The Entanglement of Rival Wizards (Magic and Romance, #1)

by Sara Raasch

“This is the last time our codependency cockblocks me. You are whatever’s the opposite of a wingman.” “A thigh-woman,” I say without missing a beat.

Kissing Elethior Tourael should be as catastrophic as the worst thing I’ve done. And it is. But it’s not a bad catastrophe, and I never knew, never fucking knew that calamities could be wondrous, too.

“Another of mine is that I don’t share. Even if this is only physical, I won’t be fooling around with anyone else. And I don’t want you to either. For safety reasons, and because I’m a possessive fucking bastard.”

“I’ll help you forget, I promise. I’ll fuck you so good you won’t remember your own name beyond me calling you baby. But I can do that and still respect you, so look into my eyes and tell me you want my mouth on your cock.”

He’s unfairly stunning, coming apart like this. All the sharp lines of his features, all his harsh edges become cliffs I want to bungee jump off, see how far down I can fall before the rebound snaps me back up. He’s the plummet and the catch and the rise again all in one,

I’ve seen him smile so many times. So many different flavors of it, I could write a thesis on the dozens of ways Elethior Tourael’s lips move. But this smile? It puts all the others to shame. It’s joy and relief, it’s ecstasy and an unspoken, vibrant finally.

“Please,” I relent, tugging at his arms, his neck. “Please, Thio, fuck me. Fuck me, own me, ruin me—” He kisses me to silence. Eats the last few garbled words. “Oh, I’ll ruin you,” he tells me. “But you’re mine, so I’ll always put you back together again, too.”

We’re both broken, though. And our jagged pieces don’t exactly fit together, but we know how to move around the sharpest points of each other’s, how to adjust and make space so no one bleeds.