Trickery (2 page)

Chapter Three

He set her gently on the bed and then crawled on top of her, hovering there on all fours, staring at her like a hungry wolf. “Willow,” he said, “You are so beautiful. I want you.”

She wriggled impatiently beneath him. She wanted him on her. In her. Why didn’t he just rip off her clothes? Why didn’t he take her? Instead he just crouched there, over her, lungs heaving like a bellows, eyes burning.

She stroked him, his shoulders, his arms, his abdomen. She wanted bare flesh but she met an annoying resistance.

“Take off your shirt.”

He did, without hesitation, kneeling up and ripping the cotton barrier from his body. Willow sucked in a breath at the sight. A long, lean plane of tanned, rippling flesh. She dragged her nails across his pecs and down to his abs, creating a red, four-tracked trail, and then reversed her path with her palm. He was firm and warm and perfect.

She sat up and retraced her caress with her mouth, exploring him, tasting him, teasing him. He looked down at her as she ravished him, pain limning every line of his face. His hand trembled as though he very much wanted to fist it in her hair, direct her mouth where he wanted it to go. But he couldn’t.

Oh dear.

Of a sudden, Willow realized why.

With her brilliant potion, she’d made him her sexual slave, bound to appease her every command. He couldn’t—literally couldn’t—fuck her without permission.

She caressed the flesh of his nape, tugged him down. “Austin,” she whispered in his ear. “Make love to me.”

His breath came out in a relieved rush. He pushed her back and lowered his body over hers. His mouth, a ravaging marauder, tasted her everywhere, nipping and sucking and licking languorously. And all the while, he rubbed his fat cock on her slit. He became impatient with that and wedged his knee between hers, shoving her legs apart. He lowered his hips and let his cock scrape her sensitive flesh.

“God, you’re hot,” he growled between nibbles. “Even through your clothes. I can feel your little clit throb.” He pressed harder and she gasped.

Yes, her clit was throbbing. But then, so were her nipples. Her body ached, all the way to her core, ached for that fullness he could give her.

His fingers raked across her nipples, a tandem torment. “Yes. Yes. Unbutton my blouse, Austin. Do it.” She wriggled beneath him, rubbing against his cock as he complied, fumbling with the buttons and spreading the fabric wide.

His nostrils flared as he revealed her breasts cupped, as they were, in black lace. His tongue dabbed at his lower lip.

“Suck on my nipple.” She arched her back, annoyed that she had to tell him to do everything.

He lowered his head and took an aching bud into his mouth. Sucked. Agonizing delight speared her. He did it again, this time grinding her swollen mound with the same rhythm. Willow pushed back, spread her legs wider, humped him, panting.

“More. More. Do the other. Come on, Austin. Do it!” At her urging, he unfastened her bra and released her breasts. He tweaked the nipples, pinched them and rubbed them as she panted and writhed beneath him, becoming more and more aroused.

But he did nothing, absolutely nothing, she did not expressly command.

She groaned in frustration as his light touch drifted—
again
—over the snap to her jeans without releasing them. “Damn it, Austin!” she bellowed. “Strip me naked.”

He groaned and hastened to comply. He trembled as he unsnapped and unzipped her jeans. She helped him peel them off and then kicked them onto the floor. She ripped her panties off herself because she couldn’t bear to wait for him to do it.

Unencumbered by her annoying clothes, she laid back with her legs spread wide on either side of him. “Eat my pussy, Austin.” She set her voice low, twined with a charmed command. He stared at her naked bush and swallowed. As he lowered his head, he licked his lips and moaned.

And then he was there.

He nudged the length of her slit with a gentle tongue, lapping back and forth, teasingly, dipping in only slightly, until she growled and pled and arched her hips. Then he opened his mouth on her. His sweet, velvet lips encased her clit and he sucked.

She nearly shot off the bed but he held her down, continuing this blissful anguish, dabbing and stabbing at it with his tongue, sucking and nuzzling and tugging with firm lips. Willow groaned at the sheer delight he created in her nub, reveled in the way the pleasure shot along her nerves, up and out to glow through her whole body.

