Cast a Lover's Spell

by Claire Thompson

“No? So you lied about that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “So I could implicate her, keep her mouth shut.” For a second a struggle seemed to pass over Langley’s face like a spasm. Then his expression smoothed again.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

  “What the hell is this?” Langley’s attorney leapt to his feet. Turning to Langley he demanded, “Robert, what do you think you’re doing? Are you drunk?”

  “No,” Langley said, now turning to face his attorney with a calm expression. “I’m not drunk.”

  “Well then I think we need to take a break so I can consult with my client.”

  “I think we’ll hear a little more of what he has to say first,” the DA said dryly. “Explain yourself, sir. Just exactly what is your relationship with Ms. Kaliner?”

  As the attorney sank into his chair, Langley continued unperturbed. “Well. I worked with her a few years ago on a business deal. She was the uptight token cunt they employed to pretend they were equal opportunity employers, even though we all know better. Women belong in the kitchen or on their knees with a cock in their mouths—”

  “I demand this stop at once!” Langley’s attorney was again on his feet, slamming the table with his fist. “My client is temporarily deranged.”

  “That he may be. But we’re going to hear him out now,” Mr. Shafer said in a hard voice, a peculiar gleam in his eye. “Go on, Mr. Langley. So you lied when you stated Ms. Kaliner was your lover. Why was that?”

  “To disprove her accusations against me. I figured if I could smear her enough, she’d lose her nerve and shut up. It worked too. She’s the one who said if I pay her fifty thousand, she’d drop the whole thing. She’s been humiliated enough, she says.” Again Langley’s face twisted. He flushed slightly and opened his mouth as if trying to speak but snapped it shut again.

  One could have heard a pin drop as the men stared at Langley in utter disbelief. “So you did it then?” Detective Spencer said softly. “You abducted and sexually assaulted this woman, just as she claimed?”

  “Yes. But the cunt deserved it. She rejected me. She humiliated me. She thought she was better than me.” He waved his hand dismissively toward her. “Anyway, I didn’t really hurt her. She got the spanking she deserved and I got to see her naked. I just scared her, is all. Reminded the little bitch who’s in charge in this world. Men rule and money talks.” Smiling oddly toward Anne, who looked away, he added, “That’s the way of the world, little lady.”

  “Jesus,” Shafer said. “It’s like he swallowed a truth serum or something.” Langley’s attorney looked positively green.

  Paul said, “Gentlemen, I know you have great many questions for Mr. Langley. Such as how he managed to obtain false records and ticket stubs for Ms. Kaliner and himself, as well as where he purchased the barbiturates used to drug her, the wig and contacts for his disguise, the details as to how he obtained the room where he held her and all the other premeditated actions he took in his plan to stalk, kidnap, torture and terrorize Ms. Kaliner. You might ask him what other women he’s abused in the past. And if you’ve time, perhaps a review of his business dealings would be in order.”

  He stood up from the table. “With your permission, Ms. Kaliner has been through more than enough and doesn’t care to relive the hideous details through this man’s testimony. Anne?” He turned toward Anne, who stood as well. Gently he took her arm.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” Detective Spencer said. Anne nodded without speaking. As they left the room, the questioning began again. The men had about fifty minutes left to drag the truth from the sorry bastard. When the powder wore off, Langley would again be free to lie and twist the truth to suit himself. But by then it would be too late.

  ~*~

  “Well, guys like him think they can buy their way out of anything, but even he couldn’t get out of this one. Not when he was the one to implicate himself so thoroughly.” They were sitting at Paul’s breakfast table two days later, Paul drinking his second cup of tea after a breakfast of blueberry pancakes and bacon, Anne with her coffee reading the Arts and Leisure section of the New York Times. Paul smoothed the Metro News Section flat against the table. The headline read Prominent Investor Confesses to Crime of Kidnapping and Sexual Torture.

  The article went on to describe in some detail the crimes perpetrated by Langley, not only against Anne but it turned out, three other women whom he had abducted and abused in a similar way, though he had gotten away with those crimes until now. Langley faces eight to twenty-five years for each count. He is currently being held, awaiting sentencing. This will be the last we see for some time to come of the millionaire man-about-town once described in Manhattan’s List of Who’s Who as one of our most eligible bachelors.

