Hot Spell

by Shiloh Walker

  Like a caged beast, he paced the parquet floor, running agitated hands through his shoulder-length dense black mass of hair. Turning on his audience he shouted, “What has this council come to? Once, this body of rulers stood for something. Now all I see is a pathetic group of cowards. Is this all that remains of the mighty Council of Magick? Well, you need an infusion of new blood. You need me!”

  “Not yet, we don’t,” Lemuel snapped, face distorted with a mix of jealousy, envy and fear. “You don’t get to take control of this Council until you are mated.”

  “Meanwhile,” Grooden interrupted, smoothly bringing the conversation back on track, “you were telling us about Lady Maganistus—”

  “Not ‘Lady’ until she receives her wand, Chairperson Grooden.”

  “So noted, Councilman Westerner.”

  “As for what happened with Lady Maganistus…” Wylder’s emphasis on the title did not go unnoted by his listeners, “I supervised her graduation, which she passed with glowing expertise. I left her sleeping, recuperating from the rite. When I returned, I found she had escaped. “

  “Escaped? Why did she need to escape? She was a graduate, not a prisoner. What did she do…better yet, what did you do to her?”

  Wylder did not like having to answer Judith Westerner’s impertinent questions. Besides, the memory of what he had done made his cock, never totally quiescent since that long ago evening, swell to painful hardness. Cautiously considering how he would answer, Wylder chose his words with care, his rebellious thoughts running in counterpoint.

  “I chose to personally supervise the ceremony having judged her too new to her powers and undisciplined in their use, to risk her Opening with just anyone.”

  I didn’t want any Warlock’s cock in her but mine!

  “There was a danger that she might lose control of her new powers. Mine are such that I could control any wild magick that might get loose.”

  There was a danger she would forge an emotional tie with the male who acted as her Athame. Lord and Lady help me, but I would not allow that!

  “Knowing she feared my reputation, I wove a spell of deception and presented myself as her Athame. Once we joined, I knew her to be my future mate.”

  She feared me, feared my magick, thinking I wanted to take her over, control her. She knew I wanted more than the night and balked at making the permanent mating commitment I wanted from her.

  “When our melded magicks revealed my true face she panicked, lost control. So did I.”

  I had never been so connected, never seen someone as clearly as I saw her at that moment. I entered her so deeply, she felt me in her soul…and I felt her take over mine. The closeness, the passion changed us, formed us…we became two halves of a whole, our mating fated by the Lord and Lady…

  The terseness of his words faded as he paused to breathe, to gain control of his emotional agitation. He shuttered his dark eyes with a thick fringe of sooty lashes, his gaze flicking to the two empty throne-like chairs at the apex of the round table.

  His lips tightened as his hands fisted at his side. Jaw tightening, he swallowed thickly.

  Gods, how I hate being answerable to these weak excuses for leaders when, by rights, they should be answering to me!

  More than he hated admitting the mistakes he had made with Morven, Elias Ethan Winston Wylder hated needing the Council’s help.

  “I was not prepared when she called forth my power. We merged totally.”

  “Great Lord and Lady, no wonder that power wave was off the scale!”

  He swung his head around to eye the new speaker. The Vampire representative flashed both sets of fangs in a wide, suggestive grin.

  “Man, that must have been one hell of an explosive Opening ritual…”

  Wylder nodded silent agreement, the memories welling up in a flood…

  She whimpered, twisting her lithe, slender body sharply against him. For the first time in his life he wished himself possessed of a smaller cock. Her breath came through her open mouth in gasping little pants, her distress so acute she could not hold back her moans. He looked up at her face, contorted in pain. Dark gray eyes swam with tears, her deep auburn hair, darkened with sweat, lay plastered against her cheeks and neck, evidence of her weakening efforts to impale her pussy upon his steel hard erection.

  Glancing down to where their bodies interlocked, he winced at the angry red color of her dainty little cunt, once so elegant with its smooth, shaven mound. Her swollen and inflamed lips throbbed against him, stretched obscenely thin by the ridged crowned head of his cock. She had managed to wedge the massive mushroom-shaped head just past her tiny opening, but the combination of his thickness and her tightness repeatedly defeated her efforts to take more.

