Page 28 of Cursed By the Love Witch

A hot shiver goes through me. Once more, my string is being pulled by an unseen force, and I’m powerless to fight it. My hand comes down on top of his, tracing the back of it. Skimming over his hard knuckles and veins, I bite my lip and drown in his stare.

“No,” I say, and it is the truth. “I only wish you had said something sooner.”

His low growl is music to my ears. It’s easy to flirt when it feels real to me. If I were an ethical witch, I’d call this all off. I’d risk giving him an antidote to end his affliction sooner, but I’m not a good witch. It’s selfish and wrong, but this may be the only chance to indulge in this buried fantasy of Bael before I leave.

We will not take things too far—sex is firmly off the table while he is under the effects of a love potion. However, flirting, touching, and, Goddess, spare me a stolen kiss or two is fair game. I need to experience it—him—just once before I graduate. That way, I can leave this place with no regrets.

I want him, and he needs me while the potion is still this potent.

His large hand lifts from under mine, rising to tuck a loose curl behind my ear. My heart races as his fingertips explore the shell of my ear before skimming over my cheek and the bridge of my nose. My face warms under his stare. Tucking his finger underneath my chin, he tilts my face higher. My eyes flutter shutas his head lowers. His nose nestles between my shoulder and neck, inhaling deeply.

He drags it along his fingers' path, and I wait to feel his lips on mine. The anticipation is delicious agony. My hands clench the desk before me as his lips skim over my ear. A delightful shiver runs down my spine.

“As tempting as you are, I will not use these tutoring sessions to have my way with you. You deserve to be properly courted, but more than that, I am your professor first. Improving your grade is my primary concern when you are here. Things will remain professional, you have my word.” I feel him smile against my ear. “Even as it’s taking all my restraint not to toss you up on my desk and strip you out of that little skirt.”

Before I can stop it, a moan slips out of my mouth. Bael pulls back, his eyes dark and wild. His voice is uneven when he speaks again.

“I’ve already set out your first exam on poisons and elixirs in my office. We will begin in there.”

With a wave of his hand, the books and notebooks strewn across my desk levitate, as does the bag hanging from my chair. They float through the air to a silver metal door behind his chalkboards. It squeaks open, and warm orange light spills across the stone floor.

Bael takes a step back and gestures towards it.

“After you.”

Rising on shaking knees, I gather my discarded cloak and fold it in my arms over my chest. I walk towards his office, his large body close behind mine. Once inside, the sight steals my breath.

A large hearth with a roaring fire snaps and crackles but puts off no eat. Hundreds of tall black and white candles make up the warm ambiance. A large maple wood desk sits in front of a high-back leather chair. Various papers and pots of ink are litteredacross its surface. On the walls hang various dissected bugs and plants. Five large bookcases take up any open free space—each nearly bursting with the amount of volumes stuffed on each shelf.

I glance at him over my shoulder, a smile on my lips.

“It smells like you in here.”

A shiver rolls through him, but he says nothing. I sink into the plush leather chair across from his desk. The cool material tickles my bare skin. I note that, with some interest, he doesn’t shut the door.

He settles in across from me, and I realize how deep I’ve fallen into all this. I’m hanging on his every word—every touch. If he breathed on me correctly, I would climax from it. This is wrong, and I don’t want it to stop. Ever.

Bael’s large hand runs over the parchment before him. My first exam—the only one I did seemingly decent on—now glares up at me with its barely passing grade. The High Warlock flips through it momentarily, a muscle in his jaw ticking before glancing up at me again.

“What do you remember from this lesson?”

Heat erupts on my cheeks, and it’s a fight not to drop his stare.

“Very little,” I admit.

Bael nods once, and with a wave of his hand, my notebook flops open to a blank page. A pen with a fresh pot of ink slides towards me.

“Then let us start at the beginning, yes?”

I nod eagerly and snatch up my pen.

“To understand death, we must first learn its causes. While it seems scary to some, it is a part of life. What is given must always be returned. But how? Time, of course, takes many. Illness, as well. But then there are more measured means ofinflicting death that we have control over. Let’s go over a few of those now…”

I hang on to Bael’s every word. Somehow, now that he’s only speaking to me, they seem to have a more substantial impact. He talks slower, rephrasing things in ways so I comprehend. After a few minutes of listening to his lecture, I understand better than ever before.

Not to mention, his authoritative teaching voice is turning me obscenely slippery between my thighs. Goddess help me.

As Bael continues, one thing becomes painfully clear to me: It won’t be easy to walk away from him at the end. I have a sinking suspicion that once all this is said and done, doing so might just break my heart.

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