Addicted to Witch (5 page)

“Get on your knees for me,” he murmured.

She did as she was told, tottering to the side as she removed her own jacket. He had the smallest stab of guilt as he saw the back of her dress, the chiffon shredded by the bark of the tree. He’d have to make it up to her somehow, given he’d never be able to buy her a new one. In fact, if he came the way he thought he was going to, he’d owe her a whole new wardrobe.

He threw the dress over her back and pulled her panties to her knees. Spreading the damp cheeks of her bottom apart, he slowly licked the swollen, juice-drenched lips of her pussy, the tip of his tongue nudging at her clit, before he dipped inside her, circling gently where his cock had been moments before. Fresh nectar flooded his mouth. I need to take her home, spread her out on my bed and feast for hours.

A flutter of peach soft flesh around his tongue gave him fair warning she was more than ready, stroking back and forth over her. She pushed back on him, her clit hardening under his work until again he felt the flow of her juices trickling over his chin, Helena wailing in front of him, “Jesus, God!”

Wiping his mouth with a hand and licking the rest from his lips, he tugged at his cock, pre-come leaking from the tip. Anticipation made him take his time. He dipped the head of his cock into her just as she clenched at him.

“Oh God!” she cried gently. “Come on!”

He circled his hips, teasing more cream from her as it started to leak down her thighs. His fingers starred over her stomach before he punched inside her so deeply. There was no teasing anymore; his mind could barely stand it. Instinct took over and he pounded into her fiercely. Their bodies were now so attuned to one another. He felt the ripples of her arcing toward another orgasm and he couldn’t stop his own. Muscles seized. Lights flashed behind tightly squeezed lids. His hands gripped her gently rounded hips as he came too, his come spilling into her in gut-wrenching spurts.

Christ, that was insane
, he thought, still braced against Helena’s damp back. His balls painfully ached with his release. It took a few moments to gather his mental faculties, but eventually, he pulled out. A large drop of come slipped from inside her and onto the coat.

“Explain that to your dry cleaner,” she gasped.

He chuckled, and swiped the liquid from his jacket as Helena turned onto her bottom. She took his hand and slowly licked it. Her eyes met his and he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his mouth to hers, tasting himself on her. Sexiest. Woman. Ever. “You really shouldn’t sing to a bloke. Gives entirely the wrong idea.”

He tugged her thong along the crazy length of her legs and tucked them into his pocket. Not caring about the stain on his coat he pulled her onto his body to give her long slow kisses. He would have been quite happy to stay there, kissing her, stripping off their clothes and going for the sequel when he stroked his hands over her arms. “You’re cold.”

“Not really,” she said.

She ruined it by shivering. Trying not to smile, he rubbed his hands more briskly over her. “We’ve missed the lock-in now.” He paused, and he had no idea as to what the hesitation was for. “Want to come home with me?”

“Yes, please.” She smiled.

Relief and excitement burned through him as he helped her to her feet and they both dressed quickly. Disappointment tinged his lust when she pulled the neckline of her dress over her breasts.
Later
, he promised. He hooked his coat over his arm and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“How long have you lived in Kent?”

“Donkey years,” he admitted as they made their way to his home. “Nothing changes. The world turns and Kent stays the same.” That wasn’t strictly true but she didn’t need to know.

“Bit quiet,” she said. That definitely wasn’t true.

“You only say that because it means you can hear yourself think. If you want to blame traffic for your lack of sleep you need better double glazing or a good therapist.”

She looked away. “How far is your place?”

He sent her a knowing look, given he was just as anxious to get inside into the warmth and get her naked. “Just ten minutes that way.” He nodded along the path.

“Neighbours at a good distance, then.”

“Yeah, I don’t want them to hear you screaming. I’ve got enough issue without them thinking I’m sacrificing virgins.”

She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Years too late for that.”

He pulled her against his chest to kiss her. “Didn’t feel that way at all.”

There was something deliciously other-worldly about her and him together. If Tim Burton didn’t appear any minute and yell
cut
, he would definitely start going to church. Someone needed thanks for leading her to him tonight. He pulled her into a waltz frame and danced her along the path, singing One Republic’s
Secrets
.

“You’re like my own personal iPod,” she laughed.

