by Jasmine Walt
“Going out?” he asks, flicking his eyes up at me for half a second.
“Yeah. I need to run.”
“Feeling restless again?”
I open the fridge and pull out a bottle of water. “Is it that obvious?”
“No. But I can tell.”
Biting my lip, I turn around and face Jacques. The others don’t know about the weird bond Jac and I share, and neither of us are eager to bring it up. I’ve seen into his mind, read his thoughts, felt his emotions. We’ve fucked many times in our dreams, and it’s not your run-of-the-mill sex dream.
I dream it.
He dreams it.
It’s all kinds of fucked up.
“I have a lot on my mind,” I offer, twisting the cap off the water bottle.
“Are you thinking about work?”
I take a drink and nod. “And other things.”
“You’re not going to elaborate, are you?”
“There’s no point,” I sigh, my mind flashing to the image of my dead parents. My mother’s lifeless eyes haunt me the most. “Nothing can change the past.”
“Right.” Jacques sets down his pen and closes the book. He stands, stretching his large wings out behind him. “And speaking of the past, I finished another section of the book.”
“Thank you. What’s this one about?”
“Goetia.”
“What is that?”
“Complicated dark magic.”
“Oh.” I put the cap back on my water bottle. “So my ancestors were into dark shit, huh?”
“I’m not sure. It’s explained, but there are no spells indicating its use.”
I nod, and that feeling of frustration comes rushing back. If my mom were alive, would I have answers to these questions? I never knew about this house or my aunt. As much as I don’t want to harbor feelings of resentment, I can’t help but feel them start to form. I was young, too young for any of this to be explained, but did they know I’d come into powers eventually?
I just want to talk to my mother.
“Goetia involves conjuring demons to carry out acts for you,” Jacques goes on.
“You weren’t kidding on the dark part. I’m guessing there’s a catch.”
Jacques gives me a wry smile. “There’s always a catch, and demons always want something in return.” He steps closer and my heart lurches. “It’s not something you want to get involved in.”
I run my eyes down his bare, muscular chest, stopping at the waistband of the athletic pants he’s wearing. He was surprised at how comfortable and light the fabric was when he put them on, and it was oddly endearing. There are so many things I take for granted here in this century.
He reaches out, fingertips brushing over the top of my shoulder. A chill runs through me, but instead of making me feel cold, it sparks a fire along my spine, heating me up from the inside out.
Jacques brushes my hair behind my shoulder and runs his hand down the length of my arm, stopping at my fingers. Gently, he intertwines his with mine, and inches closer. Intense feelings of love and desire threaten to take over, and I struggle to separate them from what I’m really feeling.
I like Jac.
I’m attracted to him.
I’d very much like to feel his arms around me, have his lips press against mine, and have his cock thrust into me.
He’s looking at me the same way, but I wonder if he’s looking at me and seeing her. Braeya. The woman who cast love spells on him, messed with his heart and head, and ultimately, was the reason all four of the guys got cursed to be the way they are.
My eyes fall shut and I bring my head down, resting it against Jacques’s chest. Slowly, he slides his arm around me, resting his hand on the small of my back. My heart lurches. I bring my free hand up, feeling the small ridge of scar tissue on his side. Everything inside me is on fire.
His other hand settles on my waist, and he shuffles closer, widening his legs. I move in, needing to feel more of him against me. He moves his head down, parting his lips. Goosebumps break out along my arms, and my heart starts to pound.
“You should run before it gets too late,” he whispers, fingers digging into my flesh. He’s fighting his feelings toward me, or at least his attraction. I don’t know why, and it’s getting harder and harder not to feel hurt by it.
I swallow my pounding heart, not ready to move away. “Do you want to come with me?”
He brings his head down, nuzzles his lips against my flesh. “Why run when I can fly?”
His breath is warm against my neck and his words make me smile. “True. If I could fly I probably wouldn’t go for a run in this heat either.”
“Be careful out there.”
