For the Love of Magic

by Natalie Gibson

“Do you like it when I fuck your face?”

  She gave a little moan of pleasure to indicate she did and realized she had been moaning this whole time.

  “That’s enough,” he said as he pulled out of her mouth. Her moaning turned into groans of disappointment. It was all so pornographic; she’d never been so horny in all her life.

  Aaron pulled her up to stand again. “Are you ready?” he asked.

  Embracing his shoulders and gripping his strong back muscles, she wrapped her leg around him to offer her pussy in all her readiness. Smiling, she let him test for himself. He slid a finder along her wet folds and released a soft grunt of arousal.

  She was ready, all right, slick with erotic excitement.

  He grabbed his cock and placed its head at her entrance. He started to kiss her again, but froze to stare into her eyes as he pushed into her tight channel. She rotated her hips to give him a better angle for his thrusting.

  Trapped between him and the wall, she had nowhere to go. The feeling was pleasurable beyond all reckoning. As he plunged deeper into her, she realized that just like with the dancing, the Daughters had taken away the joy of this act. Aaron gave it back.

  She kissed him with a renewed passion, her nails running through his cropped hair, wiry sideburns and silky curls of his chest. The friction of his rhythmic penetration was building a fire inside her. She would dedicate this first big orgasm to her magic so she could fulfill her duties and enjoy the rest of her night with Aaron. If he looked at her face during the spell, he would see what was happening and might try to stop it. She let her knee wobble, pretending her leg was tired.

  Without even a hesitation, he lifted her up and wrapped her other leg around him. He walked them into the living room and set her rump on the back of the couch.

  Perfect, she thought. She grabbed his shoulders and arched her back, flinging her head back so that he could only see her neck and chin. He took her breasts in his mouth, kissing the tantalizing lower curves. He nibbled her erect nipple, sucking it hard when she started making more appreciative sounds.

  White energy rose. For the first time since she and Aaron had started dating, she didn’t fight it. She let it build and felt secure in its familiarity. Within her mind she formed the light into two spheres. She’d not gone this long without working her magic since she had become a Primo, and didn’t want to risk messing it up. She had to do both major spells with the energy from one climax. With the size of the impending storm, she didn’t think it’d be a problem.

  Aaron wrapped his arms tightly around her cinched waist, keeping her in the arched position while he pushed into her harder and faster. Maeve heard him say her name. She tried not to think about how wonderful it sounded coming from him.

  The white energy was still rising and she was not sure that she could manipulate this intensity, even with her unparalleled control. There was no choice now; the spell must be cast. It was either her or some other matchmaker, she thought. So she concentrated on the first ball of energy, forming it into the tight dense little call spell, and then the more broad recognition spell. She thought the ritual words with each one, engraving them in light. They were ready for the moment, if she could only keep her mental faculty.

  Their orgasms washed over them both like a tsunami. Her contractions milked him as his life force spasmed into her womb. For a moment Maeve thought she was falling, but Aaron’s tight hug kept her grounded as the ripples of excitement passed.

  It was done. The spells were cast, but Maeve couldn’t think of anything except staying with Aaron. When she thought of morning and having to leave him, she felt a deep sadness unlike any she had ever experienced.

  As if reading her mind Aaron whispered, “We have all night.” But Maeve knew their time together was coming to an end.

  CAMILLA HAD worked with the Guardian, straight through the Mother’s Midwinter Blessing ceremony, removing the black energy from the Capacitors. They only stopped long enough for him to follow Maeve. Camilla had no sway with him on this matter. Maeve had to be protected and he was the one that would see to it.

  Now she rested, but she didn’t leave the storage room. She couldn’t bring herself to leave these women who gave their bodies to the cause so that others might pull from their collective power. They trusted her to keep them healthy and safe. Camilla’s healing talent allowed the Capacitors to live longer without succumbing to petrifaction from exposure to these levels of white energy.

