Szereto, Mellanie - Two Pirates to Treasure [Bewitching Desires 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Mellanie Szereto

  Slowly work your way down to the vaginal area, also known as the pussy or cunt. Stroke a finger through your wetness from the vagina (the opening to the front of the anus) to the clitoris (the bundle of nerves at the top of the region). Insert your finger in the vagina to coat it with your fluids, then spread the moisture over the clit. The clitoris will swell with stimulation, making it easier to find. If it becomes too sensitive to the touch, focus your attention on the nipples and/or vagina for a minute or two to ease the sensation. When you return to the clit, use slow strokes to gradually bring back the pleasure, increasing speed and pressure as necessary.

  She snaked one hand down past her waist while she continued tormenting her hard nipples with the other. Her finger glided through the slick juices, finding her clit on the first pass. She couldn’t hold in her moan at the incredible sense of rightness. With each fluttering caress over the swollen nub, she wanted to cry out with utter happiness.

  Your breathing will become shallow, your heart rate will increase, and a feeling of euphoria will signal your approaching orgasm. Give voice to your pleasure, letting the joy be known to yourself and your lover.

  Not needing the manual anymore, she watched her reflection as a wave of lightheadedness stole over her. Her pussy contracted, and she let out a cry of relief. Contentment and satisfaction washed through her veins as her heart pounded in her chest and her pulse echoed in her ears. Total relaxation sapped her legs of the strength to hold her, and she steadied herself against the chair.

  Why hadn’t she’d learned how to make herself feel like a true woman years ago?

  Chapter 2

  “Are you feeling okay, Orsolya?”

  Forcing her legs to stop wiggling under the dinner table, Orsolya nodded at her brother. If Sandor had any idea how okay she felt and why, he’d probably threaten to send her back to the castle. She glanced down at Jolán, then back to Sandor. “I’m anxious to go to my room. I have a new book to read.”

  He set his fork on his plate. “Oh? What kind of book?”

  What kind of book? She could hardly tell him it was a sex manual.

  Jolán spoke up before Orsolya could untangle her tongue. “I gave her an educational text we use in our homeschool curriculum. All of the women in the household have a copy.”

  A chorus of “ahhs” came from all the females within earshot of the pronouncement, including Sandor’s mother-in-law, Flora, and the matriarch of the family, Great Grandmother Romána.

  The older woman smiled. “I hope you find it useful, my new daughter. I consider the volume an essential part of a witch’s education.”

  Orsolya sat up taller in her seat. Being accepted into the Macska fold and learning about womanhood meant the world to her. But a witch? Time would prove to the matriarch that Horvát females had no such distinction. However, Orsolya had no intention of contradicting her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “If you’re finished eating, you may go study. Knowledge is food for the mind.”

  At Great Grandmother Romána’s verbal nudging, Orsolya nodded and pushed back her chair to rise. “I’ll see everyone tomorrow morning at breakfast.”

  She restrained her feet to a relaxed walk rather than the hurried sprint she would’ve preferred until she reached the main hall. Lifting her skirt out of the way, she took the stairs two at a time to the third floor. One delicious orgasm had whetted her appetite for more—perhaps with help from the sexual aides in the box she had yet to open. The rest of the first chapter awaited her as well.

  Entering her private suite, she marveled at the generosity of the Macska family, as she did every day. They’d given her a bedroom with a sitting area and an attached bathroom much like hers in the castle, but with a fresh coat of paint and new furnishings. No wind seeped in through cracks in uninsulated walls, and she could go barefoot on the rug-strewn hardwood floors without her toes freezing from the cold. If only their witching abilities were gifted to her as easily.

  She pulled back the flaps of the box on the bed, catching a glimpse of the contents. Each item came in its own package, labeled with the name, a picture, and a sentence or two ending in an exclamation point. If they gave her the pleasure she’d discovered with her hands, the punctuation was well deserved.