  He groaned. No sensation in the world felt better than the hot juices of her cunt bathing the head of his cock, the fist-tight clasp of her scalding pussy.

  At the same time, nothing had ever made him feel as bad as he felt, seeing her suffering. Passion gave way to compassion and he knew he could not continue. Hands gripping her hips, he began the move that would ease him out of her tortured flesh.

  “Do not go!” Her gasping cry rang harshly in the silent room.

  “You are in pain. This is too much for you. I cannot continue when you are hurting so…”

  “You must, Ethan. To withdraw now is to fail me. You are my Athame—my ritual knife—the blade I will use to open my body as a willing gift to the Eternal Couple.”

  She shifted beneath him and he moaned, burning ripples of ecstasy coursing through his cock as her tight sheath clamped down on the sensitive head. He closed his eyes, fighting the feral urge to slam into her, to ravage the virgin shield denying his full entrance.

  “Do it,” she hissed, grabbing his face between both palms and bringing his head up to meet her fierce stormy-gray gaze. “Come in me deeper…all the way…I do not give you leave to stop.”

  A shudder wracked her hard as he nodded, then angled his head to bathe her nipple with his tongue. “I obey, Lady. Only let me give you some pleasure to counter the pain…”

  Her nod released him from his voluntary submission. Using muscles honed in battle, he flipped her, reversing their positions, managing not to dislodge his cock in the process. Now on top, he bit down on her tips of her ripe berries, soothed the stings with swirling swipes of his tongue, worshiping the swollen bounty of her breasts until her back arched and she cried out…but not in pain. Rocking against her, circling, he felt a rush of her silky heat flow down to coat the constricted head of his cock. He slid deeper into the fertile, life-giving delta of her sex.

  “Yes, baby…” he crooned, shifting to forge another few inches inside her, his passage eased by his pre-cum and her own sweet slippery lubrication, “slow and easy…you can take me this way…”

  His breathing faltered as he pushed in that last inch and felt the vibrations down the length of his shaft as his cock thudded against the natural barrier of her innocence. A glance down showed he still had at least four more inches outside her body. Jaw firming in determination, he smoothed his hands down the outside of her thighs, encircled her ankles in the cages of his fingers and drew her legs up, forcing them wide. Rearing back, he pulled out, only halting when his broad cock head snagged at the gate of her small slit.

  “No! Do not stop, Ethan, I beg you…”

  Teeth sinking into his lower lip, muscles tightening in preparation, heart bleeding at the thought of the pain he could not avoid inflicting, Wylder looked into her eyes for an ageless moment.

  “Don’t you dare,” she snarled in warning, a wildcat fighting for her future, her power. “If you stop…”

  “I’m not going to stop. I’m never going to stop,” he promised her softly, holding her gaze as his fingers gripped her hips tightly, anchoring her against the coming shock.

  “Be opened to your power, Lady…and to your Lord!”

  Using his cock as a battering ram, he slammed into her, bursting through the thin but stron
g veil of flesh, closing his eyes as her screams assailed his ears, vowing she would scream just as loudly in pleasure before he finished…

  He never expected her to recover so quickly from the trauma of the difficult opening, yet she surprised him again, commanding he roll over so she could take the ascendancy. He obeyed.

  She rode him hard, flinging her hips at him, bouncing on his up-thrust cock with an enthusiasm he had never before encountered. Her silvery gray eyes glittered down at him, full of the joy of life. Her deep auburn hair flying about her animated face, her moist lips parted in a wide smile, she rose and fell on his hard shaft.

  “I love this!” She slid her hands down her body, skimming her concave belly to touch and circle her clit as she undulated on his stiff pole. Her slim fingers encircled his shaft, sliding up and down it as he pushed up into her, applying just the right pressure to keep him on the razor’s edge of coming. “You feel so thick and hot inside me…so wonderfully long and hard!”

