Chapter Four

I didn’t know how I was supposed to react when Ric sat beside me in the truck and stared straight out the window, a haunted look in his eyes. I set my drink down in the cupholder between us, hoping he didn’t guzzle it in one swallow.

Slumping in his seat, he let out a groan before turning to me with wide, golden eyes. “Luci, I’m sorry.”

I rubbed warmth into my arms. “What exactly are you?” I couldn’t get the image of his big, golden, shaggy head out of my mind. I’d thought he was a cat shifter of some sort, but I didn’t think a lion had a head that big, almost the size of an elephant.

Bitter-sounding laughter escaped his throat. “You can’t tell?”

I shrugged. “I’m guessing a shape-shifter of some sort.”

Tension lines framed his mouth. “Yeah, of some sort.”

“And you’ve been putting off asking me out because the beast inside you is a glutton?” It was more of a statement than a question, though now things were starting to make more sense, especially his cinnamon roll addiction.

He laughed again. “That’s an understatement.”

I swallowed when I saw the yellow flare in his eyes again. He looked so feline. His shift had been so fast, I hadn’t gotten a good enough look at him. “Those two dozen cinnamon rolls, they aren’t for your office workers, are they?”

He answered with a knowing grin.

“How high is your grocery bill?”

He flexed tanned, muscular arms. “I hunt a few times a week, so that keeps the cost down.”

I saw his image flash in my mind again and I distinctly remembered lots of yellow fur, perhaps a mane. “Are you a lion?”

He let out a low, deep purr that did something wicked to my insides. “More mythical.”

Great Goddess! Mythical creatures were rare, and if Ethyl was to be believed, especially hot in the sack. I licked my dry lips. “A Sphinx?”

“Bingo.” The beast flashed in his eyes again, and I swear my panties melted to my thighs.

I clutched my purse in my lap, thinking of the lipstick wand inside. What if he was a murderer, or worse, what if he was demon possessed? It would be just my luck to go on a date with a soul sucker.

“I-I thought you all went extinct a long time ago.”

He dragged a hand down his face. “Uh, no.”

“So you must be pretty old.” Why did a saggy ass crack in adult diapers flash through my mind? Ric didn’t look old. If he wasn’t a succubus, I prayed his feline nutsack didn’t reach his knees.

“Nah.” He shrugged. “Only a little over a century.”

Which was probably middle-aged for a mythical creature. “Oh.” I slowly unsnapped the clasp on my purse and opened a box of mints, while eyeing my lipstick wand in the corner pocket. “Why aren’t you in the registry?”

“Long story.”

I slipped a mint in my mouth while casually fingering my wand. “Are you an outlaw?”

“No.” He loosed a long breath. “I’m dead.”

I stilled when he eyed my hand on my wand. “You’re dead?”

“No, but there’s a succubus who thinks I’m dead.” He nodded toward my hand clutching the wand. “And I’d like it to stay that way.”

Merlin’s balls!

Several things ran through my mind at once. First off, I didn’t recall seeing any red in his eyes when he shifted, a tell-tale sign of a demon possession. Second, he’d just told me an incredibly big secret, which if it were true, meant he trusted that I wasn’t a succubus. In the magical world, witches didn’t spill secrets to strangers without risking their souls. Literally. If witches told succubi their secrets, that gave them the power to possess them. Then I remembered my father telling me that sphinxes were immune to succubi mind-control. He’d also said all sphinxes had been killed by succubi specifically for this reason. Apparently, all but one.

Holy troll turds! Was he telling the truth? I dropped my wand back in my purse as my veins turned to lead. “What happened?”

“Same old succubus story.” He shrugged. “She was hunting me, and I faked my death.”

I swallowed back a knot that had suddenly formed in my throat. If my parents had faked their deaths, they might still be alive, but, no, they thought they could take on the succubus who’d threatened our family. “A succubus killed my parents.”