  Since she became a Primo, she had barely spent a day out of this room. She felt that her special skill was evidence of her purpose here in the sisterhood. She had not lost even one Capacitor to the natural solidification process. She had caught three women in time to reverse the damage before they had to reside as statues in the sanctuary. There was nothing she could do for the ones already there; they were more stone than flesh. But she knew they were alive, in a way, and happy. She removed any aches or pains or sorrows.

  Nathalia, still bundled from the Solstice party, caught Camilla resting on her cot in the corner of the storage room. She tried to back out without waking the Panacea, but it was too late. Camilla jumped up. “I’m sorry to wake you.” Nathalia said. “You must be exhausted. I just came to see how it was going and to tell you that there’s a hot meal and some wassail, children’s brew of course, waiting for you up in the Primo room.”

  “Thank you Abbess.” She hugged her friend and leader. “Midwinter Mothers bless you.”

  They walked hand in hand over to examine Camilla’s progress in removing the tainted energy. It was nearly gone. Only a whiff of the darkness remained, but it was marbled throughout. Nathalia thanked her Panacea Primo for her tireless efforts.

  “But what’s happening here? Why are they so—” Nathalia searched for the proper term. “Active?”

  Camilla answered succinctly, “They’re overcharged.”

  Two Capacitors were attempting to draw the Abbess and Panacea into the circle. The two women normally would satisfy any request the Capacitors had, but not today. The blackness, however small it had shrunk, was still extremely dangerous. Nathalia said, “I’ve never really seen them this jazzed.”

  Nodding, Camilla said, “Power levels have been steadily rising for the last hour or so.”

  “Maybe it’s because of the ban on using tainted power, the energy has no where to go. I guess we just have a lot of couples making love tonight.”

  Camilla squeezed Nathalia’s hand. When Nathalia looked down, Camilla’s eyes twinkled. “I think it’s something more than that.”

  Maeve lay beside Aaron, her head resting on his arm, trying to recover from a rapid succession of orgasms. She had started loosing track of where one ended and the next began. Aaron threw a leg over her thighs, pinning them under the weight of his, as he idly played with her breasts with his free hand. Every few seconds, an aftershock rocked her. Though her eyes were closed, she could feel him looking at her face, waiting for the next one.

  She’d completely lost track of time. How long had they made love? Aaron had made tonight unlike anything she had ever experienced. He was everything she had ever wanted in a lover all wrapped in one very sexy package. He had been aggressive, tender, rough, gentle, attentive yet unafraid to exact his own enjoyment. She was completely exhausted and yet ached for more.

  “I told you so,” Aaron bragged.

  Maeve opened her eyes and lifted her eyebrow. “What did you tell me?”

  “My refractory period’s the only thing saving you tonight,” he joked. “If I could just go on and on like you, then we might kill each other with this.” He lowered his voice, suddenly looking like an insecure little boy. “Maeve, are you having a good time?”

  Turning her head to better look at his expression, she said, “I’ve been having what’s probably the best sex of my life for hours on end and you’re asking if I’m having a good time.” She reached up, took the hand resting on her chest, and drew it down. She pressed his fingers into her so he could feel. “I’m still reelin
g so hard from ten minutes ago that you can still feel the tremors.”

  That was a mistake. His confidence was back. His fingers parted her folds and traced her pearl, setting every nerve ablaze anew. The line between pleasure and pain had been blurred. This was unendurable and agonizingly sweet. She felt his arousal grow against her hip.

  “Aaron,” Maeve begged, “please don’t tell me you are ready to go again. I am too exhausted.”

  Smiling, Aaron stopped the stimulation and said, “See? I told you so.” He swung his leg off her and sat up on the side of the bed. He grabbed his boxers off the floor and slipped them on. He stood up and turned to admire her body, sex-riddled and fatigued on his bed. “I’m starved. We skipped dinner.” He plucked an oversized dress shirt from his closet and tossed it to her. “I have some stuff in the kitchen. I’ll whip us up a midnight snack.”

