Married (34 page)

Georgie narrowed her eyes and shoved the small spear of hurt back toward the depths of her soul, where it wouldn’t reveal itself to him. “What a hardship I must be for you, because I will never roll over and simply let you have your way. I will be Mother, I will lead my Family.”

“I’m not Adam. I’m a patriarchal man. You are a challenge, my love, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I want all of you, Georgie, not just this.” His features tightened as his hand slipped over her belly, fingers spearing into her curls to find her heated folds. He circled her opening with a tight motion before pushing against her entrance.

The pressure invaded every part of her awareness. He didn’t enter, just rested his fingers against her firmly. Georgie felt her body soften and heat, an urgent bolt of lust licking over her intimate flesh. He’d teased her too often without release lately.

She licked her lips. “What more can I give? I’m here, I’ve asked for your help, and I’ve even let you give me orders.”

“I want your full trust. I want you to admit you love me.”

In Poland, he had
informed
her that she loved him. He had informed her that no other man would ever measure up to him and how he made her feel. Admitting Silviu was right would tip the scales in his favor, hand over to him all her power in a pretty package. Whether he loved her or not, he was perfectly capable of ruthlessly using her emotions against her to rule her and her Family, and that was something Georgie could never allow.

Vulnerability strangled her.

So she arched against him, determined to distract. She shifted her breasts against the dark mat of hair covering his chest until her nipples peaked and pulsed, and spread her legs, giving his questing fingers better access as her body eased around his teasing touch. She arched her belly against his cock and licked his collarbone.

And she hedged with all the diplomacy she had within her. “You’re my betrothed, my Magic Match. We are bound forever, Silver. What I have with you is without compare.”

His nostrils flared, his eyes glowed. She knew in that instant that he understood exactly what she was doing, and he allowed her to do it. His head lowered, his lips finding hers before he licked into her mouth and silenced a conversation with no resolution acceptable to either of them.

Georgie opened for him sweetly, admitting to herself that no one could trump what he gave her. From the time they were children, he’d captured her senses and flung them to the far horizons. He made her feel alive, he sent her soaring, he gave her pleasure. Long before they were old enough to understand what they shared, they did so anyway, without thought for the consequences.

It was easy when they were younger. Family politics were a distant thing being hammered out by Madeleine and Silviu’s father. Loyalty was a thing they both took for granted, too immature to understand that such things shifted, both utterly confident they would be an integral part of their Family forever, even as they were both being groomed for bigger things and more fluid aspirations.

Their terrifying yet enduring bond had been forged in a moment they weren’t supposed to have shared. That was their true crime. A crime of connection and switched allegiances.

Georgie caught Silviu’s tongue between her lips and sucked, wishing the innocence of their first sexual experience with each other still existed. A wailing chunk of her soul cried for her surrender, demanding she give in to him, but her rational self had been tempered by years of devoted Family service and warned of the danger he presented.

They were no longer children and both had ulterior motives. Some they shared. Some they’d been raised and trained to aid each other with. Some they kept locked inside them—deep, where the other couldn’t go.

But Georgie could give Silviu her body. He’d proven he was strong enough to bring her pleasure and take his own without violating Madeleine’s command for celibacy. And he felt so good against her, safe and solid, warm and slick from the sweat beginning to shine on his skin. His fingers rode her flesh with deliberate pressure, no more teasing, just pleasing. Her fingers kneaded his shoulders and her belly slid against his cock.

Simple, straightforward pleasure, ulterior motives dropped for the moment, arguments put on hold until they were safely out of the Ngozi snake pit. Mutual need and shared satisfaction. Georgie twined her tongue with his and willed him to agree with her unspoken demand.

Silviu cupped her bottom and hauled her up until she could wrap her legs around his waist. Georgie threw her arms around his neck and buried her fingers in the dark silk of his hair, arching against him until his cock slid between her folds. He was thick and hot, making room for himself as her body wept for a closer touch.

