His arm circled her waist, and he lifted her up onto the counter again. Flint’s mouth covered hers, and he pumped his fingers into her. His thumb stroked her clit. She was so close to an orgasm.
“You need to hold on, pretty girl. I want to taste you coming on my tongue again,” he murmured.
Her body shook. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin under her ear. She held onto his arms, but he tugged downward, pulling her panties off and spreading her legs apart. One of his hands on her stomach, the other rubbed her clit harder.
He slid his head between her legs and sucked on her clit. Hard.
She thought she would come apart. Her back arched, and her hair brushed against the window behind her, her butt teetering on the edge of the counter.
“Hold on, Emma.” Flint moved her hands back to the edge of the counter.
She clenched his head between her knees, her body tightening around his finger, her core fluttering as he licked at her.
“Oh, oh, oh.” Emma gripped the counter. She was floating up already, and he hadn’t made her come yet. He lifted his head and grinned at her. And then it was like everything he’d done before hadn’t existed at all. He was everywhere. His tongue controlled every cell in her body. She shattered on his two fingers.
“Goddess.”
Flint held onto her leg like a child with a Mylar balloon at an amusement park.
“I was ready for you this time.” He laughed.
She hovered above him, her legs around his neck. Flint tugged her down his body until he had her lined up with his hard cock at her entrance. Her world was upside down. When he pushed into her, she slid out of his grasp. Up to the ceiling.
He had his hands on her shoulders, keeping her tethered to him. Her high continued as he thrust with force. His lips took hers. She tasted herself on him.
“You taste incredible,” he whispered, his breath hot against her chest. He let go of her shoulders, his hands skimming down her breasts. Without him holding on, she glided upward to her ceiling. Emma grasped onto his shoulders.
“Emma, fuck.” He pulled her back to him.
She didn’t know what she’d done, but gone was the grumpy male. His head was back, his eyes closed. His cock pulsed inside her.
“Flint, I . . .” They were both close.
He thrust again, and he shook. His muscles tightened, his hips jerked. Flint held onto her waist. Another thrust and he groaned out her name. She shattered around him again. Bursts of light circled them. Their magical energy covered them like a sheer fabric. Flint grabbed onto the counter, anchoring them to the ground, and the counter groaned and lifted away from the cabinet at one corner.
“Shit.” He let go, and they floated, turning in the air like a top. When Emma wrapped her legs around his waist and tucked her head into his neck, they picked up speed.
Their powers were vibrating against each other, and they started to rotate faster and faster.
Emma had never liked the spinning rides at Seven Banners amusement park, and her grasp on Flint changed from euphoric to panic with the fourth rapid rotation. They were whirling faster and faster. Like a sun catcher on a sunny day.
22
Emma’s legs clasped around his hips, and her hands were gripping at his shoulders for dear life. And while he’d never admit it, he gripped onto her tighter for himself. Tighter than he wanted to. Power coursed from both of them and blanketed the kitchen in a purple hue.
“Are you okay?” Flint asked.
“I get vertigo if I spin too much. I’m shit at the teacups.” Emma clung tighter onto his shoulders, her fingers digging into his biceps.
“Right, stop it then,” he grunted out.
“I’m not doing it.” She didn’t extract her claws from his skin.
“Well, I’m not doing it,” he growled. He did fine on the teacups, but they were spinning faster now. Her hair wrapped around them both. The spinning could stop anytime, and he’d be more than happy for it.
“It’s our powers. They’re spinning on their own happy selves. Goddess, make it stop.” Emma squeezed her legs around his hips, and they spun faster.
Which bothered him more, the spinning or the expletive “Goddess,” he was uncertain. But that word made him grumpier than rain on the night of a pack run.
They dropped to the ground. He growled.
“Wow.” Emma’s eyes were wide. Her legs hit the ground, and she loosened her grip on him.
Flint pursed his lips together, then hissed out a sigh. “Are you okay?”
“I will be. My stomach settles as fast as it starts moving, usually as soon as the movement stops. I’m horrible on a long car ride. Or the first night on a cruise ship.”
They stared at each other.
She took a step back, leaving her hand on his arm. “I’m still dizzy.”
“I’ve got you.” He held on to her waist. “Are you cold?” Without letting go of her, he grabbed the discarded T-shirt from the counter and pulled it over her head and down her chest, then helped her get her arms into the shirt. The spins for him had stopped, but she swayed lightly on the balls of her feet. A wave of tenderness came over him, and he kissed the top of her head.
Emma leaned into him and nuzzled her head into his chest, her chilled arms wrapped around his waist.
“You need to go back to bed.” He hadn’t meant to be there. Hudson had dropped him off at his little cottage in the woods, but Flint had ended up at Emma’s. His kitchen was so full of casserole dishes with names of the owners written on masking tape on each one that it smelled like a potluck dinner in the basement of the town hall. Flint had gotten thirty whole minutes of sleep before the nightmare started again. Flames licking at his feet, and not magical flames, but real ones. Hot and painful. Emma’s voice calling out. He’d woken up sweaty, with Penny whining at his side. Ten minutes later, he was trotting over the bridge and up the hill to Emma’s.
His wolf wasn’t going to let him go back home. “Emma,” he growled and picked her up, cradling her to his chest. He marched through the kitchen door to her living room. The room was stark compared to the bright yellow kitchen. The only furniture was a beige couch and a television mounted on the wall.