“I’m sorry.” He gripped my hand, his eyes softening. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied. I hadn’t been okay since losing them. I turned my gaze to his hand on mine, to the battered and scarred knuckles on his dark golden skin, and I realized he’d seen his share of battles. What kind of mom was I, dating a hunted sphinx? My toes curled and my veins heated when he squeezed my hand, and I realized what kind of mom I was—a horny one. Besides, I couldn’t escape the feeling that our fates were somehow entwined and that I needed him for more than just a romp between the sheets. Though my instincts had been wrong before—I married Colin, after all—I couldn’t shake the feeling that Ric was somehow my destiny. Corny, right?

He squeezed my hand. “It’s not good to hold it in.”

My breath caught when I looked into his luminous eyes. “Yeah, but talking about soul suckers puts me in a bad mood.”

“Me, too.” He released my hand and leaned back in his seat.

I rubbed warmth into my hand while missing his touch. “Well, what now?” I was a fool for not asking him to take me back to the bakery. I should’ve just admired him from behind the safety of the bakery counter while watching him finger my rolls.

“If you’re hungry,” he said, “we can order takeout, but I can’t eat in public.”

“Your place, then?” I blurted before engaging my brain. Surely, I had to have siren in my bloodline.

“If that’s okay with you.” He flashed a boyish grin, revealing sharp canines, or maybe they were called fangs in the feline world. Either way, I suddenly realized why some witches were attracted to vampires, because I wanted nothing more than for him to sink his fangs into me.

My gut twisted in a knot. Why had I suggested his place? If I made him take me back to the bakery now, I could get home in time to charge my vibrator before my favorite late-night show. It felt as if someone else was speaking for me as I pushed out the word. “Sure.”

I DIDN’T KNOW WHY I was expecting Ric to take me to a rundown apartment with giant week-old kitty litter boxes in the corner. What I wasn’t expecting was for him to drive me to a gorgeous Spanish-style mansion on the outskirts of town with the beautiful Sangre de Cristo Mountain silhouettes in the backdrop, outlined by the starry sky. Of course, he lived far from the city. He said he hunted a few times a week, and with his appetite, he’d need big game animals. I just hoped there wasn’t a pile of elk carcasses in his backyard.

We’d already picked up six pizzas and four buckets of wings for him. Since they didn’t have many gluten-free options at the pizza parlor, I was stuck with a chicken and spinach salad without croutons. One reason I’d opened a gluten-free bakery was because my son had week-long meltdowns after he ate anything with wheat, barley, or rye, and since he had a sweet tooth, I wanted him to have a safe place to enjoy his favorites. I couldn’t deny those grains turned me into a Bitchzilla, not to mention they transformed my insides into something out of a horror movie. I certainly didn’t want to cut our date short because I exploded Ric’s toilet, not to mention I’d never be able to face him again.

I followed him into his home, admiring the Spanish tile floors and stained-glass windows of the two-story dramatic rounded entryway. We walked beneath an antique chandelier as big as a small car. The walls were white stucco with dark wood beams crisscrossing the high ceilings. Every archway and door was in the rounded Spanish style. My jaw dropped when he took me into what I could only describe as my dream kitchen with rows of rustic cabinets, the hugest center island I’d ever seen, a massive touch-screen refrigerator, a gas range, and double ovens.

He set the pizza boxes and wings on the gray-and-white granite countertop.

I clutched my small salad, smirking. “You sure that’s enough?”

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s just a snack. I already had dinner.”

Oh! I tried to hide my shock as I realized those cinnamon rolls were probably a midmorning snack, too.

He draped his coat over the back of a barstool and rolled up his sleeves, revealing toned, tanned arms. The more I tried not to imagine those arms wrapped around me while I straddled his waist, the more I imagined it.

I slipped out of my coat, intending to hang it on the back of a barstool, but then it floated away and disappeared behind a doorway in the living room that faced us. “Cool enchantment,” I said to him.

“Yeah.” He scratched the back of his head, his cheeks flaming.

I swallowed at that, smoothing shaky hands down my pants. If my floating coat wasn’t enchanted, that left only one other option in the magical world—his house was haunted. Considering he worked in a mortuary, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Could this night get any weirder?

