Spellbound (6 page)

‘Grab it, will you? Just as an . . . experiment.’

Baffled, Belle didn’t think to ask Nick to come inside. She left him standing at the door while she searched the living room, finally finding the crystal sitting on a window ledge. She returned to him, holding it gingerly between thumb and forefinger. What on earth was it? And why on earth did Nick want it?

‘Is that it?’ he said as she approached.

‘Yes.’

‘Okay. Hold it tight and let’s try that again.’

‘Try what again?’

He ignored her. ‘Do you like coffee?’

‘Huh? I already told you, I like tea.’

‘What’s your favourite John Cusack movie?’

‘
Say Anything
.’ She could hear the soundtrack of it playing behind her.

He took no notice of her answer. ‘Will you go out with me?’

‘I—What?’

‘Will you have coffee with me?’ He grinned, eyes lighting up. ‘Will you have a drink with me? Will you go on a date with me?’ He punched the air. ‘Yes!’

‘Nick? What . . .’

He held up a hand to silence her. ‘No, listen. Will you have breakfast with me? Will you go on vacation with me? Will you come to the supermarket with me?’ With every question he asked, his expression lightened. ‘Will you have dinner with me? Will you go to the movies with me? Will you kiss me? Will you sleep with me?’

This time it was Belle who choked. ‘
What?
’

Suddenly, his grinned faded and he frowned at her. ‘Belle. Are you a witch?’

Belle spluttered again. ‘What the Goddess is going on?’ she asked, bewildered.

‘Belle, it’s important. Are you a witch? Because I think someone has cast a spell on you.’

Nick strode into Belle’s apartment. For now he was going to ignore the fact that it appeared witchcraft existed in reality. He would consider the evidence later and come to the rational conclusion that befitted his engineering-oriented mind, which would no doubt be that it was completely impossible. This would be despite the proof of his own personal experience: the fight he’d had to make it up the stairs, each step feeling as if he were lifting his foot through glue; the overwhelming despair that had overcome him as he’d approached Belle’s door; and the battle he’d had to raise his hand to knock. That, and the fact that as soon as she was holding the damn crystal in her hand, the glue disappeared, his voice unlocked, and he could speak to her as he’d been trying to do for months.

‘Don’t let go of that crystal,’ he said as Belle followed him into the living room. She still looked completely bewildered.

The room looked the same as when he’d been there the previous weekend, except —

‘Is that cabinet new?’ he asked, pointing at a large, multicoloured armoire in the corner. The cabinet screamed
magic
, the symbols and swirls and colours and the way it seemed to sway slightly at the edges of his vision, as if it weren’t quite there.

Belle gasped. ‘You can see it?’

‘Yes, I can see it,’ he said, turning to face her. ‘And I can speak now too.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Something – or someone – has been stopping me from talking when I’m around you,’ he said. ‘But when you’re holding that crystal, it goes away.’

Belle stared down at the crystal in her hand. ‘Aunt Gertrude,’ she muttered.

Nick didn’t know what that meant, but figured it was just a creative profanity. ‘I don’t really understand it myself, but it seems to be working. I’m not going to go back to try the stairs though, just in case. That was hard enough the first time.’

‘Nick . . .’ Belle stood in the living room, holding the crystal in her palm. Her glossy brunette curls were tumbling over her shoulders in waves. Those bewitching green eyes were staring at him, confused and uncertain, and Nick had the strongest urge to kiss her uncertainty away.

‘Belle,’ he replied, giving her a smile.

‘I don’t believe this,’ she said, her voice a mere whisper.

‘Don’t believe what?’ Nick needed more information. More than one impossible thing had happened to him that evening.

‘That you’re really here. It has to be a trick.’

‘It’s not a trick.’ How could he make her believe him? ‘Oh, I know,’ he muttered to himself. In two long strides he was next to her, and without giving her time to think about it, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.

He meant it to be a sweet, warm kiss, but once she was pressed against him – those beautiful breasts and soft skin and her mesmerising fragrance of roses and vanilla – Nick’s ideas of gentleness flew out the window.

‘Oh, Belle,’ he groaned, before plundering her mouth, opening her to him, tasting her, exploring her with his tongue. He was rock-hard in an instant and fought the desire to unzip himself, raise her dress and take her roughly right there against the living room wall.

‘Yes, yes,’ Belle sighed as he kissed his way over her jaw and down her neck. He wondered if she was just saying that, or if she could read his mind and was encouraging his fantasy. That made him pause for a moment. If witchcraft existed, was it possible mind-reading did too?

He pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, noting they were dark with desire. ‘Belle, do you know what I’m thinking?’ he asked.

She gave him a sweet, lopsided smile. ‘I don’t know for sure, but if it’s anything like what I’m thinking, it involves nudity and my bed and possibly warm fudge sauce.’ Then she clamped a hand over her mouth and looked horrified.