  Swiveling her bottom, grinding his wide, flared head against her cervix, she compressed his tightening balls between their heaving bodies with each downward move. He could feel her thighs tremble as she bottomed out at each strong jounce, as though her control slipped its tether every time his thick cock completely filled her pussy, stretching it impossibly wide.

  He loved her enthusiasm, loved seeing her plump, pert breasts jiggle with every movement, setting the nipples dancing before his hungering gaze. He loved the feel of her hot, clasping channel burning the skin of his shaft, the slick constricting walls of her vagina gripping him so tightly. Lying beneath her, watching her glowing face as she uninhibitedly screamed her way through a series of grinding orgasms, he admitted his love for Morven Maganistus.

  “I am coming again!” She laughed aloud; her pleasure painted on her lively face with broad brush strokes of hot pink at cheeks and flushed neck.

  “Do not come yet, stay with me a while…”

  “No,” she giggled, leaning down to kiss his parted lips, dipping into his mouth to tangle her tongue with his, “you come with me…come in me. You have not yet given me the Lord’s Gift…”

  “I want to fuck you forever, want this to last…you will not need me after this nigh…” He groaned aloud at the sad realization.

  She slowed her carnal romp, easing into a series of smooth grinds and gentle undulations. “Perhaps, as you say, I will not need you…but I will want you…want this…again and again…and again…”

  “Do you swear…?” His hips arched strongly, sending his cock spearing into her with all the strength of his new-born hopes.

  “Yes. Now come in me,” she commanded, suddenly picking up the pace again. Pounding her pelvis against his, she sank fluidly up and down his slick rampant cock, their combined juices easing her way and sheening his flesh. “Give me everything within you…I want it all…every drop…every inch…all of you…!”

  Wylder shuddered, body convulsing under the lash of her voice. All unknowing, she spoke the ritual words of the joining rite and his soul answered, helpless to deny her call. His hips surged upward, driving his cock deep. Sinking into her, seeking the entrance of her womb with powerful strokes, he held her down with hands fisted on her hips, striving toward nirvana. Sweat beaded on his skin. His lips pulled back in a grimace of erotic pain as he shuttled between her thighs, his shaft squeezed and abraded by the contracting walls of her cunt.

  “You want me…take me!” He grunted, bucking hard against her. “Ughhhhh!” He slammed up, surging through her clasping pussy, slicing through her hot channel like a heated knife through butter. She melted around him, coating his cock and groin with her cream. “Here I am, baby…all yours…all for you…take it all…!”

  His eyes snapped open and locked with hers as his balls drew up tight, churning beneath his pistoning cock. Fingers of pleasure, spikes of electric fire, shot up the back of his legs, sparking along his thighs and back. His toes curled and he pushed up and up, feeling the tightening in his sacs that signaled the coming eruption of his sperm.

  More than seed churned along the length of his shaft, for she had commanded everything of him and he gladly obeyed. His power gathered in a mighty wave, rising and rushing along the pathways of his body, stripping him of will, of identity, of subterfuge.

  “Morven…! Yessss…! Mine…!” Muscles straining and heart pounding, mouth open in a primal cry of surrender and conquest, he spilled his power and sperm into her, marking her forever his.

  “By the Lady of Magick—” Her shocked exclamation brought his head up. Gray eyes wide with disbelief, she gazed down at his contorted face…his true face, revealed as he gave way under the most explosive orgasm of his life. Her body still convulsing in climax above him, he held her, watched as disbelief gave way to horror.

  “Professor Wylder…!”

  And then the climax was upon them, rolling them into a maelstrom of passion and magick. They writhed together in the sweetest agony as power flowed between them. Their bodies and souls locked together in ecstatic pain and then unraveled in erotic release, hurling them onto a distant star spangled shore.

