“Are you going to put that thing in me?” she said, making puppy eyes at my dick.
Where was my technique tonight?
I wanted her was the problem.
I mean, really wanted her.
If I let her touch me, I’d lose it.
I felt the fireworks inside. My self-control took a hike, my brains went south, I couldn’t wait, or take care of her needs, or any of that codependent beta male shit.
I just wanted to ravish her.
Because she, with the mojo rubbing off me onto her, she was ravishing me.
Whammy her, said the survivor part of me. Give her what you want, I mean, what she wants, I thought as my brain clouded over with lust, and whammy the heck out of her and send her on her way.
My dick leaped like a wild thing at the thought, even as my heart sank.
“Come here,” I said, and if she noticed I sounded resigned, she didn’t seem upset.
She floated off the bed again—damn, I was rubbing off big time—and she settled down over my dick like a butterfly landing on a flower.
I put my arms around her.
I wanted to be inside her now. I wanted it and wanted it.
She slid down over me and my eyes closed by themselves. Home.
Colored sparks exploded in my head. I went dizzy with hunger.
I buried my face in her neck so she wouldn’t see the weak-ass man tears coming.
We sank onto the bed. I moved inside her as slowly as I could, which wasn’t very slowly, and she made little mewing sounds that had me weeping with gratitude. When I came, I shuddered for a full thirty seconds inside her. Chloe, I thought, I promise you won’t suffer for this. Whatever it costs me.
Chapter Ten
WE BANGED HARD, we screwed slow, it was every which way, and I didn’t care, I just wanted more. When I finally jizzed it felt like I’d turned myself inside out and my inside was her and my outside was me, and I was a sandwich of her-me-her-me. I could see myself with her from outside my body. Green fire crackled over our skins.
Crazy stuff.
After a while things slowed down.
I could feel her heart hammering hard enough to jump out of her chest. Beautiful chest. I brushed it lightly with my fingers. She grabbed my hand and pressed it to stop me.
“Please. Let me catch my breath.” Her face was sweaty and full of light. “I’m only human.”
I did a double take, then a second double take. “You’re right. I keep forgetting.” But I was thinking, No, you’re not. Not any more. And that’s my fault.
I leaned over her and kissed her eyes closed. She gave a happy little sigh and conked right out.
I gave myself up to a long, worrisome think.
One, I realized I had spent way too much time with her already. Given her way too many orgasms. She had mojo of her own now, and she was capable of using it to bring me to her whenever she had a yen. This was not only dangerous, in terms of setting another magical sex power loose on the world, it was bloody inconvenient, because now she would be able to summon me whenever she wanted me. That was why I’d always been so careful not to let this happen before.
After the last time.
Forty years of living smart, and look at me! It was as if I’d totally forgotten last time.
God knew what was going through her head. If I told her what was happening to her, would it make any difference? Last time this happened, the woman stomped out on me and became, like, practically a nun, and left me with a box of matches and a lot of guilt.
I couldn’t stand the thought of Chloe going through that.
You know, Archimedes, there are so many aspects of this situation that you can’t stand, you’re gonna be back to the matches before you know it.
This thought did not comfort me.
I’d never been big on self-control. That’s kind of what got me into this job in the first place. Now…I realized I’d spent my whole life, with a few notable lapses, holding myself away from women, controlling myself. But not in a good way.
I thought of my old man, gone so long he was just a string of rehearsed memories now, telling me over and over that without self-control I’d never have a home or family or a business like his. I’d never be a success.
That was kind of why I’d agreed to my tutor’s suggestion in the first place. I kept drinking and wenching and loafing, and he made me famous. Famous all over the civilized world. I even got to send money home to my parents after a while. That had felt good.
But I never went back.
Screw the past. I was here with Chloe, which was a million times better than anything I could imagine.
At the same time, it was a total disaster. I’d spent hundreds of years crafting the one-night stand just to prevent this from happening—what was happening here tonight.