  Paul folded the paper over and stood. “I’d say it’s time for a well-deserved vacation. How about the Caribbean, my love? I know the perfect little island where I’ll have you all to myself.”

  Anne grinned up at him. “As long as we can get there by boat, count me in.”

  ~*~

  It looked more like a small but very well-appointed living room than the cabin of a jet. The private chartered jet was one of the most luxurious money could buy or in this case rent. Anne and Paul occupied two of the four luxury recliner soft leather seats, the other two being empty. The pilot and copilot were out of sight in the cockpit, its door closed to afford privacy to the travelers. The cabin was outfitted with a well-stocked bar, a pantry and refrigerator filled with snacks, water, cold soda, beer and trays of gourmet meals prepared by a five-star chef, ready to heat when the two passengers became hungry.

  Paul had taken Anne’s admission of her fear of flying seriously, but he knew once he got her aloft, she’d see how safe and easy it was, especially with a magical anti-anxiety spell. He generally avoided the crush and annoyance of commercial airports and had used this particular charter company a number of times, always well pleased with their service and expertise. Money was not a consideration for the warlock, who was actually richer than Robert Langley and Harold Donner put together, though he didn’t advertise this fact. Most witches and warlocks had acquired vast wealth over their long lives and Paul had found he had the knack of investing it wisely, with accounts and portfolios spread throughout the world.

  He smiled at Anne, who was staring out the round window of the jet as thrilled as a child at the tableau of miniature cities and farms spreading out below them. The spell he’d cast over her before they boarded had erased her fears. She seemed perfectly comfortable traveling at a cruising speed of almost five hundred miles per hour.

  Paul popped the cork of a bottle of cold Champagne. Anne held up her crystal flute as he filled it and then his own. “To us,” he said as they clinked glasses.

  After a while Anne sat back, pressing the lever to recline. She was wearing a blouse with small buttons along its front. The first several buttons were open and if Paul craned his head a bit, he could see down her blouse to the tops of her luscious breasts. Anne followed his gaze and laughed. “Sneaking a peek, are we?” she teased.

  “I don’t need to sneak, do I now?” he rejoined, grinning back. Reaching over he unbuttoned the next three buttons, exposing her dark pink satin bra.

  “Paul,” she said, twisting toward the closed cockpit door. “Someone could see.”

  “Don’t worry. They’re too busy flying the plane to come out and visit with the passengers. We have the whole cabin to ourselves for the next three hours. I know a lovely way to pass the time.”

  “I was thinking of a nap…”

  “Plenty of time to rest on the island. You can sleep all you like in the woven hammocks strung under the cabana right on the beach, a cool wind blowing to offset the hot sun, the sound of the waves lulling you sleep. But for now, I have something else in mind.” Lifting the armrest between their two seats, he reclined his as well, making a full-size bed for the two of them. Leaning up, he opened the rest of her blouse.
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  “Take it off,” he said quietly, “and the skirt as well.” It wasn’t a request but a command, albeit a gentle one. Flushing slightly, Anne obeyed. Paul could see her nipples poking against the soft satin. He could smell desire emanating from her like a perfume.

  Paul unbuttoned his own shirt and tossed it aside. Lifting his hips, he slid out of his trousers. He saw Anne’s eyes gliding over his strong, hard body and could see the lustful approval in her eyes. Paul grinned and teased, “Like what you see?”

  “Very much,” Anne responded, her eyes shining, her lips parting. The crew apparently forgotten, she flung herself over Paul, wrapping one leg over his belly and laying her head on his chest. He needed to feel her soft breasts, the sweet hardening nipples, against his skin. Reaching around her, he unclasped the bra and pulled it from her body. She lifted her face to his, her eyes closed, her mouth begging for his.

  Paul complied, crushing her to him as they kissed, his cock rigid, poking from his silk briefs. He felt her fingers stroking his member through the silk and he moaned against her mouth. As they kissed, Paul pulled his underwear down and kicked it away. Sliding his hands to Anne’s hips, he dragged the slip of fabric that covered her sex down her legs.