  She turned her attention to the book, flipping through the pages to find her place. An illustration sparked her interest, so she stopped to read the caption. Lie on your back with your knees pulled up to your chest. Insert your finger or a G-spot vibrator into the vagina and put pressure on the front wall. Press, rub, or vibrate the area to stimulate the G-spot. The gland becomes engorged during arousal, causing a pleasurable sensation. In some cases, the fluid is released and a more intense orgasm is experienced. Note: Beginners should use a vibrator with the smallest girth available to prevent pain and/or injury.

  Although she’d planned to continue reading and experimenting where she left off earlier that day, a different type of orgasm sounded too good to pass up. She studied the drawing—a cutaway view of a vagina with the location of the G-spot marked by a shaded oval. Did her box contain the right kind of vibrator for the job?

  She began removing packages one at a time in search of the perfect tool. The Ring of Fire. Clitoral stimulator. Experience the hottest orgasms with the Ring of Fire’s variable speeds and temperatures!!! While the picture and description piqued her interest, it wasn’t what she needed. She set the first sexual accessory on the bed. Maybe next time.

  Back Door Bullet. Anal plug. Double your pleasure with a shot in the dark! You’ll love sticking it where the sun don’t shine!!! Imagining the vibrator in her ass while the Ring of Fire massaged her clitoris made her pussy muscles contract. She placed the toy in her “to be tried” pile.

  Reaching into the box again, she pulled out another package. Fillet of Cock. Extra-large dildo. Enjoy the thickest, meatiest dick of them all. It’s guaranteed to fill you up! She started a new pile—“after a lot of practice.”

  She grasped her fourth option and flipped it over to read the label. Super-G. G-spot stimulator. The sleek, curved design will send you flying! Unique budding flower clitoral vibrator makes the Super-G even more fun! In less than a minute, she held the slim blue and silver device in her hand. A small, partly open rosebud shape jutted out from one side.

  Another glance at the illustration gave her a pretty good idea of how to position the Super-G for maximum pleasure. Returning her attention to the folded paper that had fallen out of the Super-G’s package, she read. Directions. Requires two AA batteries. She searched the box, finding an eight-count set of rechargeable batteries and a charger.

  “Darn!” She’d have to wait until the power source charged before she could enjoy that lesson.

  A loud knock made her jump. She hurried to the door, hoping Sandor hadn’t come to play overprotective older brother.

  As Orsolya opened the door, Jolán rushed inside with a huge smile on her face. “Guess what! I went outside to get my shoes—I forgot to bring them in earlier—and the chunk of sandstone had changed to a pile of coarse sand! You did it! You worked an incantation!”

  Orsolya’s heart skipped a beat. Was she finally learning the basics of spellcasting? “You’re joking. Aren’t you?”

  “No. Come downstairs and see for yourself.” Jolán grasped her hand and headed for the doorway.

  Anxious to view her handiwork, Orsolya followed her friend downstairs and through the tearoom to the patio. A small pile of sand rested where she’d left the rock. Tiny quartz grains winked at her when she stepped out of the beam shining across the courtyard from the security light. She knelt, taking a handful of sand and letting it sift through her fingers. Had she done this? Why had the charm turned the stone to dust hours later instead of when she’d recited the spell?

  Jolán sat on the bench and grinned. “Didn’t I tell you Great Grandmother is always right? Want to try it again?”

  “I don’t know. What if it doesn’t work?”

  Retrieving a larger piece of san
dstone from her pocket, Jolán set it on the ground at her feet. “You have to practice to become good at spellwork. Give it a try.”

  Orsolya pressed her lips together, trying to remember the words she’d used. All but one of her incantations had failed today, and dozens more hadn’t worked since she’d begun her lessons. “Turn this rock back into sand, as if it’s crushed by a giant hand.”

  They watched and waited for at least a full minute. Nothing happened. Any confidence she’d gained from her earlier success vanished.

  Jolán smiled. “Try again. I know you can do it.”

  “You didn’t actually see the charm work. Maybe someone else did it.” Orsolya plopped down on the bench next to her teacher.

  “One more time. Please? Relax and focus your energy on the words and the rock.”

  “Okay, one more time.” After a slow inhale and exhale, Orsolya picked up the stubborn piece of sandstone and cleared her mind of everything but the spell and her target. “Crumble, crumble to the ground. Grains of sand become unbound.”

