~14~
It already wastearing him apart. And with considerable chagrin, Gabriel made note of his own hypocrisy—that he didn’t want Nic to know just how much. The wants of the magic, as she put it, pounded through his blood, demanding and possessive.Familiars don’t run around without their wizards,she’d told him once, and he suddenly and viscerally understood why. He’d been out the door and on his way to find Nic before he even realized he’d decided to. Saying he’d missed her had been such a bland way to describe how profoundly something in him had raged to have her nearby.
And when he’d seen another wizard with his hands on her…
Well, he understood Nic’s awful tale of the wizard Sylus and how he’d reacted to the abduction of his familiar. If someone harmed Nic, Gabriel could see himself laying waste to all the world to avenge her. He could’ve cheerfully killed Asa on the spot, convinced he wouldn’t regret it. It was only some appalled remnant of his former self that had stood back, reining in the ferocious desire to destroy. It had only been to prove something to himself that he decided to offer Asa the contract. Gabriel could control himself. Hewouldcontrol himself.
And if he failed… well, it would be good to have someone around who would stand up to him if he lost himself in the insatiable craving for Nic. She still framed his face with her slender hands, the essence of wine and roses filtering from her, heady and delicious as she gazed at him with eyes brilliant as emeralds. “What can I do to ease you, wizard?” she asked softly.
Calling him that, as they’d established in the arcanium, had the effect she no doubt intended. That slavering part of himself leapt to answer, images popping into his mind of what he wanted from her, the ways he wished to consume and dominate her. To mark every fingertip of her skin as his. Nic read it in him, too, her lush lips curving in sensual answer. “Take, wizard,” she purred. “Have.”
This, at least, he could give into without a fight. Picking her up, he carried her to the old desk, setting her on it and pushing between her spread thighs. Then he buried his face in her bosom, inhaling the scent of her skin, the heated flesh in the delicious cleft between the round globes of her breasts. Restraining the urge to bite, he held himself to kissing her velvety skin, laving the newly healed and once-again flawless skin of her throat, even as she whispered encouragements, her fingers twining in his hair as she arched her back to offer him more and more. Pushing up her skirts, he found the enticingly soft skin of her inner thighs—and the slick, heated core of her sex.
She gasped, crying out as he pushed the lacy lingerie aside, sliding his fingers into her. Enjoying her trembles and shudders of need, he stroked a finger into her, tantalizing her with the ball of his thumb. Playing her like an instrument who made music just for him. That thought salved the beast inside, and—with delicate precision—he sipped a bit on her slowly replenishing magic. Not enough to make an impact on her recovery; just enough to give himself a taste. To abate the craving. Not to feast, but to wean himself away from needing it all.
And now that he knew more, now that he was paying better attention, he noticed how the sensual teasing fed the fire in her, her magic intensifying, blooming and growing richer. Caressing her to the point of climax, he backed off, waiting for her to calm before he edged her up to that point again. Never quite letting her go over the edge, though she began to beg for it. Her pleas appeased the possessive need in him, too. Far safer than the other fantasies that occurred to him, darker methods for making her cry and plead with him.
So, despite her entreaties, the growing desperation of her urgent mewls, when he felt the ping of another wizard’s arrival, he withdrew his hand, replacing the lingerie to cover her silky flesh and lifting his head to kiss her cheek. “New arrivals,” he explained when she gave him a bewildered look.
She clutched at him, fingers fierce as claws. “We can finish first.”
Surprised at himself at how much he enjoyed this rush, he kissed her deeply, loving how she yielded so utterly to him. When she melted, he nimbly extracted himself from her grip, shaking his head, hard-pressed not to laugh at her outraged expression. “It wouldn’t be polite to make them wait,” he explained, doing his best to sound earnest.
“You are Lord Phel,” she pointed out. She looked incredibly seductive, perched on the desk with her skirts rucked up around her waist, sex gleaming pink and swollen through the lace of her lingerie. “They can wait for your pleasure.”
Unable to restrain the grin, he tapped her on the nose, aware that she’d scent herself on his fingers. “So can you, familiar.”
She gaped at him, growing understanding in her eyes. “You left me hanging on purpose.”
“Yes.” He held out his hand for her. “Arrange your gown and come along.”
Lips pressed into a mulish expression, she scooted off the desk, doing as he bade, though she muttered viciously under her breath, “This is not playing fair.”
“Isn’t it?” he asked blandly. “This is what you’ve been demonstrating to me, that erotic play between us replenishes the magic. Climax releases it. Therefore arousal without climax builds your magic without releasing it again. I’m following my wizard’s instincts, as repeatedly instructed to do. Am I wrong?”
“You are correct,” she bit out with a glare. “But you can’t tease me like that and not follow through.”
“In point of fact, I can. I just did. And you have more magic now.” Sensing that replenishing in her made him feel immensely better. She might be irritated with him, but he’d take that over leaving her drained of what made her so vividly alive.
Putting her hand in his, she began walking with him. “I’ll just take care of it myself, then. Easy enough.”
“No.” He halted, giving her a stern look, enjoying the way her eyes darkened to emerald in response, a faint blush gracing her cheeks. “You won’t. You’ll wait.”
“Until you say so?” She lifted her chin defiantly, but her words were breathy, the challenge arousing to her.
He leaned in, inhaling her wine-dark magic, intoxicating and rich. “Until we’re in the arcanium,” he breathed against her cheek, taking her earlobe gently in his teeth, so she moaned softly and shuddered in response. His own aching arousal suddenly felt unbearable. Hours and hours until they could dispense with all of thesepeopleand be alone together.
“I’ve created a monster,” she observed in a hoarse voice, not sounding all that dismayed.
“I am ever your eager pupil,” he agreed.
She slipped her free hand between them, clasping his hard cock through his pants, squeezing a shudder out of him in return. “Same goes, then,” she said. “If I have to suffer, so do you. It will only build your native magic, and it’s good discipline,” she added with a sweet smile.
Cupping her cheek, profoundly aware of how her fire billowed in his heart, tender and fierce, he nodded soberly. “Done. Fair is fair.”
Despite his enduringsexual frustration—kept at a low simmer by Nic’s proximity, her lush figure so gorgeously flattered by the magically fitted gown, her ample breasts tantalizingly displayed—the rest of the day flew past. More wizards, some with familiars, others alone, arrived with regularity. Sage and Quinn worked at a frenzied rate, installing glass in the rooms as the incoming guests selected them.
Nic actually cried out in delight when the Ratisbon wizard arrived to create furniture. An elegant man with an equally well-dressed familiar, he sniffed at the manse, pronouncing it musty but with excellent bones. He immediately rejected the Ophiel wizardling who arrived, saying that he’d personally request an Ophiel friend of his that he happened to know was dreadfully unhappy in her current contract. Managing to be both scrupulously polite to Gabriel and didactic at the same time, he instructed Gabriel on the amount to offer to buy out her contract and that he should do so immediately.