“I will be.” Lifting my head, I look into his eyes and see the longing and desire reflected back at me. I’m tempted to kiss him, to be the one to make the first move and just see what happens. As if he can read my mind—again—he moves away, picking up the grimoire and going back to the table.
“I’ll keep watch tonight,” he says, voice strained. Taking the notebook and the grimoire with him, he goes out the back and takes off into the night.
Trying to shake off the feelings he gave me, I take another drink of cold water and head outside, stopping on the cobblestone path leading to the driveway for some light stretching.
Hasan jumps from the roof, gracefully sailing down to the ground next to me.
“The usual path tonight?” he asks, looking out at the street.
“Yeah,” I say, and pull one arm across my body. “Though I probably won’t go as far. It’s pretty damn hot out, but I need to run. Either that or hit someone,” I grumble, and pull my hair up into a ponytail.
He gives me a grin. “Hit me.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You think you can take me?”
“I know I can take you.”
Rolling my neck, I move back and take on a defensive stance. “Come at me, bro.”
“Bro?” He cocks his head to the side.
“Never mind.” Using the distraction to my advantage, I take the first swing and almost get Hasan right in the face. He ducks out of the way at the last minute and blocks my blow before turning on me and sending one my way.
We continue sparring, practicing our moves and perfecting my defenses. I spin around, ready to land a kick right between Hasan’s legs, when he jumps up, wings spread.
“No fair,” I pant, lowering my leg. I wouldn’t really kick him that hard in the dick. I happen to like his big dick too much to risk hurting it. “I can’t fly.”
“Your opponents are rarely your equal,” he tells me. There’s something sexy about a guy with an accent, and something even sexier about a guy with an accent who can get your blood pumping the way Hasan just did.
“Right. And once I learn to do this—” I flick my hand out, trying to conjure the flames. Nothing happens. I shake my head at myself and lower my hand. “Then I’ll be the one on top.”
Hasan suddenly advances, taking me by the waist. “I do like when you’re on top.” He crushes me in an embrace, lips landing on the side of my neck. “Your heart is beating fast.” He flattens his large paw of a hand over my chest, feeling my pulse.
“Sign of a good workout, right?”
He nods, gathering my hair in his hand. “Why did you want to hit something?”
I let my eyes fall shut and my head rest against his firm chest. “It’s just…I don’t know.”
He moves away only so he can give me an incredulous look. “I don’t believe you.”
“You shouldn’t. Because I do know.” Letting out another breath to try and steady my breathing, I turn away from Hasan to grab my water. I take a drink, pass the water to Hasan, and sit on the stone steps leading to the house. “I’ve been wondering a lot lately if my mom knew about this…about the magic. It would be so much easier if she’d told me about it, or left some sort of cryptic ‘if-you’re-watching-this-then-I’m-dead’ sort of video for me to watch that explains it all. I just…I feel alone
.”
“You’re not alone.” He says each word slowly and deliberately. His words, though simple, strike something inside of me, and the tears I fought off earlier threaten to come back.
“I know,” I whisper, eyes shutting. “I know.”
Hasan takes me in his arms, lifting me to my feet. I let him pull me right to him, relaxing in his strong embrace. He tips my chin up and kisses me. I surrender to him, kissing him back with desperation.
Hasan picks me up, still kissing me, and carries me into the house. We’re alone now, with the others off flying around the night, on the lookout for danger. Hasan shuts the door behind him with more force than necessary, and the blow echoes through the house, rattling the pictures hanging on the wall.
“I need to fuck you, Ace,” he growls. One of the best things about getting in bed with Hasan is how direct and animalistic he is. He’s not afraid to tell me exactly what he wants. He’s even less afraid to just do it. I’m his for the taking, and fuck, I love it.
With me still in his arms, he crosses through the house, going to the kitchen. He lifts me up, placing me on the kitchen counter. I wrap my arms around his neck, widening my legs and welcoming him in between. He steps forward, lips on mine once again.