  He was gone before she could answer and she heard him washing his hands in the kitchen. She got up slowly in an attempt to keep from stimulating herself and put on the shirt over the corset he had graciously agreed not to remove. She needed her physical reminder tonight more than ever before.

  She went to his bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She needed to get her head back on straight. This night was going to end and she needed to be ready. Aaron should have felt the spell by now. As soon as he did, he’d realize she wasn’t the one and dismiss her. Everything would go back to normal for her.

  She followed his path through the dark living room and stopped there where the carpet met the tile, looking at him. A large gray cat wove in and out of his legs, begging for some attention, as he stood at the kitchen counter.

  He assured the cat that feeding time was near, but kept his hands on the snack he’d promised Maeve. Watching as he stood there in his underwear in his kitchen making sandwiches, she realized she loved him. She was unsure when it had happened. Her life would never go back to normal.

  Another large cat, this one solid black, looked up at her. She knelt down to pet him and he pushed his head into her hand. She scratched behind his ears and ran her hand along the length of his back and tail. “So what’s your cats’ names?”

  Without looking back, Aaron answered, “This one is Stirfry and there’s a black one named Homer, named after the author not the cartoon, but you’ll probably never see him. My mom used to make jokes that Homer wasn’t real, just a figment of my imagination, because she’d never seen him.”

  Homer gave a loud “mrrow” and Aaron spun around. “That’s crazy. He never comes out when there are strangers here. He really likes you.” Aaron crossed over, handed her a sandwich, and knelt down to pet Homer with his free hand. “I like her too, Homer. Keep this up and maybe we can convince her to stay.”

  Maeve stood up abruptly. This had gone on long enough. “The matchmaking is done.”

  Aaron snapped his head up. His nostrils flared as he glared at her. She had cast without his permission when he thought they were just enjoying each other. He drew in a slow steady breath and his facial muscles softened. Maeve knew he was pissed but trying to conceal it. Expecting a fight, longing for anything that would make leaving easier, she ploughed on. “The job’s finished and I am leaving.”

  Aaron sat down at the table. Kicking his bare foot out, he scooted the chair across from him out toward her. “Don’t go yet. At least stay long enough to eat your sandwich.” He took a big bite out of his, laid it down, and ran back into the kitchen. Returning with a glass of water and a can of Diet Coke, he said, “Come on, I know you’re thirsty at least.”

  She said weakly, “I really can’t stay.”

  “But baby, it's cold outside.”

  “I’ve got to get away,” she sang back. How quickly she forgot her predicament. A few choice words from Aaron were all it took. How dare he use her favorite winter song against her!

  He looked smug. After chewing another bite of sandwich he said, “You know at the end of that song, she stays…why don’t you skip over all the middle stuff and just decide to stick around.”

  “I need to go.” Before he started to feel it. Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat but the lump forming there was unmoving. “I don’t want to be here when you realize I’m not the right girl for you.” She’d seen it before but wasn’t sure she could take seeing it on his face. Crossing her arms, she attempted to hide her sorrow.

  Frowning, Aaron’s tone was a challenge. “This is ridiculous, Maeve. I want you to stay. I don’t feel any different about you.” She tried to argue again, but he interrupted her. “I want you, Maeve. I know we could be great together. We are great together.”

  She threw her arms out. “I’m off limits, Aaron. You knew that all along.” Her actions were combative but inside his words were having an effect. She wanted him too. Hearing Mick Jagger’s voice in her head telling her that people can’t always get what they want, she argued, “I’m good at one thing. Matchmaking. I know there’s a girl heading your way right now that’s better for you than I could ever be.” Her words poured out now, an attempt to keep from breaking down. “She’ll be perfect and wonderful and it won’t be long before you barely remember me.” Even talking about this other girl was making her feel ill. She knew this was how it worked; she just had to get Aaron to believe it.

  “I could give a rat’s ass about this mystery girl. Honestly, Maeve, I care a flying fuck about how wonderfully perfect she is.” He got up and stalked over to her. He put his arms around her and stared into her eyes. The gesture was tender but his arms were iron-hard, his grip tight, refusing to let her go. “You deserve love.”

