Always Practice Safe Hex (Stay a Spell, #4)

by Juliette Cross

“During sex,” he said in that low, deep baritone of his, leaning close and giving me a whiff of his clean, masculine scent, “being in control is the only way I get off.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Blackwater?” Fucking hell. What couldn’t she do for me?

“We may be rivals, Lavinia. But it doesn’t make me want to fuck your brains out any less.”

“Are you the spiderman?” I asked, our breaths mingling, mouths inches apart. “No, Lavinia.” He shook his head then dipped closer to me. I was sure he would kiss me, but he skimmed his nose along my jaw until his lips brushed my ear. “You are,” he grated,

biting my lobe. “And I’m so fucking caught in your web.”

She was so smart, my Lavinia.

The thing about grims was that our inner demons weren’t simply psychological struggles or conflicting emotions. They were sentient creatures, given life by our ancestral curse. Not just dark magic, but black magic. Blood magic. It was sealed to our souls by our twisted, malevolent forefather

and the things he’d done. The unbreakable spells he’d cast.

“You’re so fucking perfect, mate.”

I’m coming, my love. I’m coming.