He twirled her at the end of his arm. “Push all the right buttons.”

She linked her arms around Auden’s neck before he could even open the wrought iron gates. All the cells in his body seemed to be in overload around her as if they were fully alive now. It was in the taste of her, her sweet scent, the mesmerising curve of her lips. Before he caught sight of her dancing, the world had been a vapid, dark, dull place. Now it was drenched in moonlight and Helena’s unique scent. She nudged at his stiffening dick with her hips and he instantly understood.

“Bloody hell, woman, where’d you hide the batteries?”

“Is that CCTV,” she asked, tearing her mouth from his to look at the hooded object focused on the gate.

“Don’t worry, it’s just there to scare people.”

She looked down at him. “Will you watch it later?”

He kissed his way down to the swell of her breasts. “Of course! You’re not selling it, though.” He unfastened his jeans again, and thrust his full length inside her once more. Ah, yes, he needed this. Hot, wet, all his.

She arched her back, sending him deeper into her, and turned her face toward the camera. “I love this man’s cock.”

He breathed a shocked laugh against the skin on her throat. “Jesus Christ, are you real?”

Her nails grazed his scalp in slow circles, as languidly as their hips meeting. Instead of answering, she kissed him instead.

“Say it again,” he ordered, his tongue drawing along her neck.

“I love this man’s cock,” she groaned, pushing down more firmly onto him.

“Camera’s not going to catch that,” he warned, “Louder.”

As he fucked her faster, she only whimpered the words, her voice vibrating with the ferocity of his movements. She melted around his dick, shuddering over and over again. “Love your cock,” she murmured. He couldn’t help it, he came laughing.

Breathing heavily, he traced his mouth along her damp neck, her long legs dangling a few inches from the ground. He tapped in the six digit code for the gate and when it opened, with an arm locked around her waist, he grabbed the waist of his jeans with one hand and carried her inside.

“I can walk!” she protested with a giggle.

“Porn stars don’t walk,” he reassured her.

“Yes, Mr. Stern,” she sighed invitingly. “What did you do with my underwear by the way?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he vowed. “You won’t be needing it.”

Chapter Seven

Ho-kay… Helena seemed to be an eyelash’s length from a heavily tattooed, gunned-up arm. Had she slept? Through the night? Without screaming? Oh God, Josh didn’t have any tattoos. Josh wasn’t in Kent. This was not Josh. Because Josh dumped her.

“Freak out in about ten minutes,” came the tattooed rumble. “Not right now.”

“Too late,” she whispered, realising they were both totally naked. Had she been drinking? Or was it the simple joy of sleeping through the night that caused a complete memory relapse? No, there it was. Sex flashback.

Tattoo unravelled himself from her and she hesitantly met violet eyes. She thought Amanda Quick made up that eye colour. Who knew? The very tips of his lashes were ice blond.

“Calm yet?” he asked.

“Nope. Need to call my sister.”

The edges of his mouth curled upward. “I like where this is going.”

She braved it and just threw herself out of the bed, gingerly stepping around scattered clothing. There was a tell-tale ache all over her body that was not gym induced. She didn’t dare look at Tattoo. Jesus Lord what was his name again? Something poncy. But she could feel his eyes on her. Maybe he couldn’t quite remember her name either. She scrambled for her dress and nearly gasped in horror at the tears in the chiffon and the mud on the hem.
Good God, don’t touch that stain
, she warned herself. She zipped it up without bothering with her underwear, not that she knew where the hell they were, and dragged out her phone. She saw a text from a number she didn’t recognise and read the message,
You’re Helena. I’m Auden. In case we forget. BTW this was your idea.

“Ladies?” she croaked.

Auden leaned up on his elbow and nodded gruffly toward the door. “Left. Down the corridor, left again. First door on the right.”

“Got it.”

“Hells.” Her nickname on that rough voice made her skid to a halt.

“Yes?”

“Stop freaking out.” He smiled, properly full-on smiled, eyes narrowing, flash of pearly whites.
That’s why. That right there is why I slept with a man I barely know. He is just that damn gorgeous. And I’m an idiot.

“Trying. Really trying not to.”