“Ace,” he growls, taking his lips from mine. He puts them on my neck, nipping and sucking at my skin. I toss my head back and let my hands slide down his broad shoulders and over his muscular chest, feeling every ridge of muscle and every line of scar covering his skin. A warrior through and through, the battle scars left on this beast of a man prove how lethal he is, reminding me how intense things are about to get.
He brings his mouth to my neck again, teeth grazing my skin before biting harder, sending a shock to my system and causing desire to swirl inside me. He wraps my ponytail around his hand and jerks my head to the side, further exposing my neck. I’m a sucker once I’m kissed there, and Hasan and the twins know it. It’s my kryptonite, and I’m more than okay with them all using it to their advantage.
I bring my hands down to the waist of the dark jeans he’s wearing, circling my thumb over the metal button. His cock is starting to get hard, and feeling it rise and stiffen against me makes me so fucking wet. Slowly, I undo the button, feeling the tip of his cock already sticking out the top of his pants. The zipper goes down on its own, unable to hold back his erection. I slide one hand inside, spreading precum down his shaft. He groans, head drooping forward from my touch. I continue to jerk him off, bringing my hand up, circling the tip of his cock with my thumb, and then moving my hand back down until I cup his balls.
One of his hands slides down my back, feeling for the hook on my bra. I lean away, removing my hands from inside his pants. He groans, missing my touch already.
“It’s in the front,” I whisper, slowly pulling down the zipper of the bra. He licks his lips, eyeing my breasts, and eagerly takes over undressing me, pushing the straps of my bra over my shoulders until it falls down my arms.
Arching my back, I hold onto his biceps as he leans in, kissing his way down my neck until he reaches my breasts. Taking one in his mouth, he gives a hard suck and circles his tongue around my nipple. Heat rushes through me, making me more and more desperate for his touch.
He straightens up, mouth going to mine again, and kisses me like his life depends on it. I scoot closer to the edge of the counter, wrapping my legs around him, rubbing my clit against his cock. The fabric of our pants is in the way, but it still feels good. Still kissing me, Hasan reaches down and pulls my shoes off, letting them drop to the kitchen floor with a dull thud.
Then he puts both hands on my shoulders and pushes me back, until I’m lying on the island counter. Roughly, he sweeps his hands down and hooks his fingers into the elastic waist of my shorts and yanks them off, leaving me in my pale yellow panties.
Modern undergarments are still new enough to him that they turn him on even more. If I were to go out and get actual lingerie, I think his head would explode. I smile at the thought of it, loving the effect I have on the guys.
There’s nothing traditional about us. Gargoyle aside, everything about our relationship is different. And I love it.
Hasan moves down, trailing kisses from my breasts to my stomach, stopping just above my pussy. He spreads my legs wider and tosses one over his shoulder. Knowing how much I hate being teased, he slowly walks his fingers up and down my thigh, mouth hovering over my core, breath warming me even through the fabric of my underwear.
I lift my ass into the air, pushing my pelvis against him. My clit is begging to be touched. Licked. Sucked. Stroked.
Fuck. I need him. Now.
Hasan takes a hold of my panties and practically rips them off, throwing them over his shoulder with haste. This time, he dives right in, mouth open, and I gasp loudly with pleasure as soon as his tongue lashes against me.
“You taste so fucking good,” he growls, lapping up my wetness. My eyes flutter shut as tingles of pleasure make their way through me. I’m pretty sure I’m lying on packages of soy sauce and fortune cookies left out from dinner, but I don’t care. Nothing matters right now except what Hasan is doing to me. Because I’m close to coming already.
He further parts my legs, shifting his position and moving a hand under my ass. His fingers brush over my asshole, causing me to stiffen slightly. Hasan flicks his gaze up, a devilish glint in his eyes.
Then he plunges his tongue inside me, sweeping it up over my clit. I reach down, taking a tangle of his long hair in my fingers, and lift my head up off the counter, watching him eat me out. I’m so close to coming, and he knows it. Gripping my ass, he slides me to the edge of the counter and slips a finger inside me, going right to my G-spot. He gently presses against it as he continues to work his tongue, slowly speeding up his movements until I’m right there teetering on the edge.