He was demanding, she was demanding. They both took their time but every touch was deliberate and provocative—Silviu’s fingers moved between her thighs with intent, Georgie brushed her nipples against his chest with determination. He was battling to push past her barriers, and she was fighting to keep it purely physical for as long as possible.

Between them, a conflagration grew. Silviu traced Georgie’s folds with a firm pressure that had her pussy tightening, wishing she could have his cock pushing deep. He rubbed her clit, gripping it until it swelled and hummed, a miniature storm snarling through her lower abdomen. She grasped his hair and sealed their mouths, mimicking the motion of his fingers with her tongue.

His hips arched into her, sliding his cock through her slick heat until the flared head caught on her clit and a tiny detonation of need stole her breath. Electricity built, fed by the friction of their flesh, sizzling her nerves from hip to hip. An ache took root deep inside her, flexing against her muscles and raking her inner walls with wet craving. Sensation shook and shuddered and launched into the base of Georgie’s spine, striking out at her belly and kicking against her resolve to hold her secrets safe from the man who embodied temptation.

Silviu pulled his mouth from hers with a harsh groan, pulling her arms from his neck and pushing her back to the mattress. He smoothed his hands down the lean length of her thighs until he grasped her knees, shifting her until she was spread before his sight.

His eyes were liquid mercury, the dangerous expression in them warning Georgie that she couldn’t hide forever. For now, he was content with revealing the secrets of her dripping pussy, but later he would dive deeper and demand so much more.

Georgie knew, whether she was ready or not, he wouldn’t let her hold back for much longer.

Silviu caught his cock in his fist, directed the tip over her clit, around and around, the heat and texture of his flesh stealing pieces of her mind. Thick and slick from her honey, the crest lodged between her folds. Silviu shifted, slid down to tuck against her entrance.

Need swamped her, stole her ability to breathe, to move, to think. All Georgie could do was feel. The bulbous head and her entrance rippling against it, subtly sucking it in. The delicate ring of muscle shuddering and stretching. Silviu’s invasion became imperative to her sanity. He nudged in, just enough her body knew he was there, but nowhere deep enough to satisfy.

Her pussy melted around the very edge of his tip. His face was hard, all sharp planes and angles. Georgie tried to drag her common sense from its hibernation as she forced her body to stillness. If he pushed in, she would lose her Family inheritance.

Just then, she wondered if she cared.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Silviu

Her pussy scalded the very tip of Silviu’s dick. Georgie was tight around him, deliciously small and wet. She was arching with such subtle jerks of her hips he doubted she even knew she was doing it. Her eyes were wide and dark, dazed, her legs shaking around his hips without control. She had none—he’d stolen it from her.

A dark voice in Silviu’s head whispered that Madeleine would never know. She was sick, battling a magical attack that left Georgie free enough to do as she wished without the old woman interfering. She’d had no right to demand celibacy of either of them, let alone rest Georgie’s inheritance on their ability to abstain.

The same dark voice cackled a warning. He could have Georgie now, but he would lose her later.

It took every molecule of willpower Silviu had to pull away from the hot, tempting depths pouring honey over the head of his cock. His shaft jerked in his fist, protesting with a spike of painful need that squeezed up his spine and punctured his lungs. Silviu began to shake. He closed his eyes and bent his head, desperately pulling in air, reminding himself that later he would have everything he’d ever wanted.

He was used to sacrifice. But it had never been this hard.

“Silver?” Georgie shifted, sliding her legs from his waist, slowly and awkwardly moving to her knees. Her eyes were too big, her cheeks flushed, her chest heaving. She sounded confused.

“You have no idea,” his voice was raw enough to scrape his vocal cords, “how much I want you. I want to sink into you and feel you close around me, sweet and tight. I need to feel you coming around my dick, screaming, losing your mind.”

A shiver went through her. Georgie reached for him, closing her soft hand around his length and stroking gently. She watched as his cock flexed. Silviu covered her fingers, applying pressure until her hold was pure fucking torture, dragging along the length with a perfection that was sure to kill him.