  The weight in her hand dissipated as a stream of fine sand flowed through her fingers to land on her bare toes. Her breath caught in her throat.

  Jolán laughed as she jumped up. “You did it! Come on!” She tugged on Orsolya’s empty hand and began pulling her toward the patio doors. “We need to tell Great Grandmother. She’ll be so happy for you.”

  They skirted the grouping of furniture in the center of the tearoom, increasing their pace to a jog as they reached the hall. Low voices came from the main parlor as they approached, Romána’s distinctive tone carrying to Orsolya’s ears. Conversation stopped when she and her escort reached the partially closed panels of the pocket doors.

  Before they could announce their presence, the matriarch bade them to enter. “My daughters, you wish to speak to me. Sit. Magdolna and I will continue our discussion at another time.”

  Orsolya obeyed, choosing a seat on the couch across from Great Grandmother’s chair. Great Aunt Magdolna rose from the love seat, an aura of sadness following her as she nodded a greeting and left the room. According to Jolán, the gray-haired woman was Romána’s middle daughter—the only Macska witch to have been refused by her mate. She’d remained unmated even though, by right, she could’ve taken another.

  Since she and the other residents of the castle had come to live in the mansion, Orsolya hadn’t seen the older woman smile. She rarely joined the rest of the family for meals, seeming to avoid all but the most important gatherings. Whenever the Elders of the Order appeared, Magdolna vanished. Did she hate all men after having been refused by the man she loved and had borne a daughter with?

  The matriarch’s voice brought Orsolya’s attention back to the present. “You have news to tell me?”

  A nudge from Jolán had Orsolya sitting up straighter. “Yes, ma’am. I successfully performed a simple incantation this evening.”

  “You will become a powerful witch, Orsolya. It is your destiny, among many other things in your future.” Romána’s encouraging smile and all-knowing gaze sent a surge of confidence through her. “Learn and practice, daughter. You must quickly gain the knowledge you need in order to be prepared for what is to come.”

  Orsolya hesitated, waiting for Romána to continue, but she didn’t. Did the matriarch know what the Fates had in store for her? “I’ll do my best. This first spell took so long to master. I don’t know if I can learn the skills of witchcraft as fast as I need to.”

  “Your destiny requires more than proficiency in spells and charms. Become well-educated in all the areas in which Jolán has given you guidance.” The matriarch looked to Orsolya’s left. “Your direction has greatly helped our newest student, Jolán. Continue to tutor her as you have been.”

  Giving Orsolya’s hand a squeeze, Jolán nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Rest now, my daughters. Tomorrow is another day of learning.”

  With the matriarch’s obvious dismissal, Orsolya and Jolán rose. They each said a quick good-night before hurrying out of the parlor. At the top of the first flight of stairs, Orsolya hugged her friend then headed up another floor to her suite. As she closed the door behind her, she made a mental note to thank Rebeka for accepting Sandor and Konrad as her mates. Without that, Orsolya would still be living in a cold, dank castle, thinking she had no purpose and no skills beyond taking care of others’ needs. Now, she had a real future to look forward to.

  * * * *

  Staring into the painting, Orsolya watched a squirrel bound up a large oak tree and disappear into the foliage. The leaves rustled in a light breeze as shadows danced on the forest floor. Somehow, she’d managed to bring motion to the scene without accidentally sending anyone into the canvas like one of the Macska cousins had done last year. With a few rhyming lines, the picture stilled.

  Great Grandmother’s prediction of her abilities was coming true faster than Orsolya could’ve imagined. Every day had brought new accomplishments since the discovery of her sexual self. The manual had proved correct when it said a daily orgasm or two was good for the body and mind. Three is even better.

  Jolán grinned. “That’s my favorite charm, and you got it right on the first try. Let’s take a break for tea before we move on to transportation spells.”

  Orsolya fought the urge to jump up and down as she shouted in triumph. Instead, she moved to the settee and shared a pot of rose hip tea with her teacher.