Hmm.
Nick chuckled at her expression and stored the fudge idea away for later. ‘No, I mean . . . If you’re a witch, or . . .’ He couldn’t believe he was actually saying those words. His mouth became a thin line. ‘I really want to know if you can read my mind.’

Belle made a
pfft
noise. ‘Nope. I can’t. I can’t read anyone’s mind.’

Nick’s relief went all the way down to his toes. Whether or not Belle was actually a witch – and what, if anything, that meant – could wait, but he’d needed that cleared up. Especially given that his mind was jumping several stages ahead of his body and had already been busy imagining all the things he’d like to do with Belle’s lush curves. Some of them shocked even him.

He was kissing her again without realising it. Her taste was captivating, addictive, and if this was witchcraft, Nick was pretty sure he was okay with it.

He took the lobe of her ear into his mouth for a suck and her breath rushed past his cheek in a low moan. The sound went straight to his groin, sending a pulse of blood through his cock and making him utter a groan in response.

It took every tiny speck of self-control he had, but Nick pulled away from her. Too much, too soon. Panting, he stared in her eyes, but instead of cooling his ardour it only fanned it further. ‘Belle,’ he began.

‘Why did you stop?’ she asked.

‘I had to, or else . . .’ Had he ever been this desperate to have a woman? Even when he was sixteen and pretty much constantly erect he didn’t think he’d felt this on edge. ‘. . . Or else I wouldn’t be able to stop at all.’

Belle’s eyes were half-lidded and the usual bright emerald green had darkened to a deep forest moss. Her tongue darted out and moistened her lips.

He stifled another groan. ‘Belle, I want to go slow, but it’s taken us so long to get to this. I don’t know if I can —’

‘Don’t make me wait,’ she panted. ‘Don’t. This is what I want, Nick. I want it. I need it. Please.’ She was pulling his shirttails from his jeans, and then her hands were on his bare back, running up to his shoulders, the crystal she still clasped in one hand cold against him, and Nick groaned his surrender into her ear.

‘We’ll take all night,’ he promised. ‘Quick now and slow later, okay?’

On the TV, John Cusack stood in someone’s yard with a boom box and played a Peter Gabriel song, while in Belle’s living room, Nick steered her to the wall near the magical cabinet. He trailed his fingers from her knees up the outside of her thighs, dragging her floral-patterned dress with them, raising it until a pair of plain white, lace-edged panties were revealed. Nick’s cock leapt inside his jeans, ramming against the constraining denim, and it was all he could do not to whimper.

‘God, Belle, you’re beautiful.’

She let out a little snorting breath. ‘No.’

‘You are. Let me prove it to you.’

He pushed the hem of her dress into the little belt at her waist, holding it in place, then lowered himself to his knees and hooked his fingers underneath the sides of her panties. It didn’t feel quite right, doing this before he’d got her completely naked, before he’d revealed and kissed those breasts he’d dreamed about for so long, but something compelled him to worship her like this first.

Slowly he pulled the cotton down her legs, revealing a neatly trimmed tuft of brunette curls to match the ones on her head, and Nick knew he was lost. Or found. Or something.

He kissed her hip, nuzzling the soft skin and following the crease between leg and torso to her centre. ‘Spread for me,’ he murmured.

Belle let out a muffled sound of protest, but did as he asked.

‘Beautiful,’ Nick breathed, and Belle shuddered.

He used his finger to trace her slit, barely touching her, smiling when her hips arched towards him, signalling her need for more.

‘You want me to touch you? Is that what you need?’

‘Touch me, Nick.’ Her voice was low and thick with desire and Nick had to hold his breath for a moment against the tidal wave of want that pumped through his body. He could wait. He had to. He wasn’t sure why, but he did.

‘Don’t worry, my beautiful Belle, I’m going to touch you.’

And he did. His fingers parted her, baring her delicate pink centre. She glistened with her response, swollen and needy, and Nick didn’t require any further invitation. As his tongue swept over her she groaned, and one of her hands tangled in his hair.

He began with long, sweeping licks, tasting all of her, dipping his tongue inside her before running it along her plump lips to the tip of her desire, circling around her clit, and then doing it all again. Belle made desperate gasping noises, and Nick wished he could watch her face as she surrendered to pleasure. Plenty of time, he told himself. Tonight he would give in to every fantasy he’d ever had about the delectable Belle. Feasting on her was just the start . . .

Nick’s hands rested on the insides of her thighs, holding her apart, caressing the delicate skin there. He moved a hand upwards, stroking her as he went, tracing the line of her leg until it met her hot, wet core. Belle’s fingers tightened in his hair.

‘Nick. Oh, Nick. Please. I want . . .’ Belle sounded vaguely crazed – now she was the one unable to speak. But unlike the spell that had bewitched him, the magic preventing her words was something carnal and basic that Nick easily understood.

