Page 35 of The Fearless Witch

His face grew even redder, and it took some effort to keep my smile up. This was going to be like stealing candy from a baby—extremely easy, and an entirely shitty thing to do.

I caught Nym’s eyes again, giving him a subtle nod. He jumped off the table, heading toward the door on silent feet. Cyrus was too focused on me to even notice.

“I’m not really into such…” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking at a loss for words. “...meaningless encounters.” He peeked at me as if to check my reaction, then dropped his hand with a sigh. “I think love between people should mean something and then they will…” I leaned toward him and he instinctively sank back into his chair, staring at me with wide eyes. “...get to know each other, grow close over time, and eventually…” His eyes lowered to my mouth, and the blush crept to his ears. “...consummate that love after…” I rose from my chair and strode his legs, smirking when his throat bobbed and he made a small, surprised noise. He stood so still, I was afraid he might turn into a statue. “W-W-What are you doing?”

“We’ve known each other for two thousand years,” I said, pressing myself against him and bringing my lips to his neck. I kissed him gently, and he shuddered, but I continued to add peck after peck until I could feel him shifting beneath me. “It was mostly one-sided because you wouldn’t show yourself, but it still counts, right? This means we are already close.”

“Whaaaa…” he started, but when I nibbled at his earlobe, his words turned into a breathy moan.

“I’m already feeling closer to you than most of my current friends. And on top of that, I’m a witch. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“N-n-no?” he said hesitantly. As I rolled my hips against his, he moaned again. He was already hard, his cock struggling against the confines of his briefs and pulsating between my legs in a way that was mildly distracting.

“Witches need sex to keep their magic stable and you had me locked up here for days,” I murmured, leaving another trail of feathery kisses along his jaw. When my mouth brushed against his, I held his gaze, sliding my hands down his chest until they reached his bulge.

“You… shouldn’t be doing this,” Cyrus whispered in a ragged breath. “H-h-he is getting… mad. Really mad.”

“He is not in control now, is he?” I purred, getting off his lap so I could kneel between his legs. A strange sense of trepidation fluttered in my stomach, moving lower and lower even though I was in full control of my faculties. This wasn’t about lust, not mine anyway, this was about misdirection.

I dragged my nails over his naked tights, pushing them apart just as he covered his crotch with his hands. It took a great effort not to laugh, especially when his face had turned so red, I wouldn’t have been surprised if steam poured out of his ears. “This has nothing to do with him. He clearly said he wasn’t interested in me.” I gave him my most seductive smile, pressing my lips against his knee as I added, “This is between me and you.”

Cyrus gasped when I glided my hands to cover his, gently unclasping his stiff fingers. His toned chest and bulging pecs looked even more enticing from this angle and, for a moment, I forgot that I wasn’t doing this just for the pleasure of it.

Freeing his erection, I smiled as his cock pointed at the ceiling, so impressively hard that with the first swipe of my tongue over its length, it wasn’t just Cyrus moaning. He tasted of fire and ash, but the deeper I took him into my mouth, the tastier it got. I wasn’t lying when I said that the side of me that craved pleasure was getting louder, but it had been vastly exaggerated… until now. I had to remind myself to focus several times or I would have just let myself go and enjoyed the body in front of me, regardless of who held its leash.

“This feels so good…” Cyrus rasped, his hand sliding into my hair. I expected him to push me down so I would take him deeper, but he gently pulled me back until his cock popped out of my mouth. “But we… shouldn’t be doing this.” His expression looked downright tortured, but when I tried to lean closer, his hold on my hair tightened. “Not like this. You deserve more, Celeste. You… deserve better.”

“What if I don’t want more? What if I want this?” I said, sharper than I intended. This was the first time a man resisted me for such a stupid reason and it had the worst possible timing. I needed him enthralled with me, his full attention on my pleasure—or his, it didn’t matter—not thinking about consequences and morality.

Cyrus tugged me up until we were both standing. Trapped between him and the table, I expected him to toss me on top of it and act like the menacing thug he stole the body from, but he just cupped my face gently.

“I… this… if we keep going…” he whispered, staring at my mouth like he had a hard time focusing. “I’m not…”

My arms tightened around his neck and I dragged him down until his lips were on mine. Sliding onto the table, I wrapped myself around him. Every ragged breath he took had his hard muscles brushing against my breasts, every wild beat of his heart sending jolts of desire down to my aching core.

For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t return the kiss, but then his tongue slipped hesitantly into my mouth, tasting and exploring with maddening slowness. His kiss was sloppy, but his hands moved with clear intention when one of them sneaked between my legs and rubbed against my aching clit. I hemmed in encouragement, angling my hips until I felt his gentle prodding at my entrance. We both moaned when he slid inside two fingers, his breath coming out in rasps as he drove them deeper.

“Ngh,” he groaned against my mouth and my eyes snapped open, making me realize I had allowed my mind to wander again. His breathing had turned ragged, his hand squeezing my waist almost painfully as his cock rubbed against the inside of my thigh. The wet sounds his fingers made as he fucked me with them made me desperate for something more, something bigger and harder. Before I knew it, I was wrapping my hand around his cock. Cyrus froze and shuddered. “He really doesn’t want me to do this.”

His eyes fluttered open, and I watched as the gray in them darkened, the demon inside pushing for control. I stared back, willing him to go away, but that only seemed to draw him closer.

“He’s… fighting me and I… he…” Cyrus tried to step back, but I tightened my hold on him. I wasn’t letting this chance go. I doubted Beleth would allow me to get this close again, so it was now or never. “He is…”

I slid one hand to the back of his head while he gave me an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry,” he said when his smile started to fade.

“I’m sorry too,” I whispered right before I caught his jaw with my other hand and snapped his neck.

His eyes cleared, frozen in shock and rage, and then he crumpled to the floor. I jumped off the table, wobbling on my weak knees, and ran toward the door. My insides throbbed painfully, but I ignored the uncomfortable guilt that made me feel dirty and nauseous. I was leaving that for later when I was out of this godforsaken place.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the handle and twisted. To my surprise, there was no resistance—the damn thing wasn’t even locked!—so as I stepped outside, all I felt was the touch of a ward. No alarms, no traps, nothing.

The heat hit me first, making me hiss in pain as the scorching, humid air burned my lungs. The smell came next—a mix of blood, rotting flesh, and sulfur tinted with something I couldn’t place. The hair on my neck rose and my insides churned with disgust. Then there were the noises, the lights, and the darkness, the distinctive vibrations that seemed to be coming from the ground itself, and the crimson sky that swayed and bent with some invisible wind.

I stumbled, catching myself on the doorframe.

“Mistress,” Nym’s voice startled me, and I whipped around to find him standing by the gaping door. “We should hurry.”

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