Heart of Darkness Read Online Free PDF

of the leader Edwina Owen. Next in line.
    In a world of beautiful women, this one lodged herself in his attentions. He wanted more of her, which was interesting in and of itself. Powerful, so powerful he fought the urge to drag his tongue up her throat to get a taste. She held it to herself, snug. Tightly controlled just like the rest of her. He wanted to muss her up. Repeatedly.
    Unbelievably, after less than ten minutes of seeing her, he had a mighty big want on for the delicious Ms. Owen.
    He usually avoided sexual interludes with other witches. He was outclan and his unaffiliated status tended to make clan witches territorial. Before he’d been with them a few months they started talking about clan affiliation.
    And he wasn’t a joiner.
    But he couldn’t shake the image of her spread beneath him, naked, writhing, her body offered up to his hands and mouth like the feast she so clearly was. Without a doubt, he knew he needed to sink balls-deep into this woman’s body, and as soon as possible.
    The hallway from the club back to his office was far quieter than in the club itself. He caught the sound of her breath, the hiss of fabric as they walked. Her scent wisped in her wake, seducing, teasing, but not giving him enough to satisfy.
    He found himself wanting to slow down. Wanting to stretch out all the time he had with her. He must have done it because she reached his office and turned back to him, waiting.
    He approached, not hiding the way he ate her up with his gaze. But when he reached around her body to use the small spell to unlock his door, their magick mingled for long moments. Tugging low in his belly, mimicking sexual attraction.
    Interesting.
    “Please, have a seat,” he said as they entered and he closed his door.
    “I’m Dominic Bright, I didn’t properly introduce myself out there.” He bowed slightly, remembering he had some manners.
    She waved a casual hand. “I know who you are. I’m Meriel Owen. We both know who the other is. Now, care to explain why you’re drawing from our font without permission?”
    Up-front, this witch. He should just get it over with. He knew it. He needed to pay his dues or whatever. But the flavor of her magick all around him made him crave more. He wanted to spar, to whet his appetite for her.
    “The wards here are for the good of all. I can’t see why you’d begrudge me that tiny bit of power.” He shrugged, spreading his hands out to appear reasonable.
    She exhaled, clearly annoyed. It only spurred him on.
    “Begrudging.” She rolled her eyes. “Really, Mr. Bright. If we begrudged you, we’d be teenage girls.” She shrugged. “Certainly we wouldn’t be powerful enough for you to be concerned when you shoplift from our font.” When she cocked her head, her hair slid forward, red, burgundy, threads of gold glinting in the light. He wondered what it would feel like. Before he reached to find out, he busied his hands with a pen.
    “You’re using our magick and you haven’t asked. Clearly the nature of this place mandates strong wards to prevent exposure. And you know our position on exposure. So while Clan Owen is certainly sympathetic to your problem, the bigger issue remains.”
    Yes, he knew the prevention of exposure was paramount to their people. And yes, he tended to agree that keeping what they were on the down low was a very good thing.
    “Lastly, you’re a businessman, Mr. Bright. If I had a drink here, I’d have to ask for it and offer some sort of payment for it.”
    “Or be so fucking sexy a Lycian prince buys you one.”
    She smiled and he felt a corresponding tug in his groin. She shrugged and went on, “We all have our little bonuses in life. But in any case, you get my point. The font exists to be used by all witches within this clan. We don’t quibble with another witch using it. But there are rules and even an outclan witch knows to ask.”
    He didn’t like asking any more than he liked rules. Damned witches and their rule