Page 60 of Cursed By the Love Witch

BAEL - FIVE YEARS LATER

The bell rings as I give out twenty pages of reading and two at-home spell kits to be completed over the weekend.

Some of my peers have claimed I’ve lost my edge over the years, but never with take-home spellwork. The students rush out quickly as I remove the papers from my desk. I nearly sigh with relief at the day being over. Each hour seems to drag on for an eternity when I’m away from her—especially when I know this is her free period.

I glance into the mirror at the far end of the room. The graying hair at my temples and the faint wrinkles around my eyes are new. I remained unchanged for many years. Now, each day brings something different. I’m grateful for these changes, especially when Darcee told me the gray hair makes me look even sexier.

Darcee. My love, my mate, my wife—all of this is only possible because of her. We married four years ago under a new moon. It was a small ceremony with only Saege, Raen, her best friend Prue, and Prue’s fiancé Zander in attendance. She was avision in her white dress—the white lacy undergarments she had on beneath it were even more delicious.

As if my thoughts had summoned her, I see her part through the crowd of my departing students. They whisper their hello’s to Mistress Fangborne before the last one trickles out. Her black pointed hat sits atop her curly pink head. A cloak drags on the floor behind her, and her heels click on the stone floor. Black gloves cover her tiny hands, and magenta eyes sparkle with mischief as she looks at me.

It didn’t take long for her to realize the apothecary was more work than it was worth. After our first night together, she took Saege up on her offer to teach. When she’s not teaching students love magic here at Axwyne, she works as a freelance love witch in her own store that I bought for her as our first anniversary present.

Speaking of presents, it’s no mystery why all my students were rushing to get out of here. It’s Lupercalia—a festival of love and devotion. Darcee and I have already been celebrating. She gifted me a new cauldron and fresh spell candles while I gave her the largest tower of rose quartz I could find. We made love until we had to get ready for the day.

A party is being held on the grounds tonight, but I have a more intimate evening planned with just my wife.

My wife—who’s standing a few steps away from my desk, looking very coy. A delicate flush breaks out across her cheeks. She catches my eye before shyly looking away. I smirk knowingly.

“Professor Fangborne,” she sighs, batting her pink eyelashes at me.

The blood roars in my veins, and my cock hardens instantly. She wants to play my wicked little witch. I morph my features into a steely mask of disapproval.

“Miss Thistle,” I say, watching her pupils dilate.

“I know my grade in your class isn’t up to standard.”

I shake my head. “You haven’t been applying yourself nearly enough, young lady.”

White teeth sink into her lip. Contrition spreads over her lovely face.

“I’m doing my best, professor, I swear.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean against the front of my desk.

“Perhaps you require extra tutoring.”

Her eyes widen, and fresh color swims in her cheeks.

“Would—would you be so kind as to help me?”

I nod once, itching to grab her.

“As your professor, I want to see you do your best.” I narrow my eyes. “You have a lot of work to do, and it won’t be easy.”

Darcee smiles and walks closer to me. The sweet scent of lilacs invades my nostrils.

“I have a lot of experience with hard things,” she whispers.

Swallowing my groan, I lean closer to her.

“Is that so?”

She nods, her gloved hand falling to the bulge in my pants. Giving it a rough squeeze, she looks up at me from under her lashes.

“Maybe we could come to some sort of arrangement.”

“What did you have in mind?”

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