  After her sudden success with the sand incantation, she’d been able to perform every assignment Jolán had given her over the past week with little effort or practice. They’d spent several hours a day studying everything from location spells to invisibility charms. She’d yet to fail at one of her teacher’s challenges.

  Poring over books was Orsolya’s new love—not only ancient tomes of witchcraft, but the sex manual as well. She’d learned more about her body in the last seven days than she knew from thirty years of being a female, and hours of experimenting with the box of sexual aides had convinced her that she didn’t want to live the rest of her life without a man. Although, how she’d meet one was a mystery.

  “Jolán, do you have a few minutes?” Rebeka’s voice from the library doorway yanked Orsolya from her ruminations. Her sister-in-law rubbed her palm over her distended belly.

  Jolán set her teacup on the tray as she stood. “Sure. What do you need?”

  “Would you go out to the greenhouse and get some herbs for me? I’d ask Kata, but she’s napping with the babies. They kept her, Adam, and Aaron up most of the night teething.”

  Retrieving a leather-bound volume from the desk, Jolán handed it to Orsolya. “Why don’t you read the section on transporting while I help Rebeka? We can discuss it after lunch and give it a try.”

  Orsolya nodded. “Okay. I’ll see if I can come up with an incantation. Ginger oil for success and moonstone for protection, right?”

  “Hm? Oh, yes, those will do.” Jolán strode to the doorway. “Do you have a list, Rebeka?”

  Their voices faded as they left the library, leaving Orsolya alone with her tea and the book. Opting for the quiet of her own room, she refilled her cup and went upstairs to do her homework.

  A glance at the clock on her nightstand told her she had about an hour and a half to read, gather the elements she needed, and write the spell. Certain she’d never remember all the kinds of transporting, she made notes on a paper so she’d have an easier time choosing which to try when she finished her research.

  With a few minutes left before lunch, a white candle with a white wick rested in a bowl of water scented with ginger oil on the coffee table. Orsolya crossed out the third line and then wrote in a new one. Done. If the incantation couldn’t allow her one last chance to see her mother in the past, nothing could. She set the moonstone on the paper as she read through the rhyme a final time.

  With magickal powers and spells to protect,

  Through time and through space I wish to connect.

  The treasure of family befor
e gone I’ll find,

  And in my heart hopeful, please help them to bind.

  With ginger oil, moonstone, and candle aflame,

  Harm to none, Blessed Goddess, as I stake out my claim.

  Flickering lights swirled in her vision, and she blinked to see more clearly. An invisible force pushed and pulled at her, making the paper flap to reveal the book she’d forgotten to return to the library that morning. Pirates and Priceless Treasures. The title blurred as the lights twirled faster, and the scent of ginger changed to an unfamiliar smell. Salty. Damp. Fishy? She shook her head, trying to regain her equilibrium, but the sun shining in her window had dimmed to the point of almost total darkness. Not yet!

  Pounding footsteps drummed closer and closer. A gruff male voice yelled words she couldn’t understand. The floor creaked near enough to assure her that he stood just a few feet from her.

  Where am I? Her heartbeat echoed so loudly in ears, Orsolya was sure whoever was coming would hear it. She held her breath, hoping the man would move past her, wherever she was. As she heard another creak, light flooded her hiding spot, blinding her.

  “What’ve we ’ere?”

  Chapter 3

  Lifting her arm to shade her eyes from the bright sun, Orsolya stumbled along after the stranger dragging her toward more loud, masculine voices. Her stomach somersaulted as she realized she’d inadvertently solved the mystery of where she would meet men. These didn’t sound like the sort interested in becoming her life-mate, and considering her captor’s stench and lack of manners, she likely wouldn’t want any of them, either.

  “Look ’ere, lads. I found meself some treasure!” His suggestive laugh sent a chill up her spine.

  The voices quieted, and she looked up to find more than a dozen oddly dressed men staring at her. Some wore knee-length trousers, brightly colored vests, and cord-trimmed coats. Others donned rags held up with rope tied around their waists. She avoided eye contact, concentrating on the endless stretch of blue behind them.