Witches' Waves

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by Teresa Noelle Roberts


  The sheets felt like something far more extraordinary than cotton—silk maybe, though she had no idea, except from descriptions in books, what that would feel like—and her own hair on her skin made her shudder with need.

  She decided that if she felt this sensual, she must look it too, whether or not she met all the usual requirements for beauty.

  Then Kyle crawled up next to her. She reached out to help him undress as he’d done for her—it would be a small challenge when she couldn’t see, but she figured Deck would help.

  Her hands fluttered onto sleek, bare skin. Kyle was already naked again. Had Deck yanked his pants off, maybe grabbing his ass or stroking his cock as he did, or had Kyle impatiently undressed himself? Either idea was delicious.

  Meaghan’s arousal had made the sheets feel silkier than they really were, but it was nothing compared to how Kyle’s skin felt. Smooth, supple…she thought the word was velvety, although she had no experience with the real thing, velvet not being in large supply in the hospital. And so hot, so wonderfully hot.

  Her hand rested on his abdomen, the hard muscles tense, quivering beneath her touch.

  She swept down over smooth hair until she reached his cock.

  Thick, hard, hidden in its sheath, but eager to come out. She clasped her hand around it, began to stroke as Deck had shown her. Kyle groaned, arched against her.

  Then he pulled away. “Not yet. Too much.” The words came out as a groan. “Want to hold out for you both.”

  Reluctantly, she moved away. “I didn’t think men could,” she said, wondering.

  “Could what?”

  “Wait. But that’s twice you have.”

  Kyle and Deck both cursed, but the curses sounded almost tender to her ears. Thunder rumbled outside. Deck mumbled, “Sorry about that.” Kyle chuckled and after a second, Meaghan echoed him. They were safe inside now.

  “Some men can’t be bothered to wait,” Deck commented, his voice harsher than she’d ever heard it, no humor in it. “Some men use their partners like they were tissues. And some men lie a lot to get what they want. Kyle and I aim to prove we’re better than that.”

  Before she could ask any more questions, four strong but gentle hands encouraged her to lie down on the big, rumpled bed.

  Kyle’s mouth closed over her right nipple, hot, teasing. Deck lay on her other side, his broad-shouldered body pressed against her, every inch of skin that touched her a benediction.

  Deck’s long hair spread over her skin, silky and feather soft—he’d used the drying spell on himself too, obviously—as he took her other nipple into his mouth. He and Kyle were doing the same thing, but it felt so different. Deck’s mouth was cooler than Kyle’s, and his hand, cupping her breast, was both bigger and rougher. Rougher in the sense of more calloused, rougher in the sense of firmer and surer. He nipped occasionally. Kyle touched her as if she might break, but his lean body was taut with energy, as if he was holding back from the full force of what he wanted to do to her. He felt sleek where she touched him, sleek and hot, even though he’d been in the frigid water in his otter form far longer than they’d been immersed, and she and Deck were still cool. His hot mouth and Deck’s merely warm one suckled and licked at her nipples, and the sensations broke in waves over her body. Both men stroked her skin as if she were some great cat.

  The hair on Deck’s chest was crisp under her fingers. He swore under his breath when she brushed over his nipples, and she made a mental note to go back and investigate that more. But right now she was exploring. Playing.

  Seeing her new lovers the only way she could, and enjoying it to the fullest. She couldn’t picture either of them—it had been too long since she’d been able to see and she couldn’t translate the information her fingertips collected into anything like a visual image—but she could learn a lot through touching them.

  She knew both men were strong, but Deck’s muscles seemed bigger, bulkier, while Kyle’s were more sleek. Even Deck’s abs were different from Kyle’s. She swore she could feel their delineation, and understood for the first time what authors meant when they talked about “six-pack abs.”

  Inch by inch, she explored that difference, one hand on Deck’s belly, the other on Kyle’s, until they both made beautiful, obscene noises.

  Only then did she try to move down to their cocks. Kyle still squirmed away. Deck sighed and let her stroke him. He felt big, more thick than long, and surprisingly silky for all his hardness.