  He bent his head to kiss her. She felt her resolve melting in that kiss. That was it. She could play hardball too. She shoved on his chest, pushing him away and wrenching herself from his arms.

  “Oh, and you think you’re the man to provide that love, huh? For your information, I have love in my life. The group provides for me just as I provide for them. You think to take me from them, but don’t pretend it’s for my own good.” She forced out a quavering laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t love me. You want me. That’s all this is, all it ever was. We’re done, Aaron.” Maeve gestured back and forth at the space between them. “The transaction is complete.”

  She knew the insult would sting. Painting him a mark made it sound as if he were just like everyone else. Not special to her. His reaction was not what she expected.

  He pleaded, “Please don’t go, Maeve. I want you to stay the night with me. I want to wake up next to you even if it is just once.”

  She could have taken anything from him but that. His declaration was sincere and struck a chord in her heart. Turning from him, she ripped his shirt off and dropped it on the ground behind her. Attempting to keep the sorrow from her voice she said, “Stop.” She grabbed up her catsuit.

  A slick, metallic “schwink” came from the kitchenette. Maeve knew the unmistakable sound of a butcher knife as it slid from the block. She froze as she felt its icy blade on her back.

  Aaron’s voice was rough and low. “You aren’t going anywhere until we have both had our fill of each other. And I most certainly am not done with you.”

  She barely breathed as he slipped the knife between the laces of her corset.

  “And, I’m pretty fucking sick of the physical reminder that your body belongs to someone else. Tonight it belongs to me.”

  A quick jerk of the knife sliced through those laces. The corset fell to the ground, and he had her completely defenseless.

  A new constriction replaced the old familiar one. She couldn’t catch her breath. The main part of her body that belonged to him was her heart. She thought she’d protected it, but nothing could protect it from Aaron.

  He took a step forward and then another, forcing her to do the same. Her face pressed against the wall and she could feel his erection against her bare backside. “Say it, Maeve. Tonight your body belongs to me.”

  She said it, but it was odd that her last coherent thought was that if he k
illed her tonight, then at least she wouldn’t have to face leaving him.

  “My body belongs to you.”

  THE NIGHT with Aaron had ended when her Guardian barged into the condo and swept her away. Now back on the Daughters’ compound, Maeve was too sick, too tired, to answer the knock at her door. She lay in her dawn-blue room on top of her covers in the fetal position, grateful that the sun hadn’t yet crested to add a headache to her nausea. When the knock came again she tried to stop crying but said nothing.

  Nathalia and Libby came in without permission. Deep down, she was glad they did. Hurting, she needed her sisters more than ever. They left the door open while they helped her to sit up on the edge of her bed.

  Maeve mumbled, “I feel sick.”

  Libby felt Maeve’s forehead, testing her temperature. “I think maybe you’re just feeling the effects of the blackness with the Capacitors more potently than we all did. I’m going to find Ingrid and see if she has any of her potions left.” Libby ran out before either other woman could protest. The Guardian who blocked the pain from Maeve was with Camilla, providing her the power to heal the Capacitors.

  “It’s not the Capacitors is it…9” Nathalia asked once they were alone, but it wasn’t said like a question.

  “I’m in love with Aaron.” Maeve paused. “The spells’re done. I’ve never fallen for a mark before. It feels terrible.” She laid her head in Nathalia’s lap.

  “I’m sorry, Maeve.” She brushed the hair off Maeve’s face and tucked it behind her ear. “I’m proud of you for going through with the matchmaking. You could’ve easily called him for yourself, but you didn’t. You did the right thing.” Nathalia paused. “No other matchmaker has ever done the spells for someone they were in love with. It looks like you have yet another jewel for your crown. If you can, take some satisfaction in that. It’ll help ease the pain.”

  The sat in silence until Libby rushed back into the room with a cup of tea and a small vial of bluish gel. She offered it to Maeve. “I really think it’ll help. We were all feeling so sick before.”