A Bite of Magick Read online

  “Yeah, and I’ll probably ask again,” she drawled, clutching at his bulging biceps as they thickened beneath her fingers, his beast still stretching to life within his skin. “What can I say? You really do it for me.”

  Té thought he might have laughed, but it was hard to say for certain, with his voice so coarse and guttural.

  But he was so beautiful it was breathtaking. His skin had gone a deep, dark, mesmerizing bluish-black, eyes gleaming down at her like mercury—molten silver—fascinating in their beauty. A fine pelt of soft, short fur covered his arms and legs, his chest bare, rippling with muscles as he ground into her, pulsing against her clit, killing her with the pleasure. His hair was still long, ears tipped with wicked little points, canines gleaming, though his face still retained his human shape. Those long incisors gleamed dangerously behind his parted lips, making him look like a sexy-as-sin vampire come to life. She smiled up at him, breath caught at the wonder of all that he was, and the perfection…the sheer longing of the smile he returned, curled her toes in savage delight.

  He stared down at her, his eyes gleaming like the painful flash of metal in the hot sunlight—the animal reveling in the feel of her beneath them. His claws dug into the bedding, fabric ripping, and his mouth attacked hers with all the lust and feral passion of the beast, drunk on the powerful emotion of the man. He pulled her into his mouth, sucked her down his throat, as if her life were drawn through the rapacious, wicked demands of his lips and tongue and teeth.

  Sharp teeth. Deadly and dangerous, piercing her lip with the utmost care so he could drink her down his throat into the aching, greedy depths of his belly. Té cried out in hunger and ecstasy, and Kieran swallowed the sound, craving more, wanting her screaming with pleasure. She was warm and sweet, like liquid lust, a heady flavor that sang to his heart, thickening his cock to the point of pain.

  With a snarl, he ripped his mouth from hers, his lips red with her blood, and Té stared up at him with her mouth open, neck arched, breath panting in sharp gasps as his body continued to drive her higher and higher. The thick, plunging strokes surged ever deeper, reaching parts of her she’d never known existed, until it felt as if he lived in the fiery, sizzling liquid center of her womb.

  “Watch,” he growled in a low, rumbling rasp.

  She lifted up on her elbows, taking in the intimate, erotic sight of her wolf’s beautiful cock fucking her, moving in and out of her wet, pink little slit. It was intoxicating—the dark, veined flesh pushing, stretching her delicate entrance so impossibly wide, her glistening juices drenching them both, and the humid air filled with the wet, slick, slapping sounds of an incredible, powerful fuck.

  Kieran looked with her, watching the pink, wet flesh of her cunt quiver as he drilled into it with his throbbing cock, giving it to her as hard as he dared. Then he fastened his avid gaze onto the pebbled tips of her lush, swaying breasts, her nipples as plump and pink as ripe little berries.

  “What are you trying to tell me, beautiful?” she asked around a slow, knowing smile. “What do you want?”

  A low growl rumbled in his throat, and he looked down at the sopping wetness of her penetrated cunt, then fixed his gaze hungrily upon those sweet, bouncing tits once again.

  Té smiled up at him, then slipped her fingers between their bodies, down between her widespread legs, and dragged the slender digits through the rich juices spilling from her body, her cool fingers brushing the blistering heat of his cock as it pistoned in and out of her. When they were nice and slick, she brought her hand up to her chest and slowly painted the trembling tips of her breasts with her cream, his silver eyes following every soft stroke. When they were shiny and wet, she stopped, lifting her fingers to his beautiful mouth, pressing them between his silken lips.

  He sucked the honeyed juices from her flesh, chest rumbling, eyes narrowed with a hunger that went beyond sex, to something deeper and erotically thrilling. “So good,” he snarled, looking as if he’d like nothing more than to take a big ol’ bite out of her.

  But Té knew exactly what he wanted.

  Placing her hands beneath her breasts, she palmed them, lifting the swaying mounds up in offering. “Eat, Kieran. I know you want it.”