She shuffled forward, her knees spreading and pressing his leg before one lean thigh slid against the outside of his. She sat back on her heels and stroked him again, base to tip. She caught the head in her palm, gently rotating over the most sensitive part of him until Silviu struggled to breathe.

“That’s where I want you.” He almost didn’t hear her over the pounding of his heart. Her voice was a mere whisper. “I want you inside me, but I need to wait. I need to be Mother.”

He accepted that. A sharp blade of irritation cut through him, but he understood. Georgie was raised to lead her Family—for her own safety she had no choice—but it was more than that. A leader had to lead, or they would always feel incomplete.

Silviu couldn’t be the one who denied her that right. If he did, the fragile emotions connecting them would snap and tear. Whatever she felt—and he was convinced it was love—would turn dark and resentful.

“So we wait.” The words were dragged from the deepest parts of him, burning his throat as they emerged. His heart twisted and his balls protested with a vicious twinge. “I can wait, so long as you touch me now, and give me the right to touch you.”

Her gaze finally lifted from his cock. Her hand tightened and she licked her lips, searching his eyes for a long moment before leaning toward him, tilting her head to put her lips temptingly close to his. She was so much shorter than him he still needed to dip his head to brush his mouth over hers.

He felt her lips move. “You have the right to touch me, Silver. I want you to touch me.”

“Not just now,” he pressed. “For all time, anywhere and everywhere. Not just when you’re naked, but even in a crowded room. If I want to show you affection, you will allow it.”

In public, Georgie would take his arm, but she would never reach for his hand. She would never smooth her palm over his shoulder in a quick, loving caress and she would shake him off if he tried, determined to keep others from seeing the extent of their connection. They looked like a couple who would make a strong match, but still retained distance between them. Power and politics.

Silviu spoke again as she held her silence. He pushed the words past his need, forced his brain to concentrate past the firm pressure she exerted on his dick. “I want people to know you’re mine. I
need
it, love. I need you to stop holding so much back from me. I need you to show the world that you belong to me. That you trust me.”

“Do you belong to me, Silviu? Do you trust me?”

“I have belonged to you since my father signed the betrothal contract with Madeleine.” He gasped as her other hand cupped his balls. He caught her shoulders. “I cemented the bond when I was seventeen and touched you for the first time. Your absence was an ache in my gut, Georgeanne. In my soul.”

“Everyone already knows we’re betrothed. They know we’ll marry.” Her fingers stilled on his body and she shook her head. Her liquid eyes told him she had failed to make sense of his request.

“I want them to know you’re mine in every way.” He pressed his advantage, ruthlessly manipulating her sluggish wits, gritting his teeth and shoving back the raging lust that shook his spine. His control was thin, though, and he couldn’t stop his magic from rising, twining with his words and snaking out over her skin.

He immediately felt the Bane barrier. Supple and strong, bending around his magic in fluid protection—it wasn’t just a wall, but a sentient power that adapted easily to the demands placed upon it. It rolled beneath his influence like a storm-tossed ocean, sucking on his magic and drawing it deep.

Georgie’s eyes narrowed. “What did you just do?”

The power Silviu wielded doubled with the addition of hers and catapulted back to him after bouncing off her imperviousness. Him and her—two halves of the same rare power, the stuff of myths and legends. The heat of Silviu’s desire exploded into a raging flash-fire, surging through them both. Georgie rose on her knees, head tipping back as her fingers tightened on his cock. Silviu snarled and sent his hands skating over her chest.

“Georgeanne.” He cupped her breasts, ran his thumbs over her rigid nipples.

“You want to claim me,” she gasped. She arched into his touch, the muscles of her belly flickering along the center line, ribs to navel. “Fine, but only if I get to claim you, too. I won’t have everyone think you control me.”

“No more than a mere mortal could control the ocean’s tide.”

An apt analogy. No witch, no coven, no Family could contain the ocean. It was too vast, too elemental, like the need that raged and snapped in Silviu’s body, in his soul. His need pushed past his tenuous hold on it, snarling through his blood with Georgie’s capitulation.