Page 15 of Haunted Heart
“It’s not Latin.”
“No. Babylonian.” She glances at me. “Your grandmothers have neglected your education.”
She reads over the words, eyes narrowing before she says, “The spell works by using a living orgasm brought about by a being who’s partially in Hell.”
“Part of you is in Hell?”
She nods. “But it means that you could use either of the two downstairs if you’d prefer.”
“Ew, no. Not even if they were conscious and could consent to it.” I shudder at the idea. “I want you.”
It’s not simply that I’d prefer her over them. Iwanther.
This isn’t how I imagined having her, but… I slip my fingers in hers and look down at The Book once more.
Say the words, kiss her lips, find the pleasure amid her hips.
“It translates for language and intention?”
Julia sighs. “If we manage this and get back in one piece, you and I are going to have to fill some of the gaps in your knowledge. For your own safety.”
Taking a deep breath, I take off my coat and toss it onto the settee, letting my phone clunk heavily against the old padding. I’m not going to need that in Hell.
I cleaned the mattress in this room months ago, outfitting it with my own sheets so that I could sleep here when I lingered too late—or was simply too tired to be bothered to trek back across the field.
I’m grateful for that now.
I sit on the mattress to the symphony of old springs.
Julia scowls down at the book. “I think it will be best if I perform cunnilingus to achieve your orgasm.”
The clinical nature of the words reminds me that she’s been around a lot longer than I tend to think about. It’s so formal.
“If you’re sure,” I say, unzipping my boots and setting them aside.
She nods. “The spell only requires that you come… I’m not even sure I can anymore.”
I pull her to me, kissing her and wishing we had the time to find out. Her fingers caress my stomach, and she slips the zipper at my hip downward.
“I’m still learning what I can and can’t interact with.” Her fingers slip into my pants and she draws them down my legs, fingers hooking into my underwear as well.
But when she gets them off of my legs, they fall straight through her grip again. “I guess you have to be touching it for me to manipulate it.”
“I guess so.”
She turns from the pile of red fabric on the floor and looks at me with eyes fully dilated, like a cat ready to pounce.
I scoot back on the bed to give my feet better purchase and she follows. But when I reach for my shirt, she grabs my hand. “Not this time.”
“Okay.”
She kisses me. “I want to see all of you… when you’re truly mine. Not when something has forced us to race ahead.”
Her hands trail down my thighs, spreading me open for her.
“Say the spell, Genevieve. Let me make you come and lead you into Hell.”
I lick my lips and have to shove down the tiny selfish part of me that wants to leave the boys to fend for themselves a little longer.