  But though Kyle was playing hard to get, he was the first to reach between her legs, parting the damp curls there to find her clit. She opened her legs wider to allow him access.

  She shouldn’t. Maybe she should at least say something. But the part of her brain that would take care of that kind of thing was floating away on waves of pleasure and words seemed far way. Besides, she felt secure behind the shields Deck had helped her set earlier.

  As soon as Deck and Kyle had taken her in their arms, the shields had become thicker, yet at the same time more flexible—deep water that wouldn’t transmit anything she didn’t want.

  She was safe.

  And so she relaxed into Kyle’s touch.

  “You’re like the ocean,” Kyle whispered.

  “Cold and stormy?” That was Deck, but even as he spoke, he shifted his body. It meant that Meaghan lost her grip on his cock, but it was so worth it.

  Because Deck was kissing his way down her body, each touch of his lips setting off sparks. Kyle circled her clit with exquisite delicacy. Almost too delicate, almost a tease, but at the same time it felt so good she wouldn’t want him to change what he was doing. Even though she couldn’t see, instinct made her squeeze her eyes shut. As she did, the men’s auras reappeared, bright and vibrant, streaked with red. She couldn’t study her lovers’ faces and bodies, but she could see their energies, their spirits, which was something most sighted people couldn’t say.

  Deck’s mouth closed over her clit, taking the place of Kyle’s clever fingers. As she spread her legs wider, hoping for still more contact, Kyle slipped two fingers inside her.

  She gasped, arched up, pounded her fists into the mattress in pleasurable shock. She didn’t know where to put her hands after that, but she didn’t want to leave them fisted in the sheets when there was so much wonderful male flesh to explore, so she let her instincts lead her and she wound up with one on Deck’s head, one on Kyle’s. The contrast between Deck’s long hair and Kyle’s short-cropped pelt added more sensation to the ones already washing over her. Deck had one hand on her belly. She thought the other must be touching Kyle.

  A circle of touch. A circle of energy, energy that crackled through her until she saw the red of sex magic everywhere.

  She knew from books that men sometimes went down on women and it supposedly felt amazing. But the books hadn’t captured half of it—the vulnerability and the power, the contrast between soft, slick lips and tongue, and hard, probing fingers. Kyle worked in a third finger, and she was full, so wonderfully full. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced. It was as exhilarating as working magic, exhilarating as the ocean, exhilarating as freedom. Her blood felt carbonated again, her skin sparkly, and Deck and Kyle worked together in near-perfect rhythm, as if they’d choreographed the whole thing.

  Her inner muscles clenched around Kyle’s fingers, and he let out a soft, “Damn, girl!” She tried to stay quiet and not thrash around too much, but Deck’s tongue was so skilled, and once in a while he’d nip her mound or pubic lips, not painfully, just enough to add a new level of sensation. She couldn’t help yipping at that, and then moaning with pleasure as Deck laved the bitten spot with his tongue.

  “That’s right, Meaghan,” Deck crooned. “Let it out. Let us know how good it feels.” Then he returned his attention to her clit. Kyle didn’t break his rhythm, but he bit the inside of her thigh.

  The words and that lightly nipping ki
ss broke her control completely. She cried out, thrashed.

  She’d felt secure earlier, sure that no visions could find her here, but as orgasm approached, she panicked and tried to hold back, at least long enough to warn the guys what might happen. But she couldn’t speak, at least not to say anything that complex. When she tried, all that came out were more gasps and moans, the only recognizable words please and yes and more. Her brain might think she should play safe, but her body had its own ideas. And damn it if she didn’t think her body had a point.

  When she realized it was inevitable that she was going to come, she made a last frantic attempt to reinforce her shields. It wasn’t the elegant structure Deck had taught her to make, but she thought she’d managed to cobble another layer of protection, fighting the bubbles in her blood, the tickling, dancing sensation on her skin, the storm surge of ecstasy that stole her thoughts.

