Sexy.
“When are you going to learn that you’re not always right?” he snarls at me as he moves to my side and studies the crack that I’ve shoved my hand into. Now that there’s a bit of light on the situation, I can see where I actually pushed my hand in—part of the crack is bigger at the top, and Ben quickly guides my hand up to the larger part of the gap, and then I’m free. “When are you going to ever listen, Reggie?”
“I listen,” I hiss back at him, rubbing my aching wrist. “What makes you think I don’t listen?”
“Because I tell you things that are for your own good, and you just charge ahead and do them anyhow,” he bellows in my face. “You’re going to get killed!”
“It’s a well, not a pool of lava, Ben Magnus. Don’t be so damn dramatic.”
His nostrils flare dangerously as he glares at me. Don’t stare at his mouth, Reggie. Don’t stare at his kissable pink mouth, Reggie. Don’t—
I glance at his mouth. Shit. It is very kissable and full, and the wet hair slicking his face is only adding to how it stands out against his pale skin. Why am I all turned on right now? We’re both at the bottom of a well on a sex witch’s property, and Ben is raging at me for no reason at all.
“I was trying to help your aunt,” I point out. “And speaking of pigheaded moves, why didn’t you go and get Gwen like I told you to?”
Ben’s eyes flare with anger. He leans into my face, trying to intimidate me. “Because we have to stay together. The obfuscation spell would follow me and leave you open if I went to get her.”
“It would only take five minutes,” I yell back at him, standing taller as he gets in my face. I’m not afraid of him. I’m horny. He’s so big and beautiful and protective. God, I love that he’s so protective. He cares about what happens to me. He doesn’t want to lose me. That’s as heady and appealing as his sexy exterior.
“Five minutes could be the difference between life and death, Reggie,” he snarls, looming over me. “And I’m not going to fucking lose you like I’m losing Aunt Dru—”
I grab his face between my hands and kiss him.
Ben stiffens against me for a moment, taken by surprise. I kiss him again so he doesn’t mistake what I want. My blood is singing in my veins, and it doesn’t matter that we’re down a well, or that we’re supposed to be enemies, or that I’m working as his familiar as we try to help his aunt. All I know is that after the kiss we had last night, I want more from him.
I want to kiss him all over. I want to devour him whole. I want to see every inch of his pale skin and watch his eyes widen with arousal when I touch him.
I open my mouth to tell him these things, but then Ben springs into action. With a groan, he drags me against him and turns us. My back hits the stone wall of the well, and then I’m pinned between his big body and the well and Ben kisses me back. His mouth is hot and hard and questing against my own, his tongue plunging into my mouth in a silent claim.
I moan, hiking one leg up around his hips as he takes over the kiss, his mouth slanting over mine. Ben kisses like a demon, his mouth and tongue frantic against mine. His hand skates up and down my side as I cling to him, and then he palms one of my small breasts. I cry out against his mouth, arching against his hand.
“Mine,” he growls into my ear like some sort of animal, and it makes me instantly wet.
His urgent mouth kisses down my jaw as I claw at his back, my fingers tearing at his soaked clothing. He pinches my nipple, sending a needy whimper through me, and then his hand slides lower, to between my thighs. My jeans are heavy and thick with water, and I can’t feel him the way I want to. Frustrated, I capture his mouth in another rough kiss even as I reach between us and undo the snap on my jeans.
Ben’s big, warm hand immediately slides inside.
“Mine,” he whispers again, the word against my skin. His thick fingers move down into my panties. “You headstrong, insane, gorgeous creature.”
I find his mouth again, hungry for more, and when his fingers slide through the cleft of my pussy and find my clit, I cry out against his mouth. He starts to rub me in just the perfect way, small, light circles around that sensitive spot, completely at odds with the wild kissing we’ve been doing. I rock against his hand, desperate. “Ben,” I pant. “Oh god, Ben. Please. More.”
“You want to come on my hand?” he purrs, all dark and sexy and gorgeous. “You want me to make you feel good, Reggie?”
Do I ever. I ride his grip, lost in pleasure as his mouth moves over my neck, kissing and licking everywhere, nipping at my skin as he works my clit like an absolute maestro, his touch going from gentle and slow to faster and more urgent along with my need. When I come, it’s explosive. I shudder against his hand, rocking against his grasp as he pleasures me and whispers dark things against my skin.
When I finally come down, I let out one last whimper as he kisses my lips, his movements gentle now. “Reggie,” he murmurs. “Headstrong, wild Reggie. You’re going to make me lose my mind.”
I slide my arms around his neck and snuggle against him as he presses a kiss to my cheek, his nose brushing against my skin. His hand is still firmly entrenched in my panties, and he absently caresses my skin, as if he doesn’t want to let me go. Like Gollum with his precious, I think, and chuckle to myself.
“What was all that for?” he asks, voice soft and husky. “You thought you were going to die down here and decided to have one last hurrah with a murdering warlock?”
I smack his shoulder. “Don’t kill my post-orgasm buzz.” He rubs his nose against mine, still lost in a haze of need, and I nuzzle up against him, kissing that sinful lower lip of his. “I don’t know. I just . . . Maybe I still like you despite everything. Maybe I wanted to touch you.” I smooth a hand down the front of his wet chest. “Maybe I didn’t like the way Gwen was looking at you, and it made me want to claim you.”
He stiffens a little and pulls back to look at me. “You didn’t like the way Gwen was looking at me?”
“No,” I say stubbornly. “All that calling me a child while she was hitting on you? I wanted to claw her eyes out. Still do.”
Ben groans, and then he’s kissing me frantically again. “You’re jealous.”
I wriggle against him, because his hand is skimming spots a little too sensitive now. “So? What’s wrong with jealous?”
“No one’s ever jealous over me.” The thought seems to turn him on like crazy. His hands are all over me again, his hips driving the bulge in his pants between my thighs to press against my pussy and . . . damn. Ben Magnus is packing some intense heat under all that dark, moody clothing.
He loves my jealousy. Loves that I’m possessive of him. And even though this is absolutely the worst time and place, I can’t seem to stop touching him. I slip my feet to the muddy ground and slide out from under him, then press my hands to his chest, backing him against the wall. Ben watches me as I run my hands over his damp sweater, my thumbs moving over his nipples. His eyes are like hot coals, and I love the intensity on his face.
I grab the front of his jeans and undo the buttons there, then shove my hand into the space I’ve made, searching for his cock. He made me feel good, and I want to do the same for him.
The hard, cloth-covered bulge I uncover is even more impressive under my hand than it felt through his jeans. I saw a lot of him in the crystal ball, but like in my rearview mirrors, objects are apparently larger than they appear. “Good lord, you’ve got quite the equipment,” I whisper, even as I drag my palm down the length of him. “So big. I should have known that you’d be size appropriate, but no wonder Gwen’s chasing you.”
“Reggie,” he pants, tilting his head back against the rock, his gaze locked on me.