  His cock slammed into her so hard it jerked another startled cry from her tender throat, and he quickly lowered his head, pulling one breast into the biting heat of his mouth, wrapping his tongue around the juice-painted tip, suckling her as if he’d draw her straight into his belly. Her back arched, carnal screams of raging pleasure ripping from her throat as he ate at her breast, his cock hammering her into a building orgasm that felt as if it would tear her apart. And when it finally came, when he latched onto the other nipple, pulling the entire breast between his jaws and allowed his teeth to pierce the firm, silky flesh, her warm blood spilling into his mouth, she exploded, her cunt squeezing down like a hot little clamp, milking his pounding cock.

  He drove into her harder, intensely powerful, pounding her into the mattress, until she should have been ripped and bleeding from the force, and yet she took him, the orgasm pounding through her system so violently it felt like death. He was so blissfully hot…so wonderfully wide…the long, thick heat of his cock cramming into her clenching depths over and over—the aggressive, grinding motion of his hips working him into her suctioning depths again and again. The bed screeched against the wall and wooden floor, the scraping noise punctuated by their combined shouts and laboring struggles for air, a symphony of sound that resembled a battlefield of lust, tempered only by love. He rode her without mercy, and she took him with a craving equal to his own, reveling in the carnal bliss of being so utterly fucked with no control by the man she loved with all that she was—with everything.

  The long muscles of his biceps tightened as he lifted away from her, the liquid silver of his eyes a roiling flame as he looked down at their joined bodies, watching the beautiful, erotic sight of his dark, vein-bulged cock spearing into the tight little hole of her pulsing cunt—her sweet, pink lips bare and glistening as her cum slipped free—stretched to an obscene extreme—and yet, taking everything that he had.

  “Té,” he cried out, his voice jagged and low, more beast than man.

  “Kieran,” she sobbed, the intensity of her orgasm going on and on, until she could do nothing but ride the thundering wave of pleasure with utter abandon.

  “Té…I…hell—”

  And then she smiled up at him, her beautiful face glowing, flushed with love, and Kieran felt as if he would shatter from the rush of wonder spilling through his thrusting body. “It’s okay, baby,” she whispered. “I love it. I love you.”

  “Ah, Saephus, I’m going to come. I’m going to fill you so fucking full.”

  And he did. With one final impaling stroke that lifted her hips and back off the bed, he rammed into her and his dick exploded, a violent wave of release erupting like a burning flame from the buried head of his shaft, spurting into her womb, drenching her with his cum.

  Another searing orgasm knotted her womb, caressing the pumping length of his cock, and he shouted into the pillow at her ear, grinding against her, coming and coming until the slick fluid was spilling out of her, drenching them, wetting the sheets. They bucked and jolted, her arms wrapped tight around his head as she held on for dear life, wondering if she’d pass out before it was over.

  “Baby…baby…baby,” he grunted in her ear, his voice a low rasp, and she knew that in that moment it was true. He was giving her a child, and it was suddenly the one thing she wanted above all others—Kieran’s baby.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Most Binding Ceremonies were joyous affairs, but never was one quite so crazy as Kieran and Té’s. Of course it was all the doing of the groom, who could no more keep his hands off the glowing bride than he could concentrate on the ceremonial words he was supposed to say. He was too deliriously happy and preoccupied with trying to steal a taste of his radiant mate’s lush lips to listen to Seamus’ repeated prompting. It took three tries b
efore he was finally able to properly recite his binding vows, while Blu and Mal snickered with mischievous glee from their places in the front row of chairs within the grand hall at Seamus’ country estate.

  As was custom, they were dressed in white ceremonial robes, while each member of the Council created a shimmering band of silver light to wrap around the couple as they knelt upon a raised dais fashioned of pure, intricately carved gold. The smiling couple faced one another, faces bent close together, their bodies pressed flush against the other, the spiraling bands “bonding” them, pulling tight against their legs and torsos until the couple themselves shone with glinting arcs of light, their bodies aglow with a soothing, mystical heat.

  As Council Leader, Seamus recited the ceremonial chants in the lyrical language of Kieran’s Magickal ancestors, the joyous words a celebration of everlasting love and fidelity. The packed room sat in reverent silence while the remaining four Council members joined in with the closing chants, the final blessing only moments away, when the couple suddenly vanished, the bands of light left hovering in empty space, the dais shockingly missing a bride and groom.

