Cast a Lover's Spell

by Claire Thompson

  He bent down to kiss her and Anne found she could kiss him back. As his lips grazed hers, his fingers slid to her thighs, drawing a line of sweet fire over them with the magic oil. When he pulled away, she was unable to pull him back down to her, her arms pinned magically to the bed. On one level Anne wasn’t sure she liked this game. It was disconcerting, even frightening, to be so completely at someone else’s mercy, even someone she trusted so completely. But on a deeper, more primal and ultimately more honest level, she was on fire with lust, her forced submission a powerful aphrodisiac.

  Paul gazed intently at her. “While you are under my spell, I will enter your mind. I will enter your heart. You will hold nothing from me. Do you understand, my love?” Anne found she could nod. She was uneasy as she realized he would penetrate not only her body but her deepest secrets. Until now she believed he had kept his promise to “keep out of her head”.

  Be easy, his words slipped into her mind. I know your secrets already, dearest girl. I couldn’t love you more and I’ll never love you less. Trust me, trust me with your total self. I will keep you safe.”

  Anne smiled, finally truly letting go. She watched as he daubed a bit of the hot oil over the folds of her pussy. The tingle ignited her desire, filling her with a powerful lust. She knew she was wet and ready, though he’d barely touched her. Had she been free to move, she would have jumped up and wrestled her lover to the bed, straddling him and plunging herself onto his lovely shaft.

  But she couldn’t move. As Paul gently pressed her thighs apart, she could not stop him, her muscles inert, her will vanquished. He lifted her hips and slid a plump pillow beneath her ass. Kneeling between her thighs, Paul breathed deeply, inhaling her womanly musk. Normally she would have closed her legs at that point, vaguely embarrassed. Being magically restrained, she had no choice but to endure his attentions.

  She forgot her embarrassment as his tongue snaked out to lash at her spread pussy, licking along the folds, seeking the sweet hot spot at its center. Her voice seemed to have returned as her moans were audible to her own ears. Though his tongue had always sent shudders of instant pleasure coursing through her loins, this magical kiss was more intense, as if pleasure had transmuted into something more powerful, more potent, than mere sensation. Almost at once she was gasping, her heart pounding, unable to catch her breath as his tongue sent searing waves of ecstasy rippling through her body.

  The waves caught her, lifting her out of herself as she careened toward a mind-numbing orgasm. It literally lifted her from the bed as she arched in screaming release, every nerve ending on fire with sensual abandon. When she finally flopped back down, her body was soaked with sweat, her hair a tangle of curls over her face, every muscle spent as if she’d swam across the ocean just beyond those windows.

  Dimly she heard Paul’s voice and struggled to focus on the words. “That was just the beginning, my love.”

  Anne lay inert, incapable of responding, though if she could have, she would have begged for a respite while she recovered herself. Instead she felt his strong hands lifting her, flipping her over and positioning her on her hands and knees. She tried to fall forward but found she was held in place, a force field of magic keeping her in position. He employed the gold bottle, drawing the oil over her swollen sex. At once she was on fire again, unable to control the wanton waggle of her ass, her silent invitation to receive Paul’s perfect cock.

  Crouching behind her he obliged, pressing into her impossibly wet pussy, making her grunt with satisfaction as she pushed back against him, eager to take him fully. Grabbing her hips, Paul began to move inside of her, a circular motion that made her jump as he touched a particular spot, each time sending a jolt of searing sensation exalting through her body.

  As he moved, Paul whispered more strange words, weaving a spell so potent the very air around them seemed to shimmer with its power. Their bodies seemed literally melded together—muscle, tissue, membrane, blood, flesh—fusing in a passionate embrace. As the magic rippled through them, Anne found she could actually experience what Paul was feeling—not just a sense of his pleasure but his actual perceptions. The spell he’d weaved connected them so thoroughly she could feel the velvet clench of her vaginal walls against his cock as if it were her own. She could feel the delicious pressure in his balls as the blood pounded through his loins.