That large soda I’d guzzled on the way to his house decided to make its presence known, and my skin-tight jeans didn’t make it easier on my poor bladder. “Do you mind if I use your restroom?” I asked.

“Sure.” He pointed to a hall on the other side of the kitchen. “First door on the left.”

The bathroom was just as opulent as the rest of the house and much bigger than the master bath in my condo, with a shower big enough for a harem and a separate bidet next to the toilet. Somehow, I had the feeling Ric had it specially installed. No doubt he needed the extra sanitation after eating a buffet’s worth of food every day. At least he didn’t use a litterbox. I thanked the ghosts who handed me a fresh hand towel, annoyed that the spirits had probably watched me suck in my breath while peeling my jeans back over my gut.

I tried to be quick, though I decided to touch up my hair and reapply my shimmery gloss, plus dab a bit of extra deodorant in my pits.

Imagine my shock when I returned to the kitchen to find the pizza boxes and wing buckets were gone. Ric looked sheepish while nursing a beer from a seat at a comfy breakfast table beside a set of bay windows overlooking the starry night sky. And sitting on the table across from him was my pitiful little salad.

“You already ate?” I asked as I sat down, wincing when my jeans dug into my belly button.

“Yeah.” His blush intensified. “Hope you don’t mind. I prefer to eat alone.”

Of course he did. I plastered on a smile. “I understand.”

He stood, tipping back the last of his beer. “Would you like a glass of wine with dinner?”

I cracked open the plastic lid on my salad. “Sure.” Anything to relax me during this incredibly awkward date.

He had to go to the wine cellar to retrieve the bottle. I thought about following him, but this night had been awkward enough. I didn’t want to find his sarcophagus or collection of petrified dragon balls.

After he disappeared, I silently chewed my food while taking in the view from the table. This house was beautiful with comfortable, rustic leather furniture and vaulted ceilings. Considering Ric’s age and rare species, I suspected he came from old money. He probably had a Swiss bank account somewhere. That would’ve impressed me years ago, but after being married to Colin, I knew it only increased the chances of Ric being a douchebag. I certainly hoped not. What a waste of a delicious hunk that would be.

I tried not to stare at his thick biceps, broad, muscular chest, or that sexy slanted tilt of his full lips when he returned from the basement and uncorked the wine, giving me a sultry look that made my insides turn to jelly. He poured the wine into a glass and slid it to me.

“This pairs well with chicken,” he said with a wink.

Ordinarily, I would’ve been skeptical of any man who assumed to know my tastes, but honestly, I wasn’t a wine connoisseur and never had been. Colin and his family had always pretended to be cultured, though I knew they wouldn’t know the difference between wine from a box or a bottle.

I took a hesitant sip, then resisted the urge to gulp it down. The wine was the best I’d ever tasted, mild and fruity, something from last century that was imported from Italy. It sure made the dry chicken in my salad go down easier. Propriety be damned. I took several more sips.

“Is the salad good?” he asked as he sat across from me.

I suddenly felt like an injured gazelle caught in a lion’s gaze at the hungry look in his eyes. And then his musky pheromones wafted in my direction, punching me right in the ovaries. I nearly choked on an olive. “It’s a salad.”

He flashed a fanged grin, not bothering to hide the monster that lurked beneath his skin as his eyes narrowed to glowing, feline slits. “Nothing beats your homemade pastries.”

I picked around the wilted lettuce, nibbling on a few cucumbers. “Glad you like them.”

“I love them.” His grin widened. “They’re the best part of waking up in the morning, other than seeing your smile.”

Heat flamed my face, and I was suddenly overcome with a wave of shyness, which wasn’t like me. I didn’t know how to respond to his compliment, mainly because I wasn’t used to getting them, not since Colin and I had first dated. How sad.

His brow furrowed as he nodded toward my food. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“I picked out the good parts.” Truthfully, my stomach was too tied up in knots to eat. I was in the home of an unregistered shifter who was pretending to be dead. His pheromones had my head in a tailspin, and I didn’t know if I wanted to run from or straddle him.