  Seamus stared with wide eyes, his jaw hanging open in stunned surprise before he was finally able to stammer, “What? Where? Are they—is he just going to—”

  Iain nodded his white head, an unmistakable gleam of humor blazing within his black eyes. “Aye, he is.”

  The Council Leader blinked slowly, his voice a hoarse rasp as he proclaimed, “He canna do this!”

  “Och, now, Seamus,” snorted Conrad, nodding to the empty dais, “all evidence would point to the contrary.”

  “It’s an outrage,” the esteemed leader grated through his teeth.

  And then, almost before the words had left his lips, the couple reappeared, caught once more within their shimmering bonds, their faces flushed with apparent, visible satisfaction, mouths still intimately attached, arms entwined tight around the other’s neck.

  Iain cleared his throat, hoping to gain his son’s attention, while Seamus gathered his ceremonial robes around him with a great, irritated flourish, preparing to conclude the event before any more “unexpected” happenings occurred.

  Unfortunately, he wasn’t quite fast enough. Two stanzas into the closing chant, Kieran growled into his bride’s mouth, kissing her like a man possessed, and in the next instant they were gone again, vanished, the bands left empty once more.

  Seamus tossed up his hands in disgust, while Lach threw back his head and roared with laughter, Evan elbowed him in his side, and Blu, Mal, and the girls snickered with wicked delight. Even Dugan’s lips curled in a humorous smirk, dark green eyes momentarily alight with laughter.

  “Damn it, Iain,” Seamus roared. “Will you go get your son! The lad canna be this bloody randy. He only just had the lass thirty seconds ago!”

  “Knowing Kieran, I dinna think he’s ready to be got just yet,” Blu called out from his seat. “That first one was just the teaser.”

  Seamus grunted in exasperation. “We’ve no’ even had the bloody celebration yet.”

  “Oh, I think he’s probably already started one of his own,” Mal drawled from his sprawled position beside the now tearing Blu, the entire hall erupting into uncontrollable giggles over Kieran’s apparent inability to control himself around his beautiful bride.

  At the end of his patience, Seamus raised his voice to a towering bellow, loud enough to bring the ancient walls crashing down. “Kieran Lindsay McKendrick, get your blasted ass back in these bonds or I willna complete this bloody ceremony! Do you hear me, boy?”

  Five. Ten. Fifteen seconds passed, with no sign of the couple, and then they finally reappeared, Té’s robe slipping precariously off one shoulder, and Kieran’s greedy mouth still attached to her own. With what appeared—to the avid eyes watching them—to take considerable effort, he finally managed to stop kissing her long enough to lift his dark head and address the Council. He stared at Seamus with liquid eyes shimmering from midnight black to glinting silver, control clearly hanging by a tenuous thread.

  “Finish it,” both man and beast ordered, rasping voice thick with lust and love. “Now.”

  Seamus motioned the other members quickly back into place, muttering a low litany of curses beneath his breath, and then promptly had them moving forward once more. The bonds remained intact, binding the couple securely within their Magickal power as the final chants were recited, the deliriously happy bride and groom lost in the other’s gaze. Then Seamus finally gave the closing blessing, and the bands began to spiral with a dizzying, mesmerizing speed.

  Within the whirring, hypnotic spiral, Té looked up into her husband’s beautiful gaze, feeling his heart within her chest, beating beside her own, knowing that the wonder of what she’d found would last for all eternity. Kieran smiled down at her, mouthing the words, “I love you,” over the hissing of the bands as they moved faster and faster, creating a crackling sound of air and electricity. And then suddenly the bands erupted into a shimmering, mesmerizing blast of gleaming pinpoints of fiery light that shot high up into the air, slowly showering down upon the kissing couple and their cheering guests.

  “Forever,” groaned Kieran, nuzzling her smiling lips.

  “Aye,” laughed Té, mimicking his deep burr. “Forever.”