  The magic literally let her become him while still maintaining her own sense of self. She was swept up into the moment, unable to comprehend what was happening with her conscious mind. Somehow the warlock and the mortal had become one person, a connected soul, bound by magic, each experiencing the other’s ecstasy, passion the flame that held them spellbound.

  Anne became lost in the sensation. She was no longer a woman with her own thoughts and desires. She had become an extension of her lover and he the extension of her. As they rode waves of orgasmic release, Anne’s body trembled and shuddered. She no longer knew if the feelings she was experiencing were hers or his. It no longer mattered. They had become one.

  As Paul took his mortal lover past pleasure into a realm of pure concentrated ecstasy, her mind ceased to function, her consciousness nearly obliterated. It was a potentially dangerous place to be. With a lesser-skilled warlock, she could lose herself completely, unable to regain her sensibility even after being released from the magic spell. But Paul was skilled as well as loving. Anne was safe in his arms, free to abandon herself to the magical lust he pulled from her.

  Slowly he eased his magical hold, aware his lover was nearly spent. As the spell dissipated, Anne slowly came to herself, as if waking from a powerful dream. Paul was still inside her, but she no longer felt his every move as if it belonged to her. She was Anne again, recalled to herself, but still in the grip of passion. Paul held her lightly by the hips, leaning forward to kiss her neck. She felt his fingers on her pussy, sending a jolt of delicious fire through her. Paul’s movements quickened, his panting, shallow breaths matching his more intense thrusts. His fingers danced over her labia, teasing her clit even as he tensed and jerked suddenly hard against her, causing her to fall forward, the magic force field released as Paul lost himself in his own impending climax.

  As they fell to the bed, his fingers remained buried at her sex, a swirl of pleasure drawing one last orgasm from his exhausted lover. Her cries mingled with his moans as together they rocked and shuddered toward sexual oblivion. They lay where they fell, their bodies slick with sweat, their arms and legs entangled amidst the twist of sheets.

  Anne found she could move freely now, the spell released. Pulling herself up, she looked down on Paul, who lay still, his eyes closed, his black hair falling over his face. She wanted to understand what had happened, to process the amazing magical experience. Gently she smoothed Paul’s hair from his eyes and bent to kiss each eyelid. She had to know if he had had the same experience of literally feeling what she felt, along with his own pleasure. She hadn’t been prepared for the magic, thinking the spell would only heighten her experience, rather than alter it to such a degree.

  She opened her mouth to try to express what she didn’t have words for. But before she could speak, fatigue fell over her like a blanket. Her head barely hit the pillow before a deep, sweet sleep claimed her.

  “Hey there. I was afraid you weren’t ever going to wake up.” Anne squinted through one eye at the sound of Paul’s voice. The room was awash in pink and golden sunlight, the sun just peeking over the horizon.

  “What time is it?” she asked sleepily. She stretched languorously, feeling her muscles loosen and lengthen.

  “It’s about five o’clock.”

  “Too early for dinner.” Anne opened her eyes all the way and sat up, pulling her hair back in a ponytail with her hands before letting it spring back over her shoulders in a cascade of brown ringlets.

  “It’s dawn, you silly girl. You slept right through dinner, right through the night. That magic really wore you out.” He laughed, his expression tender as he sat next to her. He was d
ressed in denim cut-off shorts and nothing else. He looked good enough to eat. Even after the wild day before, her pussy warmed as she drank in his masculine beauty, her nipples perking pinkly toward him.

  “You’ve only got one thing on your mind,” he laughed.

  “Hey, no peeking in my head. You promised.”

  “I don’t have to use telepathy,” Paul laughed, gently tweaking her erect nipple. She threw a pillow at him but couldn’t deny it.

  “I’ve made you breakfast, sweetheart. French toast and ham along with some nice strong coffee. We’ve got cream and a bowl of fresh strawberries.” At the mention of all that delicious food, Anne realized she was famished.

  She followed Paul into the kitchen where he poured her a steaming mug of coffee, adding the cream for her from a clay pitcher. She looked around the kitchen but the table was bare.