He serviced her, kissing and laving and drawing such exquisite pleasure on her, she wanted to weep. But her hunger was rising. It had been sharp for some time—for days—but it was harsher, almost feral, since he’d sipped her wine. She hadn’t realized the spell would have this effect on her, but she didn’t care.

She wanted Austin, she’d wanted his cock inside her from the moment she’d laid eyes on his hard, muscular body and his beautiful face. She wanted him. And she wanted him now.

And she would have him.

“Austin. Fuck me.”

His head shot up, an expression of bone-deep relief on his face. His lips glistened with her cream. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yes Austin. Take off your jeans, pull out your hard cock and put it into my pussy.” Best to be specific, leave no room for misunderstandings.

A muscle ticked in his cheek. His eyes burned into hers as he fumbled with the snap on his jeans and yanked them off. His briefs quickly followed and then…and then he slid over her. On her. Oh Gaia. How wonderful his skin felt, warm and bare, covering her, blanketing her. How…

Willow stilled as Austin shifted a little to the side and wedged his knees between hers, edging hers even farther apart. His cock drew a trickle of heat along her thigh, edging ever closer to her entrance. She wriggled impatiently.

Austin studied every minute reaction, every flicker on her face. “Do you want this?” he asked, his voice hard, his breath hot. “Do you want my cock inside you?”

“Yes.” And how. Her body clenched in anticipation. Cream dribbled out. She writhed, spreading her legs wider. “In me. In me now.”

He rubbed his cock, that hard pole, over her slick slit. She flinched as the turgid head nudged her aching clit. He circled it until she whimpered with hunger.

“Fuck me.” She tried to arch up but, his weight held her down.

“Are you commanding me to?” His tone was harsh, intent.

“Yes. Yes. Put it in.”

“Are you giving me permission? Are you welcoming me into your body?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me? Of your own free will?”

“Yes.”

His gaze burned into hers. “Are you begging for it?”

“Yes, damn you.”

He smiled. A lazy, lethal grin. “Say it.”

“Say it?”

“Beg me.”

“Damn it, Austin…”

“Say it.”

The tip of his cock drew insanity on her. She growled in frustration.

“Please, Austin. Fuck m—”

Before the words escaped her lips, he nudged past her swollen folds, pushing the hot head of his cock through the tight ring of her entrance, and in. Willow shook at the sensation of fullness. It was magnificent, more delightful than she could ever have imagined. There was something about it, about him, as he slid in holding her gaze. Something that made her feel suddenly, finally complete.

But she didn’t linger on the thought, couldn’t, because Austin edged back out, which caused a whole new wash of sensation. She lifted her knees and wrapped her legs around his waist in a desperate attempt to keep him inside her, to draw him back in, but she needn’t have bothered. After a brief teasing pause, he slipped back in.

“Do you like that, Willow?” he whispered and he sank deeper and deeper still. “Do you like my cock filling your tight pussy?”

“Yes!”

“You’re tight. So tight. I never expected… I never thought… Damn. You’re tight. And hot. Ah…” He hissed out a breath as she clenched around him. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long. Yes. Like that.” He urged her hips into a sideways motion.

The movement astounded her and made Willow’s brain hiccough for a moment…and then his words sank in. “You’ve wanted to fuck me? For how long?” How could he have wanted her? Until she laid the calling spell, he wouldn’t even have noticed her. And until she’d punched a peephole in Midea’s mask, he wouldn’t even have
wanted
to notice her.

He met her gaze and chuckled and then moved in a way that made her mouth water and her body clench and all thoughts seize. And then he did it again. And again until she was crazed with sensation, panting and growling and clutching at him, digging her fingernails into the hard flesh of his ass to urge him to continue. Forever, perhaps.

His rhythm increased. He lifted her and began to sluice in and out of her at an astonishing rate. Each thrust, each lunge, sent her into paroxysms of pleasure that made her body weep, her soul sing. She knew this was the fuck of her life, she just wasn’t sure if it was only magic—or if it was real. But at the moment, she hardly cared.

The trails of her tiny spells swirled around him, around her, but there was something more, something greater, tugging at the two of them.