She followed his directions and stared at her phone. “Bar, come on, bar, bar bar.” She speed dialled Ophelia, who answered in a heartbeat. “I am never talking to you again.”

“Fee,” Helena groaned.

“How can you leave me alone with that posh wanker Cameron so you can get sex?”

“Ophelia,” Helena growled, which made her sister stop ranting. “I just called to say I’m fine.”

“I know you’re fine, you text me that guitar banding scruff’s address. You took a picture of his house and sent it to me. You text me how big his knob is. You both left a voice message on my answer machine singing the entire theme song to Rocky, and it wasn’t even Eye of The Tiger!” Her sister tutted. “I didn’t know you were a dirty groupie.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re still there. I’m assuming you didn’t have a screaming fit in the middle of the night, or were you far too busy doing it until the crack of dawn.”

“And?”

“And, he’s not Josh, praise be. I have no problem staying in my room with my laptop watching back episodes of Sex and the City.” Ophelia sighed, her voice softening. “Just…enjoy yourself. For once. It doesn’t mean be stupid. And never, ever call me to tell me how pretty come looks on your skin. Ever.”

“Sorry,” Helena whispered. “Love you.”

“Right now, I don’t love you very much at all, you horny, selfish bitch. Call me later.”

She found her way back to the bedroom where her ‘playmate’ was looking for something. He still wasn’t wearing any clothes. “Heating’s kicked in,” he explained as she looked elsewhere. He sighed impatiently. “You’ve had my dick in your mouth, it’s a little late to be shy about it.”

“I’m trying to be polite,” she said through her teeth, another flashback of doing just that sending a minor tremor through her.

“Waste of time, love,” he stated with the same bluntness that Ophelia had.

She swore she’d only had one lousy drink. Just one and she behaved like a skank. She focused on the tattoo that ran from his shoulder right across his back. It looked like an enormous claw mark that exposed what seemed to be snake scales the same colour as his eyes.

He retrieved the remote control for the TV and climbed back into bed. “Are you going somewhere?” He asked as she stayed where she was. “Head toward the kitchen for some toast if you like. I’m doing fuck all today.”

“I just had to walk along a corridor the length of my flat to go to the toilet. I’ll get lost if I try to find your kitchen.”

He looked at the TV screen and yawned like a bear. “It’s up to you, Hells. If I go down and come back up again, you’ll have to stay or get sat nav for the house, because I won’t be moving anywhere.” He looked at her again, his eyes watering from his yawn. “You heard me, yeah? I’m not repeating myself.”

“Heard.”

With a grunt, he threw back the duvet and yanked on his jeans. He scooped an arm around her waist and hoisted her down the stairs. “Don’t drop me!” she screeched, clutching his shoulders.

“You’re going to feel a bruise from a few hours ago.” He jogged lightly down the stairs and turned toward the kitchen. It was the same size as her surgery. Rustic but definitely large enough to run several different restaurants. He perched her on the nearest surface, then rummaged for bread, scooping his fine hair from his face.

“How much did you have to drink?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Two glasses of champagne? At the most.”

“Mix that with anything?”

“No,” she replied, insulted. He seemed on edge with that question, she realised.

Leaning across her to grab a bread knife, he cut two huge chunks of bread and shoved them in the toaster. With the speed of a man who meant business, he handed her a glass, extracted a carton of juice to serve her first, then himself.

She drained most of the glass, her throat was so dry. Too much drink or too much sex, she didn’t know. The way he watched her, she’d guess option B. He had such beautiful coloured eyes; he could correct her vision with those. The glass was taken from her and she found herself trapped between his multi coloured arms.

“Toast is burning,” she said on a whisper, almost intimidated by the intensity in his gaze.

His eyes flicked to the toaster. “That toast is vampire pale. I’m more of a brown bread bloke,” he murmured, his mouth so close to her own she tasted each word.

“Fascinating,” she replied, not sure if she should edge back or wrap her legs around him.
Jesus Hells, calm down, you’re not a teenager
!

Auden moved away just before the toast popped up. Without asking he buttered the slices, handed her two on a plate, and skimmed a pot of jam toward her. He passed her a knife and she took it with a smile. Usually in the morning, Josh was telling her how much sleep he’d lost and how work would be impossible. This felt comfortable, if not slightly slutty.