By Joey W. Hill
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Additional resources for A Witch's Beauty
Glancing up, he noticed it for the first time, the mist of the clouds and the sparkle of the stars she'd created. The moon drifted away like an errant balloon, getting smaller and smaller until it popped against the side of the freighter wall and left only ugly gray metal, a crisscrossing of beams. " she managed. "You had the horses running, but without touching the floor. You prefer the deeper, quieter places of the ocean. The louder it got, the more panicked you looked. " Still keeping one hand on her, he reached into the waterproof sack from which he'd drawn the orange and came out with a square of paper cloth.
And claim was the right word, for hers parted in mindless surrender. His tongue found hers, tasted, tangled. Taking his time, he left nothing unexplored, even tracing the scar furrows on the roof of her mouth and the moist insides of her cheeks. Rather than causing him to withdraw, those discoveries just made him slow his pace, stroke her even more languorously with his clever tongue. His lips were so firm that she put her hand up to wondrously feel the way they fit over hers. The thin film of wet heat just inside made her fingers slip, tease the corner of his mouth.
As they moved into a more open area, David fell back and went up, wanting to survey a wider scope of their surroundings, see more attack points. She flicked a sidelong glance at him as he changed position but said nothing. The others had probably employed similar tactics. She seemed unconcerned with his movements, but dropped lower, so she became nothing more than a mundane sea creature making her way along the seafloor, brushing close to reefs when they were provided, minimizing her open exposure.