“I don’t care. Doesn’t matter anyway. No one comes in here without knocking…except you,” he answered before attacking her mouth again. Then he lifted his head. “Condom, damn it.”

She shook her head and smiled. “I’m protected.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t have babies. My female plumbing is irregular.”

He blinked. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s life, isn’t it? She’s such a bitch sometimes.”

The familiar tang of loss welled up over never being able to have children, but she tamped it down. Her life wasn’t made for babies, anyway.

She forced his mouth back down on hers for a moment before murmuring, “Make it sweeter for me for a while, Thomas.”

He gathered her skirt in one hand, fisting it and dragging it upward, while he used his other hand to press her against him by the small of her back. Her spine curved, forcing her body into his, as his mouth dropped to her throat to lick and nibble. Goosebumps erupted over her body and a low moan escaped her throat.

Her hands found the buttons of his battle-bedraggled shirt and began working them free. She couldn’t wait to explore that gorgeous chest and the six-pack abs he’d revealed earlier that day. She wanted to lick every inch of his tattoo. So much to do.

If any witch interrupted them now, she’d freeze them where they stood.

He finished yanking her skirt up to her waist and slipped his hand down her panties, finding her hot, wet, and very anticipatory.

If he wanted her ready, well….

Isabelle had become aroused the moment she’d entered the library and found him sitting there looking so brooding. The man did brooding like nobody’s business.

She spread her thighs, giving him better access. His fingers stroked her folds and found her clit. Her breath hissed out of her. He rubbed it with the pad of his index finger until he’d tripped her trigger.

“Does that feel good?” he murmured into her ear.

She did her level best not to pant. “If you’re not inside me soon, I’m going to come against your hand.”

He smiled against her earlobe. “I guess that’s a yes.”

“Yes.”

He forcibly yanked her head to the side and nibbled his way down her throat, making her shiver, making her hotter and wetter between her thighs. Thomas made love the way she’d assumed he would—commanding her and overwhelming her.

He made a low sound in his throat when she ran her hands over his chest, tangling her fingers through the smattering of dark hair. She had an empathic flash of just how much he enjoyed being touched. He ached for it, craved her hands and lips on him. Perhaps, because of his position at the Coven, he wasn’t touched that often.

She could definitely make up for some of that now. With pleasure.