  Then it burst over her and she could do nothing except cry out and writhe and tremble. Deck and Kyle didn’t stop but pushed her higher and higher. She felt like the top of her head had opened up, but no vision poured in, no terrifying images of death and destruction, just warmth and more bubbles and sparks and what she knew, though she couldn’t see it, was light. As she exploded with a second, even more powerful convulsion, she gripped Deck’s hair in her fist without meaning to, dug her fingernails into Kyle’s shoulder. Her body was out of her own control, and it was like having a seizure in that aspect, but she was fully present, fully aware. There was no one in her head but her, no one in the room with her—or for all she cared, in the world—but Kyle and Deck.

  It took her awhile, at first, to make out what Kyle was asking her: “May we fuck you? Please…we’d like to be inside you.”

  She couldn’t manage to speak, but she nodded eagerly.

  Kyle and Deck chatted briefly, below even her keen hearing.

  Then Kyle moved up her body. She felt his energy, lithe and aquatic and somehow contained, before she felt his cock nudging the slick opening of her sex. Gliding over her clit. Teasing and tempting. She pushed her hips up, tried to angle herself so he’d enter her now. Teasing was fun, teasing was lovely, but she was ready. So ready. More ready than she’d ever imagined being. “Please,” she moaned.

  “Not yet,” Deck answered, surprising her. “I’m preparing Kyle. While he’s in you, I’m going to be in him. And later, we’ll switch. I want your pussy too.”

  Meaghan hadn’t thought she could get any hotter, but Deck’s words, and the thought of him lying over both of them—fucking both of them, in a sense—aroused her even more. It must have worked on Kyle too because he made a strangled sound and sank into her.

  “Impatient,” Deck chided, but he didn’t sound like he meant it.

  Kyle’s cock felt perfect inside her. No, it wasn’t just Kyle’s cock that felt perfect. Kyle’s energy, Kyle’s spirit made the difference. His energy rippled over her skin as his hands did, touched places inside her deeper than his cock could reach. He was moving carefully, as if he didn’t want to come too soon or he feared he might break her, but she could sense a great tension. She moved to meet his thrusts, hoping to encourage him to let go.

  Then Deck added his weight and heat to Kyle’s. Kyle growled deep in his throat and thrust harder into her. Deck’s magic embraced her. When the auric rainbow started to flash in her darkness, she didn’t fight it. She swore she felt it as Deck penetrated Kyle. Felt it as if he’d entered her, felt it as if she’d grown a cock and was entering someone’s hot, tight ass.

  Kyle’s thrusts became harder, wilder, in time with the way Deck was fucking him, fast and furious and just what she wanted at this time. He bit at her shoulders, neck and breasts, staying just on the right side of the line between pain and pleasure. The one time he got too rough and she yelped, Deck murmured, “Careful, otter,” and apparently tugged on Kyle’s hair because he eased up and raised his head.

  She could feel the two men kissing then, feel their tongues intertwining, feel the slight strain on Kyle because he was twisted around, and the way Deck took control of the kiss even though Kyle nipped at his tongue with sharp teeth.

  Then Kyle was kissing her. His teeth were sharper than they’d been before, as if the animalside wanted to get out but he was reining it in. And Deck was there too. Though his hands were on Kyle’s hips and he touched her only with his legs, his saltwater and earth and lightning energy filled her.

  Her magic swelled under their blissful assault, swelled so it filled her skin and then spilled over, a cool, damp ocean breeze teasing their heated skins. She didn’t know what to do with the energy, but she felt Deck’s magic, the red magic, reach out and seize some of it. “Ground,” he said, “Ground into us. I can make it work.” That seemed dangerous, but Deck touched one hand to her chest, over her heart, and suddenly she knew what to do.

  The red flares in their auras surged until red was everywhere. “Now,” Deck ordered, and she had no doubt it was an order. “Now. Come for me.” Kyle cried out, a strange chittering, keening noise that didn’t sound like it should come from his wordside body, and he surged into her. Her arousal peaked, carrying her higher until she was flying in their arms.