“How about a movie?” he asked as I pushed away my salad. “I have my own theater room with surround sound.”

I perked at that as I downed the rest of my wine. “Sure.”

He stood and pulled out my chair, then grabbed the wine bottle and my empty glass. I took his elbow when he held it out to me, even though I suspected he would try to get me drunk so he could take advantage of me. Fool that I was, I’d probably let him. I only prayed he didn’t eat me—at least, not in a bad way.

OF COURSE, HIS THEATER room was nicer than an actual movie theater, with reclining seats, a fully stocked bar, and an old-fashioned popcorn machine. I thought about asking him to fire up the popcorn, but I didn’t want to test fate again, so I sipped my wine while he pulled up a list of his favorite movies, most of them being my mom’s favorite classics, including Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Casablanca , and the entire catalog of I Love Lucy, Dark Shadows, and Bewitched. My mom would’ve taken one look at his catalog and insisted I marry him. My heart might have sighed a little when he handed me the remote. I picked It Happened One Night and curled into a chair while working on my second glass of wine.

Ric was a perfect gentleman during the movie—too perfect. He didn’t make a single move, not so much as a brush of his arm against mine, though I didn’t make it easy. Ric had been thoughtful enough to offer me chocolate almonds that helped ease the grumbling in my tummy, but I felt awkward eating in front of him. Worried he’d start craving chocolate and inhale them from my face, I had no choice but to lean away from him, my jeans digging into my side as I practically fell over into the other seat. I knew I was sending the wrong signals, but maybe it wasn’t a good idea to sleep with him. Besides, I’d been disappointed by sex too many times to count, but I’d never been let down by chocolate.

I tried to focus on the movie, though it was hard with so much maleness sitting beside me. The pheromones coming off him were like nothing I’d ever smelled before, and I had to fight the urge to throw myself on top of him and inhale every pore of his golden-tan skin. The stronger the urge to climb into his lap, the more I leaned away from him. I kept checking my phone, wishing Des would text me or Ethyl would call with a crisis. Heck, at this point I wouldn’t care if Puffy burned down the bakery, just so I could get the heck away from this tempting hunk of beastflesh.

After trying to drown away my cravings with two glasses of wine (had I mentioned I was a lightweight?) I switched to water. But it was too late. My head was swimming, and my bladder felt ready to explode. I stumbled to my feet, loudly announcing I needed to use the restroom. Ric pointed to the direction of the bathroom in a darkened hallway attached to the other side of the theater room.

My world tilted a little too much as I made my way to the bathroom. I used the walls covered in rich mahogany wood to balance myself, and I regretted not finishing my dry chicken salad. I stopped when I saw the black-and-white ruggel photographs hanging in the hall. I recognized Ric standing among the team wearing old-fashioned trousers, a leather helmet that looked like an old aviator’s cap, and a misshapen ball tucked under his arm. Though the picture was grainy, I noticed his youthful smile and sharp eyes. He looked about the age of a twenty-year-old husk. Then I did a double take when I read the words, “1934 World Ruggel Champions.”

Holy hex! I had no idea. Des would love to meet a real-life ruggel champion in the flesh. I worried about my boy with his farty-breath father and Homewrecker Barbie. Des hadn’t texted me, which was a good sign, right? It was almost his bedtime. I always wished him goodnight and told him I loved him, even when he was at his dad’s. I would have to call him soon.

When I reached the end of the hall, I noticed there were two doors; one led to what appeared to be the outside with a fogged, stained-glass window. The bathroom was obvious, for the door was cracked open, and I saw the sink inside. But I was curious about the door that led outside. Maybe I could pretend I didn’t notice the sink. I looked over my shoulder to see Ric’s back was to me while he poured a drink at the bar. I took that as a sign that I should examine what was behind the mystery door.

I cracked it open, shocked to see a swimming pool and attached hot tub nestled inside a large atrium. Damn. How rich was this shifter? The pool had a beautiful color-changing waterfall, and the hot tub bubbled and boiled. How badly I wanted to dip my toe in it. Or maybe just my feet. Who was I kidding? I’d kill to take a deep soak and let the jets pound away the tension in my shoulders.