  Anne pulled away, whispering urgently, “They’ll see us. We’re naked!”

  “They won’t, sweetheart, I promise. We’re private clients. They wouldn’t come back here without signaling us via the intercom. It would be like walking into our hotel room uninvited. They won’t do it. This beauty,” he stroked his hand along her bare breast and down her belly, pressing his palm flat against her mons, “is only for my eyes.”

  Anne sighed sweetly, her eyes fluttering shut, her legs parting in invitation. Paul slipped his hand between her thighs. He smiled to himself as he felt how wet she was, her delicate labia swelling with desire. He slipped a finger into the wetness and drew it up along her lips, making her shudder.

  He loved watching her face as he teased her pussy, swirling in ever tightening circles toward the hard little nubbin of her clit. The desire, the passion, the yearning and finally, when he relented and touched her there, touched her as she needed to be touched, the fierce satisfaction in her expression. She became lost in his amorous attentions, completely unselfconscious in her rising lust.

  As his fingers played at her sex, his mouth sought those perfect breasts. He bit and teased her hard nipples, delighted with their texture and taste. As he suckled and stroked her, Anne began to whimper, gyrating against his hand. Deciding to prolong her pleasure, to drive her wild with anticipation, Paul abruptly withdrew his hand.

  Anne’s eyes opened. “Don’t stop,” she begged. “Please, don’t stop.”

  “All right,” he said slowly, his mouth curving into a cruel smile, his cock raging with desire. “But you mustn’t come. Not until I tell you. If you come a moment sooner, you’ll be in trouble. Promise?”

  “I don’t know if I can promise such a thing.”

  “I’ll help you, darling. I’ll control your orgasm.” He slipped his hand back to her hot, sweet pussy, rubbing and swirling until her eyelids closed and her body arched again toward his touch. After only a few moments she was again thrusting and moving against his hand, breathing rapidly.

  Again he pulled his hand away, watching her teeter on the edge of climax, pulled back in the nick of time. “Naughty girl,” he said playfully. “You have no self-control, did you know that?”

  Anne’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. “Paul, stop teasing me. I need it. Please! Let me come!” Once more he relented, rubbing her slick, smooth folds as he inhaled the delicious aroma of her arousal, ripe in the small cabin.

  “Oh, oh, oh,” she cried softly. He could feel her body tense with impending release. Climbing over her, he plunged his cock into her. “Now,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Come now.” Her vaginal muscles gripped him in a sheath of rapture. As he moved inside of her, his own pleasure rising to meet hers, Anne began to keen, a high-pitched cry of utter abandon.

  As orgasm gripped her, her muscles milked Paul’s cock, making him explode inside her as he held her tightly in his arms. Still she continued her high, sweet cry, her body racked with uncontrollable spasms. Finally she stilled, though he could still feel the steady thumping of her heart against his chest.

  The intercom clicked on, the captain’s voice low and muffled as he politely inquired, “Uh, excuse me, Mr. Windsor. Everything all right back there?”

  Paul reached up to depress the button to respond. “Just fine, Captain. Sorry if we disturbed you.”

  “Not at all, sir. Just checking.”

  Anne buried her head in Paul’s side. “Oh shit,” she whispered. “They heard us.”

  Paul smoothed her long curls and smiled. “So what? We’re in love. We’re allowed. I’m sure it’s nothing they haven’t heard a hundred times before.” Anne didn’t reply. “Then again, maybe not a hundred,” Paul grinned. He continued to stroke her head with one hand, his other arm cradling her against him. When his hand dropped as he fell into a deep sleep Anne didn’t notice as she was asleep as well, her lips curved in a smile.

  Chapter 15

  They lay naked side by side on thick, large beach towels. Anne had been uncomfortable at first with the idea of being nude out in the open until Paul had convinced her that the island was uninhabited. He owned the fifty-four acre stretch of paradise, most of it lush palm-lined beach. He rented it out through a management company most of the year but always kept several weeks free for himself.

