Night Witch (Weatherstone College, #2)(72)

Tobias swung around to face me, eyes wide and glassy. “Well, butter my toast and call me breakfast. You’re unbelievable, Paisley.” He thrusted his thumb toward Logan. “Are you sure you want to shag this arsehole for the rest of eternity? I swear, my cock is much—” He didn’t get to finish because he was tackled against the metal wall. Tobias’s laughter turned breathless when Logan’s forearm lodged against his throat. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, mate. I w-was . . . kidding.”

Logan’s response was a growl. Then he pulled back enough to slam Tobias against the wall again. When he stepped away, he let the warlock slide to the ground.

“You asked for that,” Noah said, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

Another growling series of curses came from the spellcaster, and then I was in his arms. He opened a transport doorway in the next breath, taking us both through.

“See you at Weatherstone tomorrow, you cranky sod,” Tobias called cheerily. “We’ll deal with your father’s body and let Paisley’s family know you’re going to live. You’re welcome.”

“Fucker,” Logan grumbled, just as he closed the transport, leaving us standing alone in front of his farmhouse gates. My heart lifted at the sight, and I sucked in a long, slow breath, the scent of lavender filling my lungs. How a place I’d been to once could smell like home, I had no idea, but here we were. “Call your parents,” Logan said softly, handing me his phone. “Noah and Tobias will give them more details, but they should hear from you first.”

He was right, and I quickly dialed Mom’s number, relieved when she answered immediately.

“Mom, we broke the curse,” I said, no preamble. “I’m going to be okay.”

The relieved sob she let out told me how close to a breakdown she was. “Thank Selene,” she murmured, her words husky.

I spent a few more minutes quickly filling her in on what had happened, before adding that Noah and Tobias would be by soon with more information.

“We love you, Little Gem,” she said as we wrapped up the conversation.

Hearing Dad’s nickname for me had my throat so tight I could barely get words out. “I love you all too. Thank you. I’ll see you soon.”

When I hung up and handed Logan his phone back, he slid it into his pocket and cupped the back of my head. Our first kiss was heated, pent-up emotions spilling from me. By the time we pulled apart, my breaths were staggered and heavy.

“Come on, Precious,” he said, turning me toward the gate. “Let’s go home.”

To no one’s surprise, he knew exactly how I felt about this place. “I love this farm,” I said, reaching out to brush the gate. It opened at my touch, and I jumped back to look at Logan. “Did you open it?”

He shook his head. “It belongs to both of us. It’s been keyed to your magic since the moment you bloomed.”

My lips twitched, even as heat burned my eyes. “Stalker.”

He leaned over and kissed me again, harder, his fingers sliding under my hair as he possessively wrapped a hand around the back of my neck and pulled me closer. “For you, baby, always.”

We stumbled up the front path, kissing and touching, unable to keep our hands to ourselves.

“Fuck, Paisley,” Logan growled and hauled me into his arms, storming up to the porch and through the front door. Our lips met in another desperate kiss, our movements frantic as we drowned in each other. I clawed at his shirt, needing bare skin under my touch.

We didn’t make it upstairs to his room. Logan pressed me against the entrance wall, his magic disintegrating our clothes. As our bare skin slid together, the heat between us intensified until I ached. I thrust my hips on a sob against the hard planes of Logan’s stomach, my legs settling around his waist. Logan shifted my position higher to trace a burning path of kisses down my throat and across my tits. His tongue caressed my right nipple, biting into the sensitive peak. When I cried out, he made a satisfied sound that came deep from his chest. He moved on to the left, tormenting and teasing it too. When he bit down again, a ragged scream left me. “Please,” I begged. I had no idea what I was begging for, but I needed more.

“You taste like the Eternal Lands. Like forever,” Logan growled as his hand slipped between us and pressed against my clit. His thumb slid hard over the swollen bud and I was panting—fucking panting at the sensation. Slowly, destroying me with each stroke, he slid one finger through my dripping slit and inside. He added a second finger, fucking me harder. All the while, his thumb’s assault on my clit never eased.

I was lost to the sensation as our magic burned, and when his teeth closed around my nipple again, the pleasure exploded, and I came, screaming his name.

Power detonated from me, but Logan contained it, drawing the energy back into the heat between us. The walls of my pussy clamped around his fingers as I rode out the last of my orgasm, and I almost cried when he withdrew them—until he changed the angle of his hips and thrust into my center. The thick head of his cock slid in first, stretching me with a pleasurable burn.

Logan usually gave me a second to adjust, but he was too far gone today, thrusting again until he was seated balls-deep. It was almost too much to take, but as the pleasure edged out the pain, I decided I didn’t care. With Logan, pain amplified pleasure until I felt like I’d die from the sensation.