“The bathroom is the other way,” a low, deep rumble sounded behind me.

I gave a start, my heart nearly jumping out of my chest as I spun around and looked into Ric’s slitted feline eyes. “Oh!” When he flashed a fanged grin, I gave him an accusatory look. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a hot tub?”

He shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”

“Do you use it?” I blurted, then mentally chided myself. Why would I ask him that?

“Every night.” He motioned toward the tub. “Do you want to get in?”

I averted my gaze, biting my lip when I was hit with a wave of his pheromones that were so strong, my ovaries started flashing and my uterus laid out a landing strip. “I don’t have a bathing suit.”

He twirled a lock of my hair around his finger. “I won’t peek.”

His deep purr rattled my bones and did something to my insides, and his musky smell made me wish I’d worn a panty liner, or maybe an adult diaper, to contain the moisture leaking out of me.

“Mm.” I licked my lips while leaning toward him, mesmerized by the flash of yellow in his eyes. It felt as if someone else was speaking for me as I answered, “Okay.” I wasn’t sure what sort of spell this beast had over me, and I didn’t care. I had the feeling he had the power to prove to me sex was actually better than chocolate.

THOSE TWO GLASSES OF wine were doing backflips in my head as I sank beneath the steamy bubbles wearing nothing but my bra and undies while Ric sat in the tub across from me eyeing me like a lion stalking an injured gazelle.

Alone in a hottub...with an outlaw...a sphinx with a voracious appetite...who was being hunted by a succubus...or so he said.

I wondered if my instincts told me I needed to be here this night with him, or if he had me under a spell. And if I was spell cast, did I want to wake? Maybe after a soak in the tub. Or a roll between the sheets.

I was certifiably crazy, not to mention an irresponsible mother. At least I’d called my son before stripping off my clothes. He was playing his video game and didn’t want to talk other than to tell me Felicity had ruined dinner, and they had to order takeout, and how much he didn’t like her.

I was relieved to be picking him up early Sunday. And I knew I was being petty and vindictive, but I was glad Homewrecker Barbie was a terrible cook considering how much Colin loved food. I knew he missed my cooking, for he’d told me so more than once, and believe it or not, this wasn’t the first time his new wife had asked for my recipes. Colin had once had the audacity to invite me over to teach her his favorites.

As if.

Hopefully, her blowjobs were worth it, because he was never getting another apple pie from me.

But back to the outlaw shifter, because he had somehow scooted closer to me, his feline pheromones sending my libido in a tailspin and liquefying my insides. His tattoos were on complete display now, swirling tribal flames racing up his arms and across his chest. I had to bite my lip while fighting my urge to lick my way up the ink.

“You like?” he asked while motioning toward the water swirling around us.

I eyed him over the rim of my virgin strawberry daiquiri. Did I mention he made killer daiquiris with fresh fruit and a delicious coconut milk in place of the rum?

I sank further in the water, letting the magical jets smooth away the tension in my shoulders. “Very much.”

“I lied.”

I clutched the stem of my glass, my gaze centering on his very full and kissable lips. “What?”

He waggled his brows, the lion shining through in his eyes. “I peeked.”

“Oh?” That dry chicken salad did backflips in my tummy as I stared down at my girls that rose to the surface like personal flotation devices. I could’ve balanced my daiquiri on them had I wanted. “What do you think?” I asked, then tensed. Yes, my breasts were big, but so were my hips and thighs. My stomach, though not huge, definitely wasn’t flat, the casualty of never completely shedding the baby weight while also working in a bakery.

He scooted even closer until our shoulders were touching and twirled a lock of my auburn hair around his finger, his deep purr sending a trill racing across my bones. “Your body is lovely.” He waggled his brows. “Especially your breasts.”

“Thanks.” For some reason, I believed him, even after surviving almost two years of breastfeeding a very hungry baby. One thing about my magic: I could smooth away blemishes, but I couldn’t defy gravity.

