He kissed lower, until he reached her breast, then sucked a nipple hard into his mouth. There was a hint of teeth that wasn’t quite biting. She moaned. He plucked at her other breast, pinching and pulling, sending shivers down her spine.
She squirmed in his grasp and felt his erection pressing against her leg. “Don’t you want to fuck me, Sir?” It wouldn’t take much to get her off, the way he had her feeling.
He let go of her nipple, and the sudden lack of suction made her gasp. “Oh, I do, my sweet little witch. I want to plunge my hard cock inside your wet pussy, stroke in and out of you.”
“You can, if you want to.”
“I know.” He grinned. “That’s enough, isn’t it? Knowing that at any moment I could push you to the couch and be inside you within seconds? I have a condom in my wallet, so that’s no worry. You don’t know when it will happen, if it will happen. And you have no control.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed.
“You wouldn’t last more than five strokes, the way you are right now.” He leaned back and looked her over, clearly enjoying the sight of her naked body.
“You can’t just let me be!” she cried. She ached for his touch. Her hand fluttered toward her thighs. She was used to taking care of her own orgasms. Far too used to that. She’d promised she’d let him decide, however, and she was a woman of her word. Besides, he’d catch her. She settled her hand on her leg and inched it toward the inside of her thigh, wanting to see what would happen.
He grabbed her hand. “Oh, a few moments of cooling off won’t hurt you. But I won’t just let you be. You wanted a spanking last time, and you never got it.”
“I did?”
He nodded.
She’d been curious, sure. She was curious now. Wanted? She bit her lip. “I don’t know about that.”
“Trust me.”
She hesitated. “Yes, Sir,” she said at last.
“Roll over. Ass in the air. Offer yourself to me of your own free will.”
Will. The first and most important ingredient in any spell: the will of the caster. Naturally, he wanted her will. Magic was about intentional acts. He needed more than her passivity, and she had more to give, although the idea of being wanton made the temperature rise in her cheeks.
She squirmed around until her bottom was presented as he’d asked. Her breasts were squished by the arm of the chair, and her arms had nowhere better to go than to dangle down toward the floor.
His hand caressed the bottom curve of her ass, cupping it perfectly. He drew it back, and she tensed in anticipation. He returned his hand, gently.
“Don’t try to predict it, Marisa. You don’t need to. You just need to let it happen. If it’s too much, you can use your safe word, but you’ll know if it’s too much. You don’t need to analyze it. It’s not like a computer program.”
“It’s more like magic.”
He chuckled. “Maybe it is, at that.”
His little laugh relaxed her. His hand stung her backside a moment later, and her whole body reacted—spine arched, shoulders tense. And then she breathed. It wasn’t so bad.
He swatted her again, the sting turning into a warmth that quickly spread from her bottom to her pussy. In her dread of the pain, she’d forgotten for a moment how turned on she’d been. It didn’t take much to remind her. She pressed her mound against his thigh. If it was closer to his knee, she thought she could probably get off, but even his hard muscled thigh wasn’t enough.
He continued to spank her, the stings and warmth mixing and getting confused in her mind. Her butt ached, but it didn’t hurt. Or it hurt, but it wasn’t bad. Or something. He was right. She couldn’t figure it out; she had to just feel. He mixed in a few soft caresses, and she found herself thrusting her ass out to let him know she was ready for more. And wanted it harder.
He obliged. She wanted to test herself, to see how much she could take. For him. For her. She felt as if she was drunk, with that familiar buzz that suggested she could do anything combined with being too relaxed to bother. She’d thought that she’d want to get away, but she wanted more. Another slap. Was that too much to ask for? She was so turned on.
Instead he slipped his hand between her legs and found her clit. “Now, Marisa.”
She came like a rocket. Her thighs clenched his hand, and her hands clawed the side of the chair. Shudders went up and down her spine. And her pussy felt as if there was a fireworks display going on between her legs. “Goddess!”
“Just me and you, honey,” he whispered to her softly. She could barely hear him. Her senses were overloaded with all the signals her body was sending, and it wasn’t until the shudders subsided that she recollected what he said.