With Chloe. Beautiful Chloe.
I turned on my side. She was a long, impossibly long, body under the sheet. I couldn’t remember dating a woman this tall before. Was that why I hadn’t grabbed her these past two years? She was so easy to fuck. God knows I’d seen many guys walk out of Cheaters with her. And watched her roll back in two or five or ten days later, looking sniffly.
I just hadn’t wanted to line myself up next to them in her mind.
And I didn’t want to do my whammy on her and make her clean up her love life, get a nice man, and forget she’d ever met Archimedes.
I’d held back. Out of selfishness. I had wanted to keep Chloe in my life, and if the only way to do it was not to fuck her, okay, I refrained from fucking her.
Managed that for two whole years.
So much for self-control.
I gave myself a hard inner shake.
Think about this from her point of view. What just happened?
That should be easy. I knew the inside of her head like I knew the inside of a martini glass.
One, she’d finally got her old buddy Archie into bed. Normally that signals the beginning of the end for her, as well as for me. She knew darned well that I would now find a way to get rid of her, because every guy did. Only this time she would never even remember tonight, because of Archie’s famous whammy.
Back to Chloe. Put yourself in her shoes.
She knew I’d find a way to get rid of her. But she’d risked that. Did that mean she was willing to let it go? Walk away satisfied?
Fat chance.
Stay in her shoes, Archie.
Chloe always threw her heart into that first night. Her pattern was, You’re cute, let’s have sex, I think I love you, let’s get married. She was naming the babies by the second date. Which was no doubt why there was never a third date.
Brrrr. I didn’t know what I hated more, the idea of Chloe going domestic on me, or the thought of never seeing her again.
The more I looked at it, the more I realized that the only way Chloe could walk out of this with a whole heart was if I cut her loose.
She wouldn’t need a love charm if I did my usual whammy on her.
But would the whammy work? Eleven orgasms before we ever took our clothes off. Eleven! What was I thinking? I hadn’t counted tonight’s score. If she was a counter, she would know.
I could wake her up and ask her.
The longer I thought about it, the more I wanted to wake her up and ask her. Or just wake her up. If it turned out I could never touch her again…
I shied away from that thought.
Think of Chloe’s feelings.
Chloe’s heart would break if she remembered one fabulous night and then the cold shoulder.
That’s why the whammy. Right, right.
In fact, Chloe’s love life was measured out in one-night stands, the same as mine. I laughed silently, thinking of how much we had in common there.
The difference was, she hoped. Hence her oft-broken heart.
Maybe she wouldn’t break her heart, as such. I knew damned well mine broke harder than hers. This was why they kept me away from matches at the Lair. I’d seen hers break so many t
imes this past two years, I’d lost count.
In fact, I thought cynically, she was liable to survive this better than I was.
In which case, I reasoned, pretending hard that this was making sense, it couldn’t hurt to make this a night to remember for both of us. Since I was the only one who would remember it. Whatever happened next…as long as it was all on the same night…well, it all belonged to that one glorious night, the one where she’d had hope.
Which was the difference between us, I thought bleakly, stopping in mid-reach. Twenty-three hundred years had pretty much beaten the hope out of me.
That hurt.
I surrendered.
I reached for her shoulder. She turned over, mumbling, and began to wake in my arms.
Archie woke me with the sweetest kisses.
Before I’d wakened fully, he found his way inside my body. He barely moved—just a tiny bit of friction, so much self-control I’d never seen in a man before. And the kisses. So slow and sweet and gentle. I felt he was talking to me with kisses. I could hear his voice in my head. He said my name over and over and over until I couldn’t remember what the syllables meant any more. His kisses began to feel sad. I felt something swelling inside me, my heart, my pussy, everything, getting hot and hard, a lump in my throat. Hot tears prickled my eyes. The next man I meet, I thought, will be him. The one. He’ll be good and honest and decent and kind…
Archie’s kiss went deeper for a moment and I lost track of my thoughts. He swelled inside of me. I felt a slow, sweet, small orgasm break through, like the first golden finger of sunrise. I’ll forget you, Archie, but I’ll give my love to the right man next time…
What the fuck was I thinking?