  Then she fell, but she was falling through warm, caressing magic, and the men fell with her, keeping her safe.

  When she came back to herself, still weightless yet full of magic and love, her skin tingling with shared energy, she started to cry.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kyle jumped to attention at the sound of Meaghan’s sobs. Had they hurt her? He’d been as careful as he could be, taking cues from Deck, trying not to pump her too hard or bite so he broke skin. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but words were far away, carried off by desire and kept away by panic. His otterside chittered, swimming in circles around a distressed raftmate, bumping up against her to keep her afloat—but what if his otterside had come out at the wrong time and that was why she was crying? He hadn’t done anything really stupid, Deck wouldn’t have let him, but who could say what might traumatize a woman with her history?

  Luckily, Deck, with his fully human brain, could manage to put words together, ask the vital question.

  Meaghan, now sitting up, beamed through her tears, her smile as brilliant as any Kyle had seen. Kyle let himself breathe again.

  And then she spoke and his breath caught in his throat again. “Just such a relief…such a relief. So beautiful. I came, and came with another person, and nothing bad happened. No visions. No seizures. Just coming.”

  Deck turned and looked at Kyle, a clear expression of “what the fuck?” on his face. Kyle was equally baffled until he remembered one of the more troubling things she’d said during their previous encounter. That it was “safe” to use her mouth. He made a frantic gesture at Deck that he hoped conveyed we’ll talk later. Kyle was freaked and Deck looked furious, his blue eyes stormy, his jaw clenched, his mouth in an angry line. Not a Donovan face, not politically correct or controlled, but Kyle could imagine one of Deck’s Thorssen ancestors with that kind of expression just before blowing invaders’ ships onto the rocks.

  Meaghan was happy, though. Meaghan apparently didn’t know how tragic and wrong the story behind what she’d just said seemed to them.

  So Kyle was determined not to ruin her pleasure in the moment. He wanted to pursue the matter, ask some questions, figure out what she might need to heal and who they might need to kill. But not right now, not when Meaghan was smiling like that. Otter duals didn’t normally have mates, not the way many duals did. They were cheerfully promiscuous and proud of it. Everyone regarded each female’s pups as nieces and nephews and pitched in to raise them.

  But Meaghan was his. He’d known almost from the start that she belonged to him, just as he belonged to Deck. And, damn it, that meant his to protect.

  Meaghan seemed to realize they were staring at her, trying to process what she’d said. “Don’t you get it?�
�� she exclaimed. “My shields held, even when we were fucking. I didn’t even feel anything trying to get through except your energy and Deck’s magic. Every other time I’ve had an orgasm, except last night, and that was because of magic, I had a seizure and then had a vision. But not this time. That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “That’s more than good. That’s great.” Deck kissed her forehead, then said, “But don’t you think you should have warned us that sex might be dangerous for you?”

  She shrugged, the movement eloquent. “Sex isn’t. Orgasm is. Used to be. But I wanted to touch you both so badly. I figured I could get you off, or at least be near you when you got each other off. Figured that would make us all happy. Then I hoped that with better shields and the protections on the building it wouldn’t matter as much.” Her voice dropped softer, so Kyle had to strain to hear, despite his keen otter ears. “Then I just didn’t care. It felt so good, and I’d come when you were licking me so I figured penetration would be all right too, and I just wanted to enjoy myself like a normal person…well, at least a normal witch.” She flushed as she said it. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?” Kyle moved closer. She sounded so scared as she apologized, like she expected to be punished.

  A flash from the otter: rending flesh.

  “Wanting too much?” she replied as a question. “Not warning you?”

  As if she figured she needed to apologize for something and was punting to come up with an answer.

  When Deck spoke, Kyle braced for earthquakes, tidal waves and lightning. The magic emanating from Deck felt more like ice, though, filling the room, filling his veins. His easygoing lover was holding back a killing rage. “Who did this to you, Meaghan? Who taught you to apologize for nothing?” His voice raised like storm winds. “Who thought it was all right to take his pleasure doing something that triggered your seizures?”

 

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