Treats for Trixie — Marteeka Karland

A familiar has to be careful when letting a warlock have his way with her. Especially if she's a bit inexperienced. But when Forrest sets his sights on Trixie, nothing will stand in his way, not even her own insecurities. Trixie is one full figured familiar worth having for his own.



EXCERPT!



If that woman didn't quit swishing her hips when she walked by him, Forrest was going to turn her over his knee. The resulting spanking would likely end with her beneath him, clawing his back and screaming his name. If he were lucky. He felt decidedly lucky. With Halloween approaching and his magick burning inside him, filling him with more power than he had at any other time of the year, the resulting rush was like a firebrand across his senses.



The woman in question was none other than Trixie Lance, the local familiar coven's good girl. Of course, “good” was a relative term. That whole house was a bunch of animals. Literally. Each of them had an alternate animal form, and they loved to party.



“What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?” And that would be Zyan, his best friend and the one man who could see right through him.



“Shut the fuck up.”



Zyan toed a chair around to straddle it, resting his hands on the back. Music blared through the bar where Forrest watched his little familiar. “Well, you have to admit. There's not been a sock on the door in more weeks than I can count, and you're always either here or at the familiar coven. No' that I blame you.” Zyan shook his head as Trixie walk by once again, the other man's eyes giving her backside an appreciative once over. “That woman's got an arse to inspire sonnets.”



“Stop looking at her ass,” Forrest bit out through clenched teeth.



“Kinda hard to miss, that.” Zyan grinned. “Nice and round, just right to grip while she rides -- ”



“I will fuck you up so bad you'll need a slew of familiars feeding you mystical energy to heal.”



Over the centuries of their friendship, Zyan had adopted a Scottish accent because it “dropped panties faster than Mardi Gras.” Forrest had to admit the man had a point. Which was why he didn't like him anywhere near Trixie.



“Then do somethin' about it before someone else does.” Zyan shook his head, making a tsking sound as he sucked in a breath. “A man could get lost in that wee beauty.”



Didn't he just know it? Forrest had been obsessing over the voluptuous little cat shifter far longer than any sane man would. Nice and rounded in all the right places, Trixie had a body that just screamed sex. Her extra curves had caused her grief in a den filled with lithe, tall beauties, but Forrest's mouth watered whenever he thought about how she'd look standing nude before him. Generous hips, rounded breasts, and a strong body, Trixie was built to take a man like him. She would surely be the death of him. Didn't mean he was opposed to chancing it. He just couldn't figure out how to approach her. He knew she was an innocent. His magick told him that every time he got near her, screaming for him to claim her for his own before another man did. Unfortunately, he wasn't into the kind of sex with which one initiated virgins. His immortality ensured he'd been “around the block” a time or two. Vanilla sex wasn't in his repertoire, and vanilla was what a virgin needed.