He frowned. “You weren’t enjoying the movie.”

I bit my lip. “Was I that obvious?”

“I could scent your discomfort,” he said as he took my drink from me.

“Oh.” I tensed when he casually set my drink on the side of the deck. Why did he do that? Was he going to kiss me? “I just, I didn’t want to tempt you with my chocolate.”

“Chocolate doesn’t tempt me like warm butter, or like you.” The purr that escaped him as he dragged his knuckles down the side of my face liquefied my bones and made me think of all kinds of wicked thoughts, namely how would his throaty purr feel with his mouth pressed between my legs.

He let out a dark chuckle while nuzzling my neck. “I could also scent your desire.”

I swallowed when his fingers grazed my thigh. “Sorry.” I had no idea why I’d apologized. I was vaguely aware of the word pouring from my mouth when I couldn’t think past straddling him and letting him impale me. I hadn’t been this horny in a long time, maybe ever.

“Why would you apologize for that?” He nuzzled my neck again, causing my gooseflesh to rise and my sex to swell with need. “You don’t have to be frightened around me. I’d never hurt you, mi amor .”

Mi amor. “Oh!” Merlin’s balls. When that deep Spanish burr rolled off his tongue, my nipples perked and my sex painfully swelled as if my body was responding to a mating call. Surely, he’d enchanted me, and certainly I didn’t care. I wanted him so badly, I feared I’d combust.

“May I kiss you?” he whispered, his breath hot and heavy against my neck as his hand slowly moved up my thigh.

May he what? “Yes,” I heard myself saying. I closed my eyes and grasped his taut shoulders, expecting him to kiss me on the lips, but then he feasted on my neck. The breath expelled from my lungs. I should’ve been mortified at the way his predatory fangs raked down my neck as he massaged my shoulder and hip, sending trills of magic racing across my skin.

Great Goddess, who’d taught him to eat a woman like this? How indecent! I arched my neck to give him better access.

And then he trailed kisses across my jawline before his lips finally found mine. He tasted like strawberry daiquiri and spice and something feral that I couldn’t name. I was going to burst into a thousand fragments as fire raced through my veins. Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself straddling his waist, clinging to his muscular back while deepening the kiss and grinding against his very thick and stiff protrusion.

He had to have been packing a taurus horn. Nobody was that big. Then again, I’d only ever had one other before him. Silly me, keeping the first catch of the day when there were obviously much bigger fish in the sea.

“I want you, mi amor,” he murmured against my lips while his hand roved my back before settling on my bra clasp.

I sighed into his mouth when his hands flattened across my back. A million thoughts raced through my brain. He wanted me! And I wanted him. So very badly. So why wasn’t he unclasping my bra?

Much to my chagrin, he broke the kiss, grasping my shoulders while searching my gaze, molten lava swirling in his eyes. “May I take it off?”

I eagerly nodded, and then he was unfastening my bra, not with clumsy cucumber fingers, but with one deft stroke, as if he’d been practicing this his entire life. I swallowed as he slipped the straps off my shoulders, and I wondered, if he had managed to unclasp my bra so easily, would he also find my g-spot without a compass, a map, and an electronic GPS? I shouldn’t get my hopes up, but a girl could dream.

And then my bra fell off. He was considerate enough to toss it onto the pool decking as my nipples pebbled in the cool air.

“Qué bonita,” he growled as he cupped each breast in his warm, calloused hands, scraping my nipples with his thumbs.

My head involuntarily rolled back as a groan escaped me. Never had I felt anything so exquisite. And he was only at second base. Goddess help me.

His eyes shifted completely into two feline slits and his nose flattened as he raised me up until his head was level with my chest. My breath caught when he took a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around my sensitive flesh.

I stiffened in his arms, so consumed by the flame that I couldn’t think, much less breathe as he feasted on one breast and then the other, treating my nipples as if they were manna from heaven.

His nostrils flared as he let out a deep purr that rattled my insides while looking up at me through glowing eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Too stunned or horny to speak, I bobbled my head like a doll with a broken neck.