  When he informed the caretakers he was coming, they made sure to stock the freezer and refrigerator with scrumptiously prepared meals and the freshest local fruits and vegetables. He kept a well-stocked wine cupboard—there being no cellars on the beach—as well as several cases of Champagne on hand. He knew he would find fresh white sheets on the bed in his favorite room in the large airy bungalow he had had built to his own design some fifty years before. Three of its walls were almost all glass, floor-to-ceiling windows that invited in the spectacular view of the pink-white beach and the crystal blue water meeting the deep blue sky.

  Anne had been enchanted with the small island, unable to believe how clear the water was and how warm, compared to the Atlantic shores she was used to visiting as a child. Brilliantly colored fish in swam round her knees as she waded past the small waves lapping the shore. Paul said they would go snorkeling if she wished.

  They had come from an invigorating swim together and now rested lazily on their towels, sipping fresh iced limeade spiked with coconut rum as the warm sun dried their bare bodies. Anne looked over at her lover, so handsome, his strong body glistening with the suntan oil she’d applied for him.

  “I wonder what it’d be like,” Anne said slowly, her finger dragging a line in the white wet sand, “to make love with a warlock while experiencing the full spectrum of his magic.” She smiled lazily, her eyes trained on the pattern she was making in the sand.

  “You would, would you? Our lovemaking isn’t magical enough for you?” Paul said in a teasing voice as he turned toward Anne. She flushed, unable to control her nipples, which rose to points under his gaze.

  “I didn’t mean that,” she hastened to answer but he laughed, leaning back again.

  “I know, sweetheart. I’m teasing you.” He stroked his chin as if in thought. “So, you’d like to experience the magic a warlock can offer. You realize you would be in my thrall? Completely in my power, under my spell.”

  Slowly Anne nodded, feeling a fire in her loins at the prospect. Since she’d been with Paul, her body had come alive for the first time. Her capacity for sensual pleasure seemed boundless. Paul had teasingly called her his greedy girl, but he’d made it clear he was delighted with her lust. She had come to crave the intensity of experience he offered, eager to try anything he suggested as long as his body, his mouth, his cock were involved.

  She barely recognized herself, so different from the practical busy woman she had once been, her head fi
rmly on her shoulders, her shoulder always to the grind. That Anne had had no time for romance and had speculated it was a trumped up game, wishful thinking on the part of weak people. She had liked sex, to a point—it scratched an itch. Greg had been the same—they were two peas in a pod, both satisfied with what she would now consider a starvation diet of sensual pleasure.

  “I want it,” she whispered. “Show me. Take me.”

  Later that afternoon, fortified with freshly caught grilled tuna and a cucumber salad, washed down with cold Champagne, Anne and Paul shared a leisurely shower before retiring to his huge white four-poster bed. The white curtains billowed at the open windows as the sea breeze gently cooled the room.

  “Are you ready, Anne? I’m going to enchant you now, to take you with magic, give you an experience few mortals are permitted. Are you sure you want this?”

  His eyes burned into hers. Her assent died on her lips as she stared back, feeling as if she could see his very soul hidden behind his onyx gaze. She nodded. They were both sitting on the edge of the bed. Gently Paul pushed her shoulders, pressing her to lie down. He lifted her legs so she was fully on the bed, her head on the pillows, her sun-kissed body golden against the snow-white sheets.

  In a soft, low voice he began to chant, nonsense words to her ear but not to her body. As he spoke he uncapped a small gold bottle, releasing a lemony scent spiced with something she didn’t recognize. Tipping the top of the bottle against his fingers, Paul smeared the oil lightly behind Anne’s ears, drawing his finger down over her throat and between her breasts. He dabbed more oil on his fingers and drew the line down her belly.

  Wherever the oil touched, Anne’s skin began to tingle and heat. It wasn’t painful at all but invigorating. Anne tried to touch the line of warmth he’d drawn but found she couldn’t move! She tried again, a touch of panic settling over her. “Paul, I can’t move.” She wanted to say these words, but even her mouth would not cooperate.

  Paul smiled gently, though his eyes glittered darkly. “It’s all right. Don’t worry. You will be able to move when I wish it. Your body belongs completely to me at this moment. Until I release you from the spell, you can only respond to me—you cannot initiate anything at all. You have lost the power of speech, the power of movement. If it pleases me you will be blind and deaf as well, all your senses surrendered to my magical whim.”