His hand feathered over her hot bottom, his touch cool and refreshing, although it made her tingle too. She’d lost track of how many times he’d smacked her butt. Now it was hot and achy. His fingers were soothing and almost too much at the same time. She wondered how sitting down would feel. She didn’t think she wanted to find out right away. But she wanted him inside her. Her pussy had contracted around emptiness as she came, and if there was one thing that could have been better, it was having a something to squeeze.
She caught her breath enough to ask, “Make love to me?”
He grinned. “That’s what I’ve been doing.”
He was right, of course. “Fuck me?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Such language. Do you kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?”
She flipped over and kissed him hard in answer, and then wondered if she’d been too hasty. Not that she was going to stop her tongue from swirling against his. But boyfriend? That implied a relationship, something beyond a quick fuck. Certainly more than just something to get her magic back on track.
It sounded kinda nice actually. “Apparently,” she said, in between kisses. “Sir.”
He kissed her back with hunger.
Now that she was sitting on his leg, her butt hurt as much as she thought it might. She tried to get comfortable. She failed.
He jerked his knee, making her bounce on his leg, and of course that made her feel it even more.
Bastard
. But in a way she was glad she could feel what he’d done to her. And he knew it too. She could tell from his eyes.
He pulled a condom wrapper from his pocket and then undid the zipper on his pants. His long hard cock sprang free, even bigger than she remembered it being. It had featured in far too many of her fantasies the past few weeks, and her vibrator had been a poor substitute. He rolled a condom over it, then took hold of her hips, moving her so that she straddled him and positioning his cock at the entrance to her pussy.
She wanted to lower herself, take him in, and feel his cock stretch her. Instead something made her wait for his signal.
He locked gazes with her. For a moment everything was frozen, and then he pulled her down. She pushed, wanting to take all of him in one thrust, even though a little rocking back and forth would have made it easier.
Screw easy
. The burn on her ass was evidence enough that they didn’t do easy. Besides, he didn’t hurt going in. It was just intense.
He moved her hips back with firm hands and then filled her again with a hard thrust. The chalice and the knife had always been safe, a mutual joining. This was raw, messy. They both wanted it, but he was in control. Not only because he was stronger—although she loved the way he could move her body as he pleased and the way he made her feel lithe and weightless—but because she’d surrendered. The fact that she was on top physically didn’t change that.
His pubic bone bashed her clit. His cock stroked her deep inside. But it wasn’t until he moved his hands slightly, to grab her sore butt and squeeze it, that she felt the tension in her core beg to be released once more.
She loved the urgency in his eyes, wanted to give him the same pleasure that he’d given her. Or more. She squeezed his cock and grabbed his shoulders for leverage so she could rock back onto him with as much ferocity as he drove into her.
She remembered that she wasn’t supposed to come until he gave permission. Did that still apply after the first time? She didn’t know. “May I?”
His eyes widened. She’d surprised him. “Not yet,” he said.
She nodded, not disappointed. It would be better, the longer she waited. Better if it was at his command too. She didn’t know why that was, but she was absolutely sure of it.
“Just one more,” he said, his voice hoarse. His cock was swelling inside her. “Just one… Yes. Now!”
She shuddered and felt his cock pulse inside her. Then she joined him, her pussy clenching around his cock. Someone was moaning, and it took her a moment to realize it was her. She closed her eyes. Pleasure rippled from her pussy into her core. Her breasts felt heavy, and the cool grip of his hands made her ass tingle.
She opened her eyes again to see his smile.
“We really are pretty good together, aren’t we?” he asked.
“Well, when we’re not talking, anyway,” she said and then regretted it.
But he nodded, his eyes closing for a few seconds.
“Tired?” she asked softly.
“Yeah. Was up dealing with drunks half last night, only got an hour and half of sleep.” He shifted his weight, sat up straighter, looking apologetic.
She patted him on the chest, her hand brushing up against the badge he wore. “It’s okay. Rest. More later, please, Sir?”
“You’ve got it. And Marisa?”
“Hmm?”
“I think we can talk okay too, actually. Maybe we need more practice.”
She smiled. “I’d like that, very much.”
