressing into my back, his fingers playing me like a fiddle, his teeth tinging the pleasure with pain, somehow making it better.

Without warning, he thrusts two fingers deep inside me, his thumb strumming my clit like it was built for my pleasure.

"Tell me yes," he hisses, his breath hot against my skin.

"Make me come first," I tell him, practically pleading with him, my hips moving in rhythm with his hands.

His body leaves mine as quickly as he caught me, and I nearly fall backwards with the loss of it. In the next second, I'm airborne and he's carrying me to the sumptuous bed. His mouth covers mine, hot and needy, and I tangle my hands in his hair, wanting so much more.

The sound of fabric ripping startles me, and I harrumph as the offensive pieces of my shirt drift toward the floor, then claim his mouth in another desperate kiss.

"Fuck, Wren," he mutters, his hands gripping my ass. "Need to taste you."

He sets me on the bed, staring at me with worship in his eyes, and I've never felt more beautiful or powerful in my entire life.

"Take your clothes off," I demand, and point at the bed.

One side of his mouth kicks up in a cocky grin. "Ask nicely."

"Take your clothes off so I can suck your cock," I tell him, batting my eyelashes.

"Fuck," he moans.

"Please," I tack on, slightly desperate to watch him come undone, to taste and tease him just like he wants to do to me.

He does as I ask, finally, tugging his pants off while I do my best to pull his shirt off. Of course, that just makes it awkward, and by the time we tumble to the bed together, we're both laughing in each other's arms.

He kisses each cheek, then my nose, and when he reaches my mouth again, my whole body seems to sigh in relief.

Being in his arms feels like coming home.

It feels like a magic all our own.