In a rush of wakefulness and shock, I realized that the voice in my head was not my own. I surged in his arms, thinking to push him away, but he was so hard inside me, so thick and hot, that my treacherous body wouldn’t let go, my hands wouldn’t uncurl off the tiny sweet hairs at the back of his neck.
But I thought, He’s doing it to me now. Right now. This is the posthypnotic suggestion magic-whammy thingy! He’s trying to get rid of me.
It didn’t seem possible. I’d had guys dump me before, but they usually bothered to pull their dick out first.
And then a huge, comforting realization wrapped around me.
It wasn’t working.
I would never forget him.
I could spend tomorrow thinking this over.
Right now, Archie was making love to me, so slowly and sweetly it cracked me open. I stopped listening to those lying, treacherous words whispering through my head. Instead I listened to the blood pulse through my body, listened to his arms tightening around me, his hands clinging for dear life to my back, my bottom, my breast.
All the time, he was whispering in my head, Forget me, love the next guy, it’ll be wonderful.
But his body said something else. Don’t let go.
I pulled his head down and shoved my nipple into his mouth. The noise in my head stopped.
Let me feed you, beloved, I thought. You poor hungry schmoe. You’ll never be hungry again.
“Show me something sex-demony,” she whispered to me.
Temptation overwhelmed me. After all, we’d never do this again, right? This was it. Give her a night to almost remember.
I looked into her trusting brown eyes and thought.
I had tricks I hadn’t used in ages.
“Okay,” I said, “but for this you have to shut your eyes.”
“Why? I want to see you.”
“You can see me, or you can have sex demon tricks.” I said firmly. “Some things are for feeling.”
“I don’t get it,” she said, but she shut her eyes, her brow furrowing.
I said, “Because some of the best parts of sex are gross, but they feel too good not to do ’em.”
The frown smoothed out. “I’ll buy that.” She giggled then, and I knew her imagination was doing its job.
That would be a big part of this sex magic, lighting up her imagination.
“I want you to imagine,” I said, drawing the coverlet off her feet so that she lay naked beside me, “that you are very small. Only about a foot high.”
“Oookay.”
“I am holding your naked body in my hands, which feel huge all over you. I can wrap my fingers all the way around your torso. Can you feel me doing that?”
“Wow. Yeah, I think I can. How are you doing that?”
“Never mind,” I said.
I had one hand at the base of her skull and the other hand on the base of her tailbone. She’d feel everything I told her to feel so long as my phantom probes were plugged into her there.
“I’m stroking you all over with my fingers. I’m stroking down from your face to your chest to your waist to your belly to your hips. I’m stroking your legs. Such long legs, even when you’re only a foot high.”
She wriggled slowly. I knew she felt it, because I was plugged in.
“Now I wrap my fingers around you and squeeze a little bit everywhere.” She whimpered. “I massage this lovely butt of yours, nice and hard. I bet you hardly ever get a decent butt massage, because your muscles are so strong, nobody can dig in.”
She squirmed nicely.
“Now I slip just my pinkie into your vulva. Mmm, slippery. Is it too big?”
She squirmed and her legs slid apart.
“Guess not.” She smelled awesome. It was going to take a lot of self-control on my part to keep from banging her in the middle of this, but I’d promised. Sex-demony sex.
“Okay, in and out with my pinkie now. Must feel as big as a horse schlong, huh? In. In. In. In. Harder. Little harder. Brace yourself, honey.”
I pushed the base of her spine in little rhythmic pushes. She should feel that like an antiaircraft gun. She jerked and jerked as if I was really banging her.
This was fun, but it was not the point of the exercise.
“Okay, ’nuff of that,” I said.