Then she lost her grasp on the thought, on all thought, because he tipped his hips and began fucking her from the side, from an agonizing new angle that had his long cock jabbing at a bundle of nerves deep inside her, prodding and poking at her, caressing and stroking her sanity.

She felt it coming, the orgasm stalking her. It rose and blossomed, tinged with the trails of her rose-flavored magic. It tangled with the other thing, the other cloud, the other essence, one that tasted blue and teased at the edge of her awareness.

The magic coalesced, tightened, shifted inward, clutching at her, dragging at her, pulling her deeper and deeper into a thick miasma of delirium, of bliss and pleasure and belonging.

And he was there too. Austin.

She stared at him with her internal eye, and he stared back.

Something unfamiliar nudged at her. It wasn’t the looming power of the coming orgasm that captured her attention. It was the other power, the other pull. And then, in a gushing tug like the undertow before a massive tsunami, everything—her soul, her mind, her breath, her power—was sucked from her body until she was nothing but an empty shell.

But before she could cry out, before she could even register the pain, everything washed back in. Her climax broke, like that tsunami, raining down on her and taking her and sweeping her away. Swamping her.

And in the raging tide, in the flood of emotions and thoughts and power and enchantment rushing back into her, there was a piece of him.

Chapter Four

Damien DeWinter leaned back against the headboard and gazed down at his conquest as she lay, in a tangle of heaving, boneless limbs, on his bed. Well hell. She hadn’t been what he’d expected. He traced a finger along her long, creamy thigh. She shuddered, her skin pebbled at his touch. So responsive.

She’d been a delightful fuck and so easy to snare.

He chuckled to himself.

Foolish girl. Had she thought to entrap
him
?

Apparently they didn’t bother to teach novices how to avoid beguiling scoundrels anymore.

Lucky him.

She was exquisite, laid out like a feast on his bed—prepared, as it had been, for her seduction. She’d been the sweetest. Her body had been tight. Ready for him. And her orgasm—hell, it had swamped him too.

He hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t prepared for that kind of…mingling.

It was the kind of mingling the old farts of the Brethren muttered about when their eyes glazed over and they nattered on about their youth, about the old days when it was still possible to find a True Mate. Nobody even talked about True Mates anymore. They all took what they could get when it came to the sacred rite of mating. And, if they were lucky, they could get a natural wood for their partner.

It was embarrassing when a warlock had to resort to a potion to cure his…disinterest. Especially in the Circle. With everyone watching, on bated breath, hoping for conception.

He’d needed nothing of the kind with Willow. That was why he’d pursued her. Hell, he’d wanted to fuck her the first time he saw her in the scrying glass. Midea’s mask hadn’t fooled him. What a joke that had been.

He’d seen Willow and wanted her. He’d found her, followed her and slowly, but surely, seduced her.

But now he had her, now she was his and he had to decide what to do with her. He didn’t want to let her go right away, like all the others. He’d lured those novitiates for one reason and one reason only—to piss off his sanctimonious father.

Willow was different. Damien didn’t even want to flaunt this conquest before the Great Warlock just to watch his face turn purple. He wanted to keep her to himself.

And he wanted her again.

He glanced at his stiffening cock and shook his head. He had a feeling he’d be in a state of arousal for a long, long time. He grinned down at the gorgeous young witch who had tried so valiantly to ensnare him.

She was his captive now. His creature. She’d taken his potion—with both hands. She’d come to him of her own free will. She’d demanded his cock. Begged for it. There was no way anyone could accuse him of taking unfair advantage.

Which, of course, he had.

He whispered a spell and drew his knuckles along her thigh, easing his way to her, finding the warmth at her core. She opened her eyes and turned to him, arousal flaring in those moss-green depths. She nestled closer.

Yeah. He’d be hard for a long, long time.

And yeah, he’d keep her with him.

At least until he tired of her.

Willow shot a glance at Austin and shuddered. She still quaked and trembled in the trails of her orgasm and she wanted him again. Hunger, fresh and new and overpowering, swamped her.

It surprised her, just a tad. She’d always been a horny wench but usually one good hard fuck was enough to appease her…at least for a while. But she wanted him again. Already. Her body wept. Her clit tightened, her nipples ached.

