Page 26 of Enslaved By Magic

Chapter 11

Later when the house was silent and dark, and she was sure he was deeply asleep, she emerged from her bottle dressed in nothing but a flimsy scrap of lace and gauze designed to emphasize her body while covering very little at all. She moved quietly down the hall to his room and stood there in the doorway. With the soft glow from the hallway backlighting her, she knew it would show off her perfect silhouette. She was tempted to make a noise to wake him so he would look over and see her framed like that.

But she wasn’t sure if the sight of her alone would be enough to overcome his resistance, though, and she really wanted—needed—him to give in. If he didn’t, if he continued to stick to his morals, she felt like she’d go insane with the insatiable need that nothing else seemed to fulfill anymore. She crept across the floor, testing each board to make sure it wouldn’t creak when she put her weight on it, and when she got to the side of his bed, she just stood there and watched him for several minutes.

He was beautiful like that, half in shadows with a splash of light sectioning his bare chest. She wanted so badly to kiss him. His loose t-shirts hadn’t made it clear how toned his muscles were, but now that she was getting a good look, she could see she’d underestimated his strength. He was tall and lanky, yes, but his frame was solid and tight.

Her fingers itched to play across his skin, to skim the lines of his abs as they worked their way down to what was hidden beneath the blanket, and she gave in to that urge, but slowly. She took the comforter by the edge and carefully tugged it all the way down to the bottom of the bed so she could see all of him. The fact that he wore a loose pair of boxers was a small disappointment, but one she planned to overcome.

She settled on the bed, moving with all the speed of a sleepy sloth so she didn’t disturb him until she settled over his thighs. With one knee on either side of his legs, she straddled them and slowly lowered herself until her mouth was just inches from his flat stomach and the trail of dark curls that disappeared under the waistband. Her warm breath tickled across his skin and he made a sleepy noise, but it wasn’t enough to wake him—yet.

Her tongue darted out to lap at his skin like a kitten and he stirred, slowly at first but then with an abruptness that startled a yelp out of her as she fell backward. She nearly went over the side of the bed, and only an ungraceful scramble kept her from hitting the floor.

“What the hell?” he shouted. “Amari?”

She huffed, tossing her long hair back over her shoulder as she moved to find a pose that didn’t look quite so awkward. “What?” she said, snapping the word as if she were the injured party here. She didn’t really have an explanation for what she was doing there, other than the obvious.

“What are you doing in my bed in the middle of the night—dressed like that?” he demanded. It sounded like he was gritting his teeth and trying to find his patience.

“Acting like a free woman and making a choice,” she said. Her sugar-sweet tone seemed to irritate him, and his eyes narrowed.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked in an ominous tone that warned her that bad things were about to happen.

She shifted on her knees, tilting her head to one side. “You mean how you seem to think it would be wrong to take ‘advantage’ of me, even though I’ve made it obvious that I want this? I didn’t forget; I just think it’s stupid,” she said.

“Not quite. We’re going to talk about that after though.”

“After what?” she asked, curiously. She half-expected what was about to happen but it was still a surprise when his hand snapped out and wrapped around her wrist, suddenly dragging her closer to him.

“Apparently you don’t remember our new rule. You know? The one where I told you that any time you do something to me without my consent, I was going to spank your ass? I think I was pretty clear about it, Amari,” he said.

She swallowed hard and her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip nervously. She hadn’t expected it to go this way—maybe she should have, but she’d really thought that finding her in his bed he’d have no choice but to give in to his baser urges and take her. It was frustrating that she kept underestimating this man.

Worse, earlier she’d thought that maybe she did want him to spank her again, but now that she was facing it, she couldn’t help but remember how much it had hurt last time. It was bound to be worse now, especially since he’d said she wouldn’t be allowed to ask the bottle for healing—but.

But she couldn’t deny there’d been something oddly exciting about the way he’d pulled her across his lap and spanked her. There’d been a sense of something settling inside of her that she wasn’t used to feeling, and, of course, afterward there had been other sensations that she hadn’t been prepared for. Would that happen again, or had it just been a one-time fluke? There was only way to answer that question.

“I didn’t hurt you,” she said slowly. “It wasn’t a prank like before. This was different.”

“That’s not the point. I told you no and I explained why. I’ve explained why over and over again, but you won’t listen. Amari you are…” He paused and sighed, a little bit of the irritation on his face smoothing out. “You’re beautiful, and desirable. If the situation was different, I’d be happy to find you naked in my bed but until I can be sure you’re making your own choices, that’s not going to happen.”

“But—”

“Not. Going. To. Happen,” he repeated with steel in each word. “What is going to happen is the spanking I promised you.”

She wanted to tell him off and didn’t bother to hide the scowl on her face. If only he would listen to her, she could clear up his concerns, but before she could attempt it, he was manhandling her across his lap. The skimpy little thing she wore slid right up over her backside leaving nothing covering her rump but an even skimpier pair of panties that left most of each cheek exposed.

Her stomach did a slow flip that sent a shiver of anticipation rolling through her body. How could she dread and want something at the same time? It made no sense at all, but when his hand settled lightly on one bare cheek, she lost track of her thoughts and surrendered to the feelings she couldn’t even describe. For more years than she could count, she’d hated being forced to obey any random stranger who just happened to end up with her bottle, but it was different with him.

Somehow, it felt different. The more he refused to take, the more she wanted to give. She squirmed under his touch, muscles tensing, waiting for him to start, but he was taking his time. Unlike the hurried angry spanking in the kitchen, this time he wasn’t rushing.

“Tell me why we’re doing this,” he said.

An order, so she had to answer, and she couldn’t lie—but there was always more than one truth. “Because you’re having trouble keeping your hands off of me and you’re worried if I keep tempting you, you won’t be able to resist,” she said. She could hear the low breathiness of her voice and wondered if he could tell that part of her wanted this.

His hand rose and then slapped down hard across one cheek. “Is that so?”

“Yes—but if you’ll just listen to me, I can convince you that I want this. It’s not the magic; it’s not the bottle, it’s me,” she said. He was silent. She could feel the heat of his palm as it hovered over her bare skin while he, she hoped, considered her words.

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