  “Outside,” Paul said. “Ready and waiting for you, if the seagulls haven’t gotten it.” She followed him to the deck behind the house. Under the shade of a cluster of palm trees they ate their meal. Anne surprised herself, eating three pieces of French toast, four slices of ham and nearly the whole bowl of berries.

  The sharp angles of her once too-thin face had softened. Her hipbones no longer jutted from her frame but were more femininely rounded, though she remained slender and probably always would. Love was good for her appetite. She realized she was deeply and truly happy today, whatever tomorrow might bring.

  She saw Paul was gazing at her with those dark hypnotic eyes. The naked love on his face was so raw, so exposed, she almost had to look away. No one had ever loved her as he did. No one had cherished her for her spirit or esteemed her for her essence as he did. She knew while Paul admired her beauty, he of all people understood how fleeting physical charms could be.

  By the same token, for the first time in her life Anne felt a love for another person so complete she didn’t require his love in return. She had absorbed at last the lesson of mortality. Each day and the experience it held was a gift. And Paul was the brightest, most wonderful gift of all.

  ~*~

  They’d spent two glorious weeks on their own secret bit of paradise. A boat came daily to replenish their stocks. While they swam or walked along the shore, several housekeepers moved quickly through the house, changing the sheets, sweeping the sand away, mopping and dusting all the surfaces.

  Though they hadn’t any special timetable, both of them realized it was time to return to New York. Anne wanted to continue work on her portraits and Paul had business to attend to.

  He knew they would cherish this time, storing it in their hearts, another gem on a string of memories that would shine like jewels someday in the future. For despite it all, despite their love, Anne was after all a mortal. He could extend her life by perhaps fifty or sixty extra years with his magic and with her permission he planned to do so. He could give her a youthful guise for as long as she wanted or allow himself to age along with her.

  Yet in the end, she would certainly die well before his magical constitution gave out. Ironically it was Anne, his young lover, who gave him comfort, aware he sometimes brooded over the future, a future that could not include her.

  “We have today. We have now,” she said gravely as she’d watched him gaze pensively out over the ocean as they lay cocooned together in a brightly colored woven hammock on the veranda. “In the end, Paul, that’s all there is. Cherish the moment, seize it, take it inside of you. In that way, you’ll never lose me. I’ll always be in your heart, as you’ll always be in mine.”

  He smiled, his heart swelling with love as he took her in his arms. He hadn’t meant to make love to her but her supple body called to him. Her long, slender neck was offered for his kiss. Her round, luscious breasts were bare beneath her dress. He tore the flimsy fabric from her body in a moment of passion, his cock rising hard against his shorts.

  Anne’s hands were at the shorts, pulling open the metal button at the top, sliding the zipper down. Paul helped her, pushing the denim down his legs, tossing it over the side of the hammock as they swayed to and fro. He pulled her warm body to his, kissing her breasts, sucking her nipples, his balls tightening with pleasure as she stroked his cock.

  Too eager even to remove her panties, Anne guided Paul’s cock past the yellow silk of her underwear, beneath which her pussy was wet and ready for him. She guided him to her entrance and he pressed, unable to go slow, suddenly desperate to be inside of her.

  Anne moaned, a deep guttural moan of animal lust as he penetrated her. He felt her strong legs wrap around his back, pulling him even farther into her velvet tunnel. Together they undulated as the hammock rocked and swayed to their movements.

  “I love you, oh I love you so,” Anne whispered against his neck as he held her fast, pleasure rising through him like a tide.

  He kissed her face, her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks, the top of her head, tears springing to his eyes even as his body thrust and danced inside of her. There was no warlock magic at work here. Just two lovers, their bodies expressing the love in their hearts. Paul felt complete for the first time in his long life. Love had made him whole at last. Together, with only the magic true love can weave, they had cast a lover’s spell.

  Also Available at Romance Unbound Publishing

  (http://romanceunbound.com)

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