Page 25 of Twisted Magic

“I find I’m tired after that climb, not to mention riding all night to chase after my familiar.” Jadren faked a yawn. “Bring my father here. We can all have a nice family lunch, after I have a nap.”

Katica visibly fumed, her magic so jagged in the air that Jadren half-expected to be fried by lightning bolts. “There are limits to what I will tolerate from you,” she warned him.

“No doubt,” he agreed, very aware of the risk he ran. “But it seems we haven’t found them yet. Now run along. Fetch.”

She glared at him a moment longer, white-hot with fury, then spun on her heel and stalked out.

Seliah sagged against him. “Was that wise?” she asked, tipping up her face. “If you taunt her too far, she’ll do anything to get her piece of flesh back.”

“I’m sorry,” he told her, feeling as if his chest might crack open with the sheer relief at embracing his beloved again. He pulled Seliah close, holding her far too tightly and unable to make himself let go, or even relax the tiniest amount.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” she said, breathless. “It was entertaining to witness, I just worry that your mother will—”

“Not that.” At least interrupting Seliah’s absurd misapprehension broke through his paralysis and he took her by the shoulders, staring into her peculiarly beautiful face. “I’m sorry I was an ass. I’m sorry I lost my temper and goaded you and Liat, that I said that shitty stuff about red-misting rodents. Even though I pretty much hate all rodents, they don’t deserve that, and you definitely didn’t deserve me behaving so badly and—”

“Jadren,” she broke in gently, framing his face in her palms, lightly stroking his cheekbones with her fingertips in a soothing caress that went right through him, her water and moon magic cooling his ashen edges. “It’s all right. You had a bad day is all.”

“That’s not all.” He lifted his hands to grip her wrists, though he didn’t pry her hands away. Couldn’t make himself step away any more than he’d ever been able to leave her alone. “If I hadn’t been so self-indulgent, having a temper tantrum instead of working to learn, you wouldn’t have been alone to be captured like this and—”

“Jadren,” she broke in again, with more emphasis, smiling a little through her obvious exasperation. “They’d been watching me, watching us, and simply waited for the opportunity. It was sheer coincidence that I was alone because of that terrible session. They could have grabbed me at any point. Fyrdo even warned us in that letter, with that line about transportation being closer than we realized.”

“I thought of that, too,” he told her ruefully. “Too late to do any good. If I had realized, I wouldn’t have left you so vulnerable.”

“Need I remind you that I am the one who stormed out of our session? I lost my temper—do you hold me to blame?”

“Yes,” he told her, trying to look angry.

She blinked, taken aback, then sharpened her gaze. “You do not.”

“I do blame you,” he insisted. Dark arts how he loved this woman. “More, I think you need to be punished. A spanking should do the trick.”

“Jadren!” she shrieked as he swept her up and carried her into the bedroom, struggling, but not fighting him with her wildcat strength as he knew she could if she wanted to. “You said you’re tired from riding all night.”

“An excuse to get rid of my mother. I’m feeling quite frisky.”

“Well, she’ll be back any moment.”

“Not even close,” he assured her, sitting on the bed and draping her over his lap. “Besides, the house likes you. Tell it to delay her until I’m done with you.” He pinned her with a firm hand on her lower back, dragging up the frothy skirts to reveal the pretty Ophiel lingerie barely covering Seliah’s perfect ass, made all the more enticing by her delightful squirming and kicking.

“I can’t do that,” she protested. “I—” Whatever she’d been about to say cut off with a yelp of shock as he smacked that lovely behind, leaving a satisfying handprint behind on her creamy skin. “Jadren,” she breathed raggedly as he ran a caressing hand over that hot mark, unbearably stirred by the sight of his imprint on her. “Please.” She wriggled against his caressing hand, her sex burning against his thigh.

“Please what?” he asked, his voice hoarse. She was right—they didn’t have time for this, but he wanted her too much to stop.

“Ward the door,” she said, going lax and languid over his lap, even lifting her bottom in wordless entreaty.

“Excellent idea.” Later they would discuss how she’d gotten the house to modify itself for her. Replete with her water and moonlight, their magic burgeoning together with the erotic play—the perfect rationalization for indulging himself this way—he threw up wards on the door and the windows to the wrap-around balcony, belatedly realizing why his maman had been so shocked by his arrival over the balcony rail. The house had been thoroughly warded against ingress, layers and layers of enchantments over the years preventing anyone from entering without the current head of the house knowing and giving permission. Somehow, in accommodating Seliah’s wishes, the house had also willfully shed those barriers to allow him in.

The realization filled him with exhilaration. Things were looking up. In celebration, he smacked Seliah’s vulnerable bottom several times in succession, thrilling to her excited moans of encouragement. “I should have punished you like this sooner,” he said, dragging the lacy panties down her thighs to expose all of her to his gaze. “You’re mine to do with as I please, aren’t you?”

She made an incoherent sound of agreement, fingers digging into the coverlet as she pressed her face into the bed. He spanked her several more times, loving how each stinging slap made her melt against him. Unable to deny himself any longer, he slipped his fingers into the crevice between her thighs, finding her hot and slick to the touch, and she cried out, clenching against him. With a consuming shudder, she orgasmed, her paler bottom flexing in the frame of the deep blue ruffles of the skirt. He knew her body now, knew how to prolong the pleasure, milking the climax so that she cried out several more times, her movements increasingly frenzied.

As the last climax wracked her, he stood, carrying her with him and dropping her on her back, bare legs dangling over the edge of the bed, the dress rucked up around her waist, the lacy panties still trapped around her long thighs. She held up her arms to draw him in.

He pointed at her. “Don’t move.”

She gazed up at him in heated, bleary confusion, amber eyes dark with passion. “What—where are you going?”

He retrieved those sexy heels from the other room, picking up Seliah’s feet and propping one foot against his thigh as he buckled the straps onto her other foot. She watched him in bemusement. “I like these shoes,” he told her. “Only good thing Maman has ever done.” He licked the insole of her foot, arched and exposed by the multiple straps, rewarded by her gasp of erotic response.

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