“No!” she yelled, but I was firm. I withdrew my hand from her tailbone. She stopped heaving and made a whimpering sound.
That almost convinced me to quit with the magic, but I’d promised.
“You’re a ton of fun, you know that?” I said. “Okay, get ready for the main event.”
Her eyes had been squinched shut on a scowl, but she relaxed a bit.
“You better,” she warned me. “I can’t take a lot of this.”
“You’ll take as much as I give you,” I said, placing my hand on her tailbone again. “Now lie still.”
Her hand twitched, as if she was tempted to touch herself, but she laid it back down and stilled. Her breath was coming hard now. Sweat covered her. She looked good enough to eat.
Which was what I was going to do now.
“I want you to imagine for me a big pot full of melted chocolate. Big pot. Lobster pot. Giant spaghetti pot.”
“Dark chocolate?” she said.
“Of course,” I said, as if offended. “Okay, ready?”
Her nipples crinkled. Damn, that’s a compliment. Archie, my boy, you still got it.
“Now I pick you up with both hands, under your arms. My hands are big enough that you weigh nothing to me. I lift you up and I dip you into the chocolate, feet first. Going slow here. Is the chocolate too hot?”
“No,” she said tightly.
“Up to your ankles. Up to your knees.”
She quivered.
“Then I lift you up. Chocolate drips off your toes. I lick the chocolate on your knee. Feel how big my tongue is. I can cover your whole knee with it. Yummmm.”
She arched her back. Her knee slid up.
“Lie still or it won’t work,” I lied. I wanted to see when she broke.
She quivered again, but her knee slid down flat.
“Now I take your foot in my mouth, your whole foot, and I suck the chocolate off it.” I brought my lips close to her ear. “Mmmmmm. Think I’ll lick your foot clean. Suck it. Lick it. I
lick between your toes. I’m licking the sole of your foot and my tongue is longer than a dog’s tongue. My tongue can lick aaall the way up the inside of your calf. My tongue is smearing chocolate all up your knee, your thigh, whoops, I think I’ll just flick your pussy once, and lick back down the inside of your other thigh.”
Her head rolled from side to side, but her eyes stayed shut. Her nipples were like little rocks. I’d meant to let her come soon, but those nipples looked so good…
“I love chocolate,” I said, dropping my voice. “I love chocolate belly button. I dip my finger into the chocolate and drop some right into your belly button.”
She jerked, as if she felt the chocolate hit her belly button.
“Now I lick your belly button clean.”
She made little grunting noises. The soft flesh at her belly actually dimpled. I’d never done this with a woman whose mojo was coming on, and I wondered for a moment if I was biting off more than I could chew.
Chew. I looked at those hard, sweaty nipples again. Stay on task, Archimedes.
“I dunk you in the chocolate again, really slowly. You can feel that dark warm slippery stuff coming up over your calves, your knees, your thighs. It hits your pussy and makes you feel like a very bad girl. Thick, dark, melted chocolate comes up over your waist, so warm, so smooth, and then it covers your breasts. My, my, look at these chocolate nipples sticking up here. Like little chocolate-covered coffee beans. I want to bite one. I think I’ll bite—both of them at once.”
She convulsed then. Her hands clutched the coverlet, her throat arched, her head went back—oh man.
“Now I lick them clean with my giant tongue. It’s a good tongue, isn’t it? Big as my hand. I can get both nipples at once! Lick, lick,” I said, slower and slower. “Lick. Lick. Lick. Maybe my tongue should be raspier. A bit more like five-o’clock shadow, licking your whole breast. A giant raspy tongue that pulls back and flicks your nipples.”
She gave a yell then. I thought she’d break, but she lay there, arched, sweating, her head thrown back and her eyes squinched shut, quivering.
“I can’t help it,” I said, my voice hoarse with desire. “You look so delicious. I’ve got to eat you now.” I brought my lips closer to her ear, letting my breath puff into it. “You may spread your legs.”
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