Page 5 of Spice
She bites her lip, looking up at me. “I do. It’s crazy, but I do. I don’t have an explanation for the way my magic reacts to you, and I just…have this feeling that I can trust you.”
“You can,” I say immediately. “I swear it.”
She nods and then brushes ever so slightly against me as she slips into the car, sending sparks jolting through my body. Magic pulses in the air, throbbing around me. I close my eyes and take a slow breath, fighting for control. She makes me want to pin her down and worship her body. She makes me want to fuck her slow for hours and hours. But there’s more to breaking the curse than just sex. There’s a ritual that will take control and focus. I need my wits about me, for both our sakes.
I slide in behind the wheel and start driving. She’s quiet, but she keeps sneaking glances at me. Even though my eyes are on the road, I feel that velvet brush of her gaze, giving her away.
“Um, where do you live?” she asks after several moments.
“In Moonveil. We should be there in another ten minutes.”
“Okay.” She reaches out for the radio at the same time as me, and once again our hands brush. Orange sparks ignite, flaring momentarily before dying. A thrill races up my arm, leaving me tingling and hungry for more. What will it feel like when we’re skin to skin? When I’m inside her and she’s coming all over my cock?
My balls give an almost painful throb in answer.
“For the record, I don’t have a habit of getting into cars at night with men I barely know to go have sex.”
I glance over at her. “Good to know.”
“In fact, I…” She trails off and then reaches for the radio again, this time successful in turning it on. “The Monster Mash” begins playing and she immediately turns to another station, landing on some pop song I don’t know.
“You what?” I ask gently. I want to know everything about her. If time was on our side, I’d date the hell of her. I’d get to know her, slowly and thoroughly. But we don’t have that option, unless the ritual in which I need to fuck her senseless is successful. Then, hopefully, Goddess willing, I’ll have the opportunity to get to know my intriguing little witch.
“I’m just not that experienced,” she says in a rush, looking away out the window. “I’m not…a virgin. But I’ve only ever had one boyfriend, it didn’t last long, and the sex was terrible. So. Just so you don’t get your hopes up too high.”
Leaving one hand curled around the steering wheel, I reach over and lay my hand on her thigh. The reaction is instantaneous, my magic thickening and swirling, my entire body tingling and pulsing. By the way she gasps and whips her head around to look at me, I know she feels it too. I can see the red sparkles floating in the pink shimmer of her magic. Her eyes are wide, lips slightly parted.
“Does…does this always happen with a witch and a warlock?” she asks breathlessly, and I slowly shake my head.
“No. I’m over two-hundred years old, and I haven’t exactly been a monk. This has only ever happened with you.”
I let the words hang in the air between us, wondering if she’ll come to the same suspected conclusion as me.
“Oh,” she says softly, and the way that sound wraps around my heart makes me grip the steering wheel tighter. Having my hand on her is stoking something inside me, and I feel like a wild, feral beast, ready to rut. I’d never expected finding Cordelia’s descendant and breaking the curse to feel like this.
And yet, amidst the chaos of lust and wonder and gratitude and hope, I also feel the unmistakable dull stab of guilt.
Because I haven’t told my pretty witch everything. Breaking the curse doesn’t just require sex.
I have to breed her.
To break the curse, I have to create a child with Cordelia’s descendant. I have to permanently tie my bloodline to hers to repair what I did. To make amends for what I took.
I just hope that our combined magics are enough to make conception possible tonight, no matter where she is in her cycle. Given how powerful she is, I think it’s very possible.
A horn blares, and I realize I’ve been sitting at a green light. I proceed through the intersection, my shoulders tense. My arm is pulsing, tingling, my palm hot and prickling pleasantly where it lies on her thigh. I don’t miss the way she squirms in her seat. I wonder how the one man she dated fumbled her—and a fumble it was, because she’s extraordinary—but I don’t ask. I add it to the list of things I want to know about her once we’ve broken the curse.
She shifts closer to me, and I inhale deeply. She smells like cinnamon and nutmeg with a hint of coffee.
Good enough to eat.
A few minutes later, we pull up in front of my house. It’s just outside of the town of Moonveil, and surrounded by forest on three sides. I bought it about a hundred and twenty years ago, when I came over from England, and I’ve lived here ever since.
“You live in a freaking castle?” says Willow, leaning forward and peering through the windshield.
“Not a castle. Just a large house.”
“That looks like a castle.”