He smiled at her and a thrill trilled through her. His lips were gorgeous and so talented. She longed to kiss them. She levered her body up to take them—and met a wall. Confused, befuddled, she tried once more, reaching for him with a growing yearning. And again, something stopped her.

His smile widened, no, more than that. It changed. It went from a simple salutation to something knowing, something wicked. Willow blinked and stared at Austin in shock. Suddenly he wasn’t just a naïve, goofy coffee vendor all ready for a roll in the hay. Suddenly he was something more. Something…dangerous.

Instinctively she pulled away but something arrested that movement as well. In fact, everything about her was constrained. Panic flared. She’d never been a weak woman, not even before she’d discovered her magical powers. She’d never once been subjugated or controlled. But now…now the feeling was upon her.

Austin tipped back his head and laughed. It had an evil, exultant resonance. It sifted through her like tiny grains of sand, scraping at her nerves.

“Surprised?” he asked.

Willow didn’t respond, other than to fight at her bonds, the invisible shackles holding her in place. She realized, quite quickly, it was pointless. She continued to struggle nonetheless.

He watched, a smug expression on his face, and then he tsked. “Don’t waste your energy, Willow.” He rose and padded to the armchair, where he sat, curling his legs beneath him. “You’ll need that later. I have plans for you.”

“Who are you?” It was all she could manage, and a sputter at that. She didn’t like this. She didn’t like it at all. She yanked at an arm, a foot. Thrust her hips in a vain attempt to release herself. Nothing worked.

“You look amazing, you know, writhing. Naked.”

“Who are you? What have you done to me?”

He tipped his head to the side. “Didn’t the Sisters warn you?” His voice was slick, smooth. He watched her struggling, twisting and turning against her bonds, as though it entertained him. She flicked a glance to his cock. Oh. Clearly, it entertained him a great deal. “Didn’t they warn you about the predator? The unworthy man who might try to seduce you? Capture you?”

Willow stilled. Realization dawned. It dawned slowly, filtering past her confusion and her frustration and her lust, but it finally percolated through. “You’re a warlock.”

His lips twisted. “One of the worst, I’m told.”

She yanked at the bonds holding her arms high over her head. “One of the worst?”

He laughed. “I’m one of the best when it comes to spells—especially spells for dominating sexy little witches and making them come. I’m the worst when it comes to following the rules. My favorite hobby is pursuing the forbidden fruit.”

Willow flinched. That was her. She was the forbidden fruit—novitiates were supposed to remain untouched by a warlock until after their Circle.

Her mind sputtered. How could this have happened? How could she have let this happen? How pissed would Skylar be? Willow paled. And Midea? How would she take this? What would
she
do?

“B-but how can you be a warlock? I didn’t sense your magic.”

“Foolish girl. The first thing a true predator does is disguise his own scent.”

Comprehension suddenly dawned, and with it, a hard ball blossomed in her belly. She’d really done it now. Not only had she broken the rules to use her magic to seduce a dazzling creature, that creature was none other than the very threat she’d been warned about oh-so-many times.

She looked down at her body as the ramifications hit home. She was ruined. Utterly ruined.

There were no visible signs she’d been claimed by a warlock. Her skin was still as flawless, as creamy and pink. But another warlock would sense it, smell it. Another warlock would see it as if it were painted across her forehead.

And none of them would want her.

At least not this cycle. And that meant…that meant she wouldn’t be able to participate in the ceremony. Wouldn’t become a true witch for…hell, for a very long time.

She lifted her head and glared at him. “Bastard.”

He inspected his fingernails. His aura dimmed, just a little. “Not according to my father.”

“Ooh!” She yanked and yanked again. Damn it, his spell was strong. He gave her a little wiggle room but not much. She hated being confined. Hated it. “Let me go.”

“I beg your pardon? That sounded suspiciously like an order.”

“Damn it, Austin, let me go. You’ve had your fun—”

“If I remember correctly, we both had fun—”

“You’ve ruined me. Absolutely ruined me.”

“You begged me to.”

“You…bastard!”