‘Is this what you want?’ Nick made sure that his lips and breath tickled her as he spoke, and he drove two fingers inside her. She gasped and her hand shot out to steady her, grabbing the side of the brightly coloured cabinet she was standing next to. It swayed a little and Nick heard the faint sound of glass clinking from within.

She was so hot and wet and tight around his fingers, it was almost enough to have him coming in his jeans. He couldn’t wait to get his cock inside her, to feel her body clasping his, to pump into her with wild abandon, to feel her contract around him when she peaked. For now, though, he continued to play with her using his mouth and hands.

‘Oh, Belle, you’re so hot and beautiful. So wet and delicious. Beautiful Belle.’ Nick applied his tongue directly to her clit, flicking it with hard, short licks as he thrust into her with his fingers. He curled them inside her, rubbing against her with every drive of his hand.

Her thighs began to tremble and she pressed his face harder into her. She arched her hips, wordlessly begging him for more, and Nick had never been so aroused in his life. He could tell she was close, her breaths were little more than gasps and her body swelled against his mouth. He could tease her, stop now and draw it out, but somehow he knew that wasn’t right. Belle needed this release badly, almost as badly as Nick needed his cock freed from its denim prison.

‘Come for me,
bella
,’ he murmured. He pressed his mouth around her clit, sucking on it, as he pushed his fingers deeper inside her. She cried out and her body shook and she pulsed around his fingers, a gush of fluid coating his hand. Her channel spasmed, dragging him deeper, and Nick kept up the pressure, wringing every second of pleasure from her, making her orgasm go on and on . . .

Slowly, her fingers loosened in his hair, her hips sank back against the wall and Nick let up his assault. He moved his fingers gently, gave her clit a few soft, appreciative licks. The wet noise of his fingers moving inside her made his cock pulse hotly and he couldn’t help the moan that rose in the back of his throat.

‘Thank the Goddess,’ Belle muttered, body pressed against the wall as if it were the only way she could continue standing. ‘That was amazing.’

‘And it was just the beginning, beautiful Belle,’ Nick said. He slipped his fingers from her and she whimpered a little. He kissed her stomach, dipped his tongue into her navel and rubbed his cheek against the soft convex of her belly. ‘I’m going to love every part of this body before we’re done.’

‘Oh yes, please. But . . .’ Nick looked up and she was staring pleadingly at him, her bottom lip caught by her front teeth innocently. ‘Could we lie down? I’m shattered.’

Nick chuckled. ‘Of course.’ Getting to his feet, he took Belle’s hand and let her lead him to her bedroom. ‘Not yet,’ he said once they were there, pulling on her arm to stop her from climbing on the bed. ‘I need to see all of you.’

Belle was wearing a floral dress and a white cardigan; her feet were bare, revealing cute little toes with purple-painted nails. The cardigan was first to go: Nick pulled it down each arm, making sure to run his fingertips along the inside of her elbows as he guided the garment off. He half-wished she wasn’t wearing a dress, so the reveal would come more slowly, but his aching cock disagreed violently. Nick picked up the hem of the dress and Belle raised her arms above her head obediently.

Then she was before him, naked apart from a plain white satin bra. Her purple toes and the green crystal she still clenched in one fist were a striking contrast to her pale cream-and-pink flesh. Nick spun her around to reach the clasp of her bra, deftly undoing the hooks before spinning her back again and slipping the straps from her shoulders.

‘Oh yeah,’ he breathed, as her breasts were finally revealed. Full and lush and tipped with deep pink nipples, they were everything he’d dreamed of and more.

Belle’s face flushed to match her nipples, the colour spreading over her neck and chest. Nick belatedly noticed that her shoulders had stiffened, and her knuckles had gone white around the crystal. ‘I know my breasts are too big,’ she said in a rush, ‘and a bit saggy. But maybe I could leave my bra on. Then you wouldn’t have to look at them.’

Nick stared at her in disbelief. Too big? Did she not know that as far as males were concerned, there really wasn’t such a thing? Besides, hers weren’t those obscene balloon-like fakeries all over magazines or porn films. They were naturally big and heavy and Nick wanted nothing more than to bury his head between them. And then, maybe, his cock. ‘Are you crazy? Why wouldn’t I want to look at your breasts? They’re just as beautiful as the rest of you.’ To prove his point he trailed a finger across the top of one breast, running a little zigzag until he reached the nipple, flicking it lightly. He sighed when it tightened into a berry-like little bud under his touch. ‘Ah. So beautiful.’

‘You don’t have to keep saying that.’

‘Why wouldn’t I? It’s true.’

She made a funny dismissive noise, but then her hands reached out for the buttons on his shirt. ‘It’s your turn. I want to look at you.’