He rolled my nipples between thick fingers. “Are you sure, mi amor?”

I sucked in a hiss while squirming in his arms. “Yes, yes, just please don’t stop.”

And before I knew what was happening, he was lifting me out of the water and carrying me to a padded wicker chaise lounge wide enough for three people. He laid me across the mattress as if he was gently setting a babe in a crib and then stripped off my panties.

I felt so exposed as the cool air blew across my sensitive flesh, and all I could think was thank the Goddess I’d let Ethyl convince me to wax down there. A shiver coursed through me as I held my arms out to him.

“In a moment, mi amor,” he said with a wink as he handed me a fluffy towel. “I want to taste you first.”

I clutched the towel to my chest. Taste me?

But before I could ask, he crawled toward me like a feline on the prowl, his hungry gaze settling on the juncture between my legs. My thighs involuntarily spread as he licked those full lips.

Was he really going to eat me?

But then he dug his fingers into my flesh, spreading my legs wider before lapping up my sex with one long stroke of his tongue, his purr so deep and powerful, it felt like a vibrator on steroids.

Holy hex!

I was ready to come after one lick.

He licked me again, like a kitten lapping up milk, the vibration in his tongue setting every nerve ending on fire and making me swell like a balloon about to pop. Goddess, this beast didn’t just find my g-spot. He summoned it like a necromancer resurrecting the dead. And then just like an apex predator, he went in for the kill, sucking my swollen nub with a low, deep rumble while his tongue swirled across my slit before diving deep inside and pummeling my dripping sheath as if he owned it. I didn’t have time to warn him as I sucked in a gasp and exploded, the orgasm rolling through me with the force of an earthquake.

The cruel beast didn’t stop and let me savor the orgasm. No. He swirled his tongue around my nub until my heart felt ready to burst as I came again and again. After I’d come more times than I could count, I draped my arm across my forehead with a groan. My ferocious feline crawled up the length of my body, holding me close while I tried to catch my breath.

My first multiple orgasms, all from oral sex.

If this was what it felt like to be eaten by a cat of prey, Goddess make me a gazelle in my next life.

WHO WAS I TO SAY NO when my ravenous lion asked me to go to bed with him? Especially not when he promised more licking. If oral sex was an Olympic sport, this guy deserved a gold medal. Heck, he deserved a whole trophy case of medals. And I knew it was wrong to compare, but my ex-husband wouldn’t have even qualified to be on the Australian breakdancing equivalent of muff munching. So, yeah, I was eager to spend the night with my Latin lover.

Just like a perfect gentleman, Ric carried me to his bedroom and laid me on his massive, four-poster bed. I barely got a look at the furnishings, but from what I could tell, the room was grand, just like the rest of his house.

None of that mattered at the moment as my gaze centered on his golden lion eyes and those luscious full lips that had ravaged me so thoroughly. I thought I heard the sound of Latin guitar as he gave me another sultry look and slipped off his shorts.

My hand flew to my mouth when his wand sprung free. He was hung like, like, a lion! At first, I worried he wouldn’t be able to fit it inside me. I didn’t even know penises got that big. This guy was more than capable of reaching my g-spot. I only prayed he didn’t wreck it, though I loved a good challenge. Hmm. At the rate the moisture was gushing out of me, at least there would be plenty of lube for his jumbo jet to park inside my one-car garage.

He crawled up the length of my body like a predator going in for the kill, and I couldn’t help but quake beneath him as he let out a purr that turned my brain to mush and made my legs instinctively spread. His rather large appendage landed on my stomach like a falling bowling pin while he arched over me and took my lips in a heat-searing kiss. I tasted my essence on his tongue, mixed with something feral, and holy hex, I didn’t care if it was too big. We would make it fit.

I cried out as he broke the kiss far too soon, but then he trailed kisses down my neck and across my collarbone before he stopped to lavish each breast with love. I dug my hands into his hair, arching back while his tongue swirled around each peaked nipple, sending spirals of pleasure cascading through my body.