He snorted. “Did I completely misread the cues? Wasn’t it you who seduced me? Using magical means? Well in advance of your confirmation?” He stood and prowled toward her. Her skin tingled at his approach. “Seems to me you’re the one who broke the rules first.”

There was no response to that. He was right. She looked away, put out a lip.

“Don’t sulk, Willow. This is a game, and you’ve lost. Now it’s time to pay the price.”

She glanced up and—oh, she really shouldn’t have. His cock was at eye level…mouth level. It was heavy and full and straining toward her. She licked her lips. She’d never tasted him. Never really tasted him, anyway. And how she wanted to.

It annoyed her, given the circumstances. Her being bound by magical skeins and held in thrall to his power. But still…she wanted to lick him. Kiss him. Take the head of his beast in her mouth and suck…

She lifted her gaze to his and was gratified to see a flicker of lust lash him. She nudged closer—not physically, as she was bound—with her astral self. She nudged closer and stroked his bobbling rod.

He hissed through his teeth. “Kneel up.”

At his command, she found she could move, but only just. Her body seemed to kneel before him of its own accord. He pointed his cock at her, giving it a short tug or two as he approached. A milky droplet oozed at the tip and Willow licked her lips.

Oh, Gaia. She loved sucking cock. And she wanted this so badly. She wanted Austin’s cock in her mouth, shoving down her throat, spraying into her.

“Yes.” With all her strength, all her power, she willed him closer.

“This isn’t what I’d planned,” he murmured but he didn’t slow his step. And then he was there, before her, nudging at her lips.

She glanced at his face. It was tight, harsh. His skin was stretched over his cheekbones and pale. He looked…ravenous. Impatiently, he pressed against her lips once more, but Willow didn’t open them.

Oh, she wanted to. She longed to taste his musk, suck him into her cavern and make him beg for release. But two could play at this game. If he wanted to dominate her completely, then let him. Dominate her. Completely.

She saw the moment he realized what she was doing, allowing his spell to utterly command her. That she wasn’t going to open to him, welcome him, draw him in. Not until he demanded it.

His brows drew together and his nostrils flared. “Suck it.”

Ah. She parted her lips and took the fat head of his cock into her mouth. He tasted so good. Meticulously, she licked and sucked his swollen glans, nibbling and nuzzling and murmuring to herself in delight.

Naturally, he tried to nudge deeper. Willow allowed the spell, his spell, to stop his advance. He snarled a curse and pushed harder. Fisted his fingers in her hair and held her head as he tried to thrust.

She glanced at him and their gazes tangled. A message passed between them and he spat out another curse. He got it. Finally.

“God’s balls. Suck my cock, witch. Take it all the way in. Fuck me with your mouth.”

And she did. She fell on him, gobbled him, nibbling and tormenting his full length with her lips and her teeth and her tongue, sucking hard and deep until he growled with pleasure. He stood before her, head thrown back, his body tight and tense.

Willow loved it. She loved the feel of his cock in her mouth, plunging down her throat. She loved the tight grip he had on her head, controlling her motion, thrusting ever deeper. She loved the way he smelled, like lust on a leash, the way he tasted, the way his cock wept for release. She loved it all.

As did he.

But she knew…

She knew.

Had he given her free rein to consume him, it would have been even better. She would have blown his mind. As it was, he hadn’t commanded her to use her hands, to tickle his balls, to tease the tight hole of his pucker as she sucked him off.

Silly boy.

In constraining her, he had limited his own pleasure.

She would have done anything for him.
Anything
. Had he allowed it.

His cock stiffened even more, his muscles quivered. She knew his climax was coming.

She slowed her strokes.

He growled in response, tried to move faster.

She slowed even more, giving only the minimum effort the spell required.

Yes, she was a novice. But she was fresh from her studies. She knew things about spells, about the nature of magic, he’d probably long forgotten. Like skating the edge. Finding and riding the rim of compulsion.

It didn’t take long for his frustration to mount.

He snarled something profane and stepped back a bit, released his cock from her mouth. And then, with a flick of his hand, he tossed her back and arranged her. There was very little finesse in his style—simply arms and legs askew, tits up, body open. And he fell on her. He lifted her hips with his fingers digging deep in the flesh of her ass and shoved his cock into her.