His hands go to the buttons of my suit jacket. I watch his fingers deftly undo my buttons. Then his hands slide back up to my shoulders. My jacket slides off and hits the floor by my ankles with a dull thud. I shiver.

His fingers are at my throat now. My tie disappears. Now he is undoing my shirt. Baring me to him. His clever fingers work steadily down and down. Down and down. Then they flow back up. Movements as graceful as any dancer's.

My shirt joins my jacket on the floor. His gaze rakes over my naked chest. I can feel the burn of it on my skin. His gaze leaves a trail of heat in its wake. His attention lingers on my nipples and they swell and pebble for him. He grins at that. Satisfaction dancing in his eyes.

His jacket pools by his feet. His tie is yanked off. I lick my lips as his agile fingers glide down his crisp white shirt. The cotton slides off and now I’m staring at a broad and very manly chest. Sculpted muscles. A healthy sun-kissed glow to his skin despite the time of year. A smattering of dark, coarse hair that I’d give anything to run my fingers through.

My husband is incredibly handsome.

Strong arms wrap around me and I’m pressed against wonderful muscles. Oh, my. Skin against skin is incredible. His lips find mine again and I take his kiss hungrily. My body presses against his as if it thinks it could possibly get any closer.

My thoughts spin away. All that remains is carnality and need. A deep and desperate hunger. I can feel the heat of my husband. I can feel the pulse of his heartbeat. His touch is everything that I crave.

Dimly, I’m aware of shoes, trousers and underwear being removed. My skin sliding against his skin. His hard cock is pressing against my stomach and it is driving me wild with desire. My magic is swelling and surging. It knows I need my husband to be inside of me, and it is impatient.

The kiss ends, and I suck in a breath. I blink as my surroundings take shape around me. Felford is half sitting, half lying on my bed, propped up by an abundance of pillows. I’m shamelessly straddling his lap. I’m sitting on my husband. And we are both utterly naked.

My lungs start to stutter. But wait. Why is he staring at me like that?

Realization hits me like a ton of bricks. His hand is on my naked back. I can feel an echo of his touch on the path his fingers just traced along a scar.

Oh.

“Your parents whipped you?” he asks. His eyes are bright. Horror and shock dancing with lust.

My stomach tries to heave. He didn’t know. He really hasn’t read my papers. My blemishes are disclosed and listed as they should be.

“Your own parents,” he whispers.

“Only my father,” I clarify.

Sadness sweeps in like a tide and washes away all the other emotions in his eyes. Oh gods. I don’t want him to feel sorry for me.

“I was a terrible child,” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “I don’t believe that.”

“It’s true!” I insist. “I’d spin in circles instead of standing still and I refused to speak until I was four.”

Felford’s face pales. His eyes widen. Damnit, he looks more horrified, not less.

“I can put a nightgown on if it bothers you?” I offer. The scars are barely visible to the naked eye. It is only the raised edge of some that can be felt. My family’s healer is competent.

Anger flashes across Felford’s handsome face. I flinch and lower my gaze.

“For fuck’s sake Luci, I’m angry because the people that were supposed to love you, hurt you. I don’t care what the scars look like or feel like. I care that they happened!”

I risk a peek up at him. Anger is twisting his face. Despite his words, I know he is angry at me. I’ve offended him somehow, and I don’t know how to fix it. I wish I wasn’t so stupid.

“Hey, hey, Luci. It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

His fingers are brushing away tears that I hadn’t realized were falling. Then he smooshes me against his chest. I’m trembling and shaking.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

He sounds calm, but I can hear his heartbeat. He takes in a deep breath and it sounds pained.

“Luci, you are very ripe. I need to empty you. I’m so sorry.”

I sniff and nod my head against his wonderful chest. “I know.” I know my place. My purpose. My duty.

“I’m going to kiss you again, okay? You like being kissed, don’t you?”

“Yes, please,” I whisper.

The world spins as he moves me. Now we are lying side by side, facing each other. He smiles softly. His hand gently cups my face. As soon as his lips touch me, fireworks ignite in my soul. They explode through my mind, blasting away every single one of my thoughts. There is only Felford and his lips upon me.

My magic roars into furious life. It has run out of patience. It is a wild thing that will be a captive no longer.

Arousal burns. Desire flares. I am fire and need. I am whimpering and writhing. Felford is saying something, but words no longer mean anything to me. I am magic and I need to be free.

A cool oiled finger eases into me. I’m keening. Bucking. Writhing. It is a taunt and a tease of what I truly want. I want his cock. The hot length of him. The breadth. I need to be stretched and stuffed. Filled deep.

I need him to fuck me. Over and over again. Thrust into me and never, ever stop.

Instead, I get another finger. I wail in dismay. I’m burning with need. Two fingers become three and it is still not enough.

He is making soothing noises. But I need his cock, not his words. He is ice against my fire and I need him to extinguish my flames.

Finally, I feel his cock against my entrance. My hips move. I impale myself on him, taking him greedily. He cries out in surprise and then in glee. I hear my name, then he is rolling me over. His body moves. It slams into me and pushes me into the mattress. I scream my joy as he rails me.

His strong, fast thrusts fill me with euphoria and ecstasy. I’m screaming again. I’m clawing at the sheets. My body convulses and nearly bucks him off me, but my hole clamps down tight on his cock. Holding on to him.

My orgasm is a supernova. Lit by my magic. It is magnificent and all-consuming. My husband takes it all. He absorbs the fury of my magic and puts out the fire destroying me.

I sink gratefully against the mattress, and spin off into sleep.

Chapter twenty-one

Luci

Idon’t want to wake up. It’s far too comfortable in bed. The mattress is soft. My pillow is very firm and warm. My leg is slung over something muscular.

Oh my. I scramble backwards and off the bed with a yelp. Luckily the bedding comes with me, so I cover myself with a sheet as I climb to my feet and stare at Felford. Morning sunlight is streaming around the curtains, casting him in a beautiful light. His lightly bronzed skin looks delicious against the white sheets. And as he hasn’t a stitch of clothing on, there is an awful lot of skin to admire.

He stirs. Yawns and stretches as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. Watching his long, lean body move is making my mouth go dry. His eyes fix on me sleepily. Strands of his dark hair are falling into his face, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“You’re here,” I say dazedly.