  * * * * *

  “You took it too far, you know—this time—considering his circumstances,” Lach remarked in his deep voice, the last of the guests making their way out while he and Seamus sat in the back garden enjoying their ale and late-night smoke. The bride and groom had already retired upstairs to one of the many lavish suites, and no one expected to see them emerge anytime soon. At least not if Kieran had his way.

  Seamus nodded sagely, thinking on Lach’s words while savoring a long draw from his pipe. Finally, he said, “We did what had to be done.”

  Lach snorted. “You couldna have just cursed his cock—same as you did mine?”

  “Och,” Seamus tsked, shaking his silver-threaded head of hair. “The lot o’ you are too bloody clever for that. You’d have figured out a way around it by now. No, we’ll keep you guessing. It’s the only hope we have of making this work to its completion.”

  Lach’s auburn brow arched, green eyes bright with humor. “You could just leave it to fate, you know.”

  “With the way you five run—have always run—from commitment!” Seamus snorted. “We were no’ born yesterday, Lachlan McKendrick. And with this reappearance of the Gan Bhrí and that bloody list Dugan got out of Maldari, we can no longer wait for the five of you to find your mates in your own time. Who knows how many others have bartered their way back to power, as he did. No, the McKendrick Clan needs to be at full strength—our warriors complete, both in heart and soul—if we are to survive.”

  “And what of Colin and Zach?” Lach drawled, finishing off the last of his icy cold McEwans. He’d always found it unspeakably unfair that his cousins had been forced into exile and banishment, when their so-called crimes had been far from serious. But then—when one angered a god, one tended to pay a higher price than others. Still, it had never sat well with him that they served sentences better suited to men of Maldari’s rank.

  The only saving grace was that they had not been sentenced as Gan Bhrí. When—or rather, if—they were ever allowed to return to this world, their power would remain intact.

  Seamus’ brow furrowed at his nephew’s question, bushy brows merging into one long line of worry and discontent. “Aye, we’ll have to come to a decision about those two—sooner, rather than later, mind you.”

  “Well, you know how I feel about it—have always felt about it. The punishments were too harsh, and they’ve been gone for too damn long. They dinna deserve to be treated like criminals.”

  “Aye, but then—it’s no’ an easy world we live in, is it, boy?”

  Lach leaned back in his chair and gave a crooked grin, shaking his head in amazement. “Seamus, I’m thirty-six years old and blissfully mated to the most re
markable woman in the world. Dinna you think it’s time you began to refer to me as a man?”

  Seamus snickered, thumping his purely decorative cane upon the terracotta tiling of the patio with a sharp blast of sound. “Until you’ve bred that beautiful little lass of yours and contributed to this clan, you’ll remain a boy, Lachlan McKendrick, and not a day sooner.”

  The keen, shit-eating smirk that slowly spread across Lach’s face gave his game away in the next instant. Seamus appeared dumbstruck, but for a moment, then let out a high-pitched wheezing of sound that Lach could only guess was some kind of cross between a joyous shout and gleeful laughter.

  “May the gods bless you,” the elder finally announced in a booming voice, slapping him heartily on his broad shoulder.

  Just then Evan made her way through the French doors, waving to her husband as she began to weave her way through the many tables that had been set up for the party’s guests. The corners of his green eyes creased as he smiled, his heart tripping, pounding with the kind of love and devotion that only grew stronger each day, filling his life with inconceivable joy. “They already have,” he replied with deep satisfaction, his hot eyes glued to the gentle roll of her hips as she made her way to him. “Trust me, uncle, they already have.”

  About the author

  Rhyannon Byrd is the wife of a Brit, mother of two amazing children, and maid to a precocious beagle named Misha. A longtime fan of romance, she finally felt at home when she read her first Romantica novel. Her love of this spicy, ever-changing genre has become an unquenchable passion—the hotter they are, the better she enjoys them!

  Writing for Ellora’s Cave is a dream come true for Rhyannon. Now her days (and let’s face it, most nights) are spent giving life to the stories and characters running wild in her head. Whether she’s writing contemporaries, paranormals…or even futuristics, there’s always sure to be a strong Alpha hero featured as well as a fascinating woman to capture his heart, keeping all that wicked wildness for her own!