Wickedly Yours (Witches of Pleasant Grove, #2)

by Jennifer Chipman

For all the girls who want a six and a half foot tall winged man to swoop in and tell them that they’re fated mates. (Me too.)

There was only one thing that stood between me and taking my rightful place on the throne: the witch destined for me.

But maybe it was time to take matters into my own hands. If he wouldn’t bring her to me—fine. I’d go get her myself.

That way, I didn’t think about the dreams haunting my sleep—the vision of those golden eyes that I just couldn’t shake off.

Secretly, I thrived in the night. I always felt like I had my best ideas when the moon was still high in the sky. Like it somehow called to me.

I tried not to think about my dream from last night. The one that always started the same way. A flash of dark hair. Golden eyes. Mighty wings that unfurled in front of me. A palace that I was sure I’d never seen before.

She would sit on the throne next to mine, wearing the crown I had made for her, my ring on her finger.

“You need to woo her.”

“Win her over. Make her fall in love with you, and then ask her to come back with you. Her loyalty is just as important as her place by your side.”

But I needed her. The blonde whose entire being seemed to light up this room, her smile already warming a piece of my cold, dead heart.

I’d waited centuries for her, and even in the darkest of days, I’d known that the knowledge of her was too tempting a fantasy to fall into. To let myself bathe in her light was more than I could ever hope for.

She was real. She was here.

She was mine.

He looked directly at me, those dark eyes—almost black—practically peering into my soul. “I think I did.”

Because I really, really wanted to jump his bones.

She was light. Pure, unfettered light. How could I tarnish that with my darkness?

I could still feel her lips against my cheek, the way she’d leaned up on her tiptoes to be tall enough to reach. She was still too short, and I’d had to bend down to meet her. She smelled sweet, floral, citrus, and sugar, a scent I’d never found so intoxicating before. It knocked me off my feet, how my body sang with rightness the moment I’d laid eyes on her.

I wanted her to choose me in the same way that I wanted to claim her.

“I wanted you to. But you didn’t.”

“Then stop talking and let me kiss you, woman,” he growled, his hands coming to my hips to pull me against him.

“I need you,” I said,

“Fuck, I like that.”

“The way you say my name.”

My handsome stranger gave me a devilish grin. “Tasting you.”

“I think I’m going to be addicted to this after one night.”

He slipped a finger inside of me. “You’re so tight, baby. I gotta get you nice and wet for me, huh? Stretch you so you can take my cock?” “Yes,” I agreed. I wanted that. “Yes, please.”

“You’re so big, handsome.”

“It’ll fit,” he promised, kissing me again as I moved my hand up and down on his length. “You’re going to take me so well.”

“I believe fate guides us to where we’re supposed to be. But the rest is up to us. A soulmate may be predestined to fall in love with you, but without trust and care, there’s no chance of a lasting relationship.”

The connection I felt between us was unreal.

“I feel safe with you.”

“If we do this, I’m not going to be able to let you go.” “Maybe I don’t want you to.”

“Zain,” she whined. “I want you inside of me. Please.” “Shhh,” I soothed, scissoring my fingers through her wet cunt. “I gotta get you nice and wet so you can fit me, baby.” The term of affection slipped out, and I couldn’t find it in me to regret it.

“Good girl,” I praised, and I didn’t miss the way her eyes sparked, her whole body seeming to light up at the praise. “Mmm, you like that, huh? Being my good girl?”

“Look how well you take me, Moonbeam. How well we fit together.”

“No one’s ever made me feel like this before.”

“That’s because they weren't me.”

It was how I wanted Zain to look at me.

She’d always been my best friend.

“Luna, get behind me.” Zain shoved his body in front of mine, his voice practically a snarl as he turned to the creatures. “You will not touch her.”

“You. Will. Not. Touch. Her.”

Lethal. Dangerous. But somehow also… Beautiful.

She was like a drug, and I wanted more of her in my system.

“It’s my fault,” I said, cupping her jaw. Forcing her to look at me. “They came after you because of me.”

Because of who I was. Because of who she was to me.

My scent is all over you.”

How good she smelled. Like mine.

“If something happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

I wanted her to choose me willingly. To choose us.

“You captivated me more than anyone has in a long time.” The truth. Most of it.