  Her body collapsed upon his. Head tucked under his chin, she wept bitterly, body shuddering under the force of her tears. His heart shattered into pieces as the sound of her broken cries shredded his conscience. Each tiny part shriveled and died under the scalding heat of the tears falling upon his heaving chest…

  “Save your congratulations,” Wylder growled. His fingers shook as they wove through his hair, pushing a lock of his unruly black hair off his forehead. “The graduation ritual may have been successful—and I attest it was—but the mating rite did not have so happy an ending. Actually, we did not complete the exchange.”

  Vorodin raised an expressive eyebrow. “Now, that surprises me. I would never have taken you for the sort of chap to allow something that important to get out of hand.”

  Wylder’s eyes narrowed angrily at the vampire’s tongue-in-cheek comment, not caring for the bloodsucker’s penchant for finding humor at his expense. “The Opening ceremony proved too much for her, no doubt because channeling that much power for the first time drained her. I wanted her well rested before staking my claim, with no possibility of later claiming I used her tiredness as an advantage. I placed her under a timed sleep spell. When I returned, she had flown. She’s managed to elude me ever since.”

  Druscilla, never far from her vampire mate, reached for her husband’s hand, entwining her long-boned fingers with his. A frown puckered the skin at her brow. Her full, carmine lips thinned as her face twisted with worry. “But her graduation took place last year, one night before the All Hollows Celebrations. That means—”

  “I have to find and bind her before this year’s rites, or I lose her forever.” Narrowing his eyes in determination, Wylder pounded his left fist into his right palm. Through gritted teeth he ground out, “I will not lose her. I’ll move heaven and earth if I have to, but I will find her.”

  “It is possible you will fail in this quest, Wylder. You need to know there has been a new seeing. In this one you do not take the Master’s Seat.” The detached, emotionless words of K’Lndr, female of the Elven match, grated on Wylder’s already stretched nerves.

  Not for the first time, he damned the ancient laws forbidding an unmated Magicker to hold Council Office. He deserved a position on the Council by right of power, alone. Had he and his mate taken their seats during the past All Hollow’s festivities, they would already be ruling the council of Elders. Instead, he remained at the beck and call of a handful of people less powerful than he, suffering from limited vision and prone to petty squabbling.

  “Has it been confirmed? Who saw it? How strong was the seeing?” Lemuel Westerner’s head snapped up, his expression hopefully inquisitive.

  Wylder started for Lemuel, his heated glare obviously making the babbling Council member recall the danger of angering a powerful Mage, for he scrabbled over the arm of his chair, seeking a hiding place as Wylde
r bore down on him.

  Thunder crashed. Lightning streaked across the bowl of the ceiling. The lights flickered madly, their strobe effects chopping Wylder’s movements into discrete segments as he crossed the floor and grabbed the were-cat from his seat.

  Lemuel panicked. Unable to hold his human form, he changed shape, leaving Wylder shaking a full-grown panther by the scruff of the neck.

  With a scream of fear and rage, Judith transformed and rushed to her mate’s defense, launching at Wylder, claws extended. A negligent flick of his chin knocked her from the air, sending her spinning end-over-end toward one of the marble columns supporting the ceiling of the council chamber. Just before her head struck the massive pillar, Wylder regained control of his volatile temper and closed his fist in a move of power. Her sleek cat’s body came to an abrupt stop in mid air before slowly lowering to the ground.

  “Your interest in this new seeing is very telling, Westerner,” Wylder growled. Glaring into the great cat’s slitted eyes, he dug his long fingers into his jugular, cutting off his air. “I will not soon forget the sentiments you revealed here this night.”

  Lemuel responded by mewling, sheathing his paws and curling his tail up under his belly, instinctively choosing submission over death.

  A wave of disgust surged through Wylder. Feeling dirtied by contact with the cowardly were-panther, he stared at the pathetic creature dangling from his fist.

  He felt the magick swell within him, a blast of furnace hot energy smoldering in his chest. Fueled by anger, it rode him, urged him to shift form and sink fangs into this treacherous prey. Control naught but a distant thought, a dim inclination, he bent his head, jaws elongating as his power gave form to his thoughts and he began to morph into the panther’s natural enemy…