My mouth falls open and I pull his hair, body reacting as the orgasm rolls through me. He keeps eating me out, holding me tight against his mouth, feeling me squirm with pleasure and magnifying just how fucking good this feels.
My heart is racing and my pussy spasms wildly around his finger. He lowers me back onto the counter and kisses my thigh before straightening back up. Light pours down on me, and suddenly I feel exposed. I’m lying here, naked and panting, on display for the world to see.
But only one person can see me right now, and the way Hasan is looking at me gives me all the confidence I need. He stares down at me like I’m the only woman in the world, like I’m all he needs and everything he wants.
Still trying to catch my breath, I push myself up and place a hand on Hasan’s waist, urging him closer again. One of his large hands lands on the small of my back, steadying me, helping me stay upright until I can think straight again. He licks his lips, moving in to kiss me again.
I bring my hands up, feeling the scars on his chest, and trace one with my fingertip.
“What’s this from?” I ask once he stops kissing me.
“I don’t remember,” he confesses, not interested in talking about his battle scars. “I fought a lot.”
I slowly slide my hands down, following another faint scar that ends right above his navel. I part my lips, shifting my gaze lower, and a deep hunger takes over when I look at the shining tip of his cock. My pussy quivers at the thought, and even though I’m still recovering from the orgasm he just gave me, I want him inside me.
Hasan steps back and pushes his pants down. I watch, practically salivating, as he strips himself naked. He’s away from me for just seconds. But in those few seconds, I become desperate for his touch again. As soon as his pants are off and he’s back within reach, I pull him to me, welcoming him between my legs. His hard cock presses against my clit, making me let out a moan.
Before spreading me wide and thrusting that big dick inside me, he wraps me in his arms, wings spread slightly behind him. I close my eyes and rest my head on his chest, taking solace in his embrace.
I’m naked. Vulnerable. Definitely distracted.
But I feel so fucking safe with him. With all the guys. I’ve never had a bigger sense of security than I do now.
“Are you ready, Ace?” he growls, wrapping my hair around his hand again. He pulls my head to the side and grazes his teeth over my neck.
“Yes,” I pant, aching to feel him inside me. Tingles plague my body, sending little pulses of pleasure to my core. I’m so hot for him.
His hands travel down my body, not stopping until his fingers hover between my legs. He plunges one inside, spreading my wetness. His other hand lands on his cock, and I grip his waist, preparing myself, going crazy with anticipation. His thumb circles my clit, and even I’m not expecting it to feel as good as it does. Moaning loudly, I let my head fall back as I enjoy the fuck out of his touch.
“You like that, Ace?” he grunts, moving his thumb faster.
“Yes,” I moan. “Don’t stop.”
Trying to somewhat return the favor, I take hold of his cock, slowly sliding my hand up and down, and he continues to touch me. I’m already hot and bothered from before. It doesn’t take long until I come again, wetness spilling from me.
“Your turn for fun,” I breathe, unable to open my eyes just yet.
“I am having fun,” he assures me. “I like making you come.”
I run my hands up his back, stopping at the base of his wings. “I like when you come too.”
“Well, in that case…” he says, and picks me up, carrying me into the family room. We won’t fit on the couch, not with his wings, so he lays me down on the soft rug in front of the fireplace instead, moving on top of me. Parting my legs, I welcome him between them, feeling the tip of his cock rub against me.
His lips collide with mine and he guides his cock to me, lining it up and then thrusting in. Hard. Deep.
I cry out again, filled by every inch of his massive cock. Wings spread behind him, Hasan pulls out only to thrust in deep again, sending a shockwave of pleasure through me. He brings his hips back, almost sliding that big dick out of me, and then pushes in again. Hard. Harder. My heart races again and I angle my hips up so he hits me in just the right spot.
Slitting my eyes open, I steal a glance at him, feeling even hotter when I see the look on his face, knowing he’s enjoying this just as much as I am. His breathing becomes ragged, and I know he’s getting close to coming.