He nodded and jerked his hips back slightly, pulling out of her. She was sorry to let him go, but she supposed he couldn’t stay in her pussy forever. He pulled the condom off, pulled up his zipper, and laid his head back against the back of the chair.
“Wouldn’t you be more comfy in the bed?”
He shook his head. “I can sleep anywhere. Besides, I don’t want to let you go, and I’m tired enough I don’t want to carry you.”
That he could carry her when he was fully awake was amazing enough. She squeezed him. It felt good to be snuggled up against him. She could fall asleep that way herself if she didn’t have work to do.
It only took him minutes to fall asleep. Reluctantly, she slipped out of his arms.
It was too cold to go outside naked, and she didn’t want to put any clothes on, although she dithered about it. She’d always felt it was better to be outside and dressed than inside and naked, as far as magic went, but this time felt different. He’d taken her clothes off, for one thing. She wanted to stay naked for him. Maybe the submissive in her was overriding her best magical judgment, but she didn’t think so. There was a fine line between doing whatever she wanted and trusting her instinct. This time she decided to stay inside.
She went to the bedroom. She tossed the sheets and blankets off the bed because she wanted it flat, and it was easier than making it. On the bed she sat cross-legged, placing her hands on her knees, trying to open herself up to the divine. She reached out her mind for Jerry Mackey, trying not to be too forceful, but to yield to the ebbs and flows of the psychic world.
She felt a strong connection and pull but had to shake it off. She knew what that was. It was Nolan, sleeping in her chair. She would have loved to eavesdrop on his dreams, but that wasn’t right, and even if it had been, there was more important work to do.
She reached out calmly. The minutes ticked by. She lost sense of time. The only motion was her breathing, and that was regular, the same one moment to the next. Time was the same. Place was the same. And after a short or long while, she found her spirit in the presence of a very frightened young man sitting in a chair in a dark basement.
Nolan didn’t know how long he’d been sleeping when she shook him awake. “What?” Disoriented, he straightened and reached for his phone. Normally when he woke up suddenly, his phone was ringing. This time it was a beautiful naked woman. Much better.
“It’s me,” Marisa said. “Jerry’s in trouble.”
“Where?” It was the question he usually had to ask when the phone woke him up, so he could do it on automatic while he struggled to full consciousness.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. But I can feel it. He’s scared. Maybe people with him are scared too. There was lots of fear overwhelming everything else. I don’t think that can be a good thing.” She looked pretty agitated herself, so much so that he held back his initial instinct to hold her. He touched her shoulder instead.
“I’ll get control of myself,” she told him. “I just felt it. It was so strong. And I’m worried for Jerry. He’s just a kid.”
The haze lifted. A cup of coffee would help but wasn’t essential. “Jerry’s an adult, legally. Ten years younger than you, at most, I’d guess.”
Marisa laughed. “You’re lovely.”
His eyes narrowed. Jerry was nineteen. He didn’t know how old Marisa was exactly.
“I’m old enough to be his mom,” she supplied, “but we’ll leave that be. And I don’t know where he is, so maybe I should have let you sleep.” She sat down on the cushion, half-kneeling, her legs folded under her at an angle. “I know what I saw, but it’s not much help, even if you do believe me.”
Nolan frowned. He didn’t believe, but he believed her. And he wasn’t going to leave any stone unturned. He was going to act on the notion that what she saw was absolutely true, and see where it took the investigation and where it took them as a couple in the process. “Lots of times witnesses see things they don’t think help. But they do. You sensed fear. And other people. Can you describe them?”
She shook her head. “No, not really.”
He smiled at her. “Why were they afraid, do you think?”
She sighed. “I don’t know.”
“How about Jerry? What’s he afraid of?”
“I don’t know. Something he saw, but that part wasn’t at all clear. He’s hungry too.” She paused, as if she was holding something back.
“What?”
“I had a strong sense of Oreos.”
“Oreos?”
She shrugged. “I knew you’d laugh at me.”
“Couldn’t be an off-brand? Some other kind of creme-filled cookie?”
That got him a glare.
He still couldn’t believe he was trying to find out the details of a psychic vision as part of an investigation, but there it was. He’d have to keep moving through it and see where it led.