How had he made me so horny after all those orgasms? I knew he had to have put a spell on me, and I didn’t care, so long as he didn’t stop. But then my sex lion was on the prowl again, trailing kisses across my abdomen, before he traveled lower, and he practically face planted between my thighs.

I let out a groan, sinking into the silkiest sheets I’d ever felt, not caring that I was about to soak them, and let him work his tongue magic. He found my sweet spot instantly, swirling around and around my peaked nub until I was bucking against him, his purr against my flesh sending me soaring into oblivion. I sucked in a hiss when his tongue swirled inside me, and I surrendered to desire, eagerly awaiting more multiple orgasms.

My breaths came in shallow gasps as jolts of pleasure coursed through me, curling my toes in anticipation as his tongue swirled and swirled. And just when the first orgasm was about to hit, he released his hold on me.

I cried out in shock, grappling for him. Why did he stop?

He crawled up the length of my body, settling between my thighs, his thick protrusion pressed against my most intimate area, and then he took my hand in his, feathering his lips across my fingers, his eyes shining with lust.

I stared at him like a zombie in a trance, realizing I’d walk off the earth for him so long as he kept loving me.

“Do you take anything to prevent pregnancy?” he asked on a low, throaty growl.

“What?” I gaped at him, dumbfounded by lust, before nodding. “Oh, yes, yes, I took a prevention potion today.” One sip prevented pregnancy for a week, one of the benefits of being a witch who had excelled in chemistry and potions back in college.

His cockhead was positioned right at my entrance. If I squirmed beneath him, maybe it would slip in. I would be happy with just the tip. Or maybe halfway. Anything at all. Oh, who was I kidding? I desperately needed him to pound me into oblivion.

He arched a thick brow. “And your apprentice didn’t mix it up with a fertility potion?”

“No.” My heart fiercely pounded against my ribcage while I flexed my hips against him. If he would just slide it in. “I don’t let her go near those.”

He flashed a fanged grin, one that promised of a steamy, sleepless night. “Then may I make love to you, mi amor?”

His love. Oh, I could never get tired of hearing that. I dug my fingers into his round buttocks with a growl. “Yes! Please yes!”

His eyes flared and then he slid into me, one agonizing inch at a time. I sucked in a hiss, thinking my heart stopped at some point as he filled and stretched me. He was so very big, and the feeling was glorious. Heavens, I never wanted this night to end.

His eyes flared again, and his nose flattened as he let out a series of low catlike growls. For some reason I wasn’t afraid as I grasped his shoulders then cupped his face. He purred against my hand, brushing his lips across my palm. And then he slammed all the way into me, banging against my g-spot like a freight train smashing into a mountain.

A moan died in my throat as he slowly slid out and then rolled into me again, his hips flexing in a perfect rhythm while banging against my swollen sex and coaxing more moisture out of me. Goddess, he was about to earn another gold medal.

I knew I was going to be sore in the morning, but pain be dammed. The pleasure was worth it. I wrapped my ankles around his butt to give him better access. Our lips locked in a fiery kiss while he continued to roll into me. I moaned into his mouth, letting his flames consume me, not caring if I burned up in the conflagration.

He only had to bang against my sweet spot a few more times before we were both soaring into the heavens and crying out from the pleasure. He stilled with a roar, his cockhead spurting and pounding me like a drum just as the orgasm gripped me. It was like nothing I’d ever felt before, a punch to my cervix that had me spasming and tingling in all the right places.

And just when I thought we’d collapse in each other’s arms, he pounded my already battered and swollen sex until I was clawing at his back and more orgasms cascaded through me in a powerful deluge.

He had the stamina of an animal in heat as he continued to passionately make love to me well into the night. I didn’t know if it was his pheromones setting me off, but no matter how many orgasms he gave me, I couldn’t get enough.

We were covered in each other’s fluids and sweat by the time he rolled off me, taking me in his arms. My heart still pounded as I struggled to catch my breath, and all I could think of as I laid my head against his hard chest was how I’d never be able to make love to another man or beast without comparing him to my Latin lover.

He’d wrecked me. He’d completely wrecked me.