My Favorite Witch

by Lisa Plumley

  A heartbeat later, she closed her mouth around him. He felt warm and smooth and indescribably wonderful. He pulsed with life and need and urgency, and as she swirled her tongue around him, she moaned her intentions to enjoy him fully—to make him feel her desire completely. This was going to be good. So good. Good for her and for him, because nothing was more intimate than this union between them, complete and delicate and full and new.

  “Wait.” Beneath her, T.J. jerked. A hoarse moan came from him, then a husky protest. “Stop. Dayna, you don’t—”

  “—know what I’m doing?” Pausing to give him a very personal kiss—one that made him shudder—Dayna wrapped her hand around his cock…the better to keep him with her. “I think if you’ll give me a minute, you’ll realize I know exactly what I’m doing.”

  Smiling, she enveloped him once more. She stretched her mouth wide, wonderfully wide, forgetting all about the nubbly carpet beneath her knees and the difficult night she’d had. Now there was only T.J., groaning and panting and grabbing her head with a touch that communicated apprehension and need at once.

  “No.” Shaking, he held her away. He stroked her cheek with his thumb, his desperate gaze full of questions. “You must know I want this, but warlocks…even Patayan…they don’t—”

  “They don’t…what?” With difficulty, Dayna lifted her attention from his cock. She raised her eyebrows. “They don’t like this?” She trailed her fingertips along the rigid length of him, loving the way he quaked at her touch. “I disagree. I think you like this a lot. I know I do. I want more.” She leaned upward, kissed him, then smiled. “Give me what I want, T.J.”

  He seemed shaken. “It’s forbidden. Like bonding magic.”

  Confused, she stared at him. “Bonding magic is forbidden?”

  Reluctantly, T.J. nodded. “Yes. And so is…” He gestured to his still-erect cock, drawing her rapt attention—and inciting her interest—all over again. “What you were just doing.”

  Dayna scoffed. “You’re kidding me.”

  He gave an agonized groan. “I wish I was.”

  He really meant it, she realized. “Oh.” Wow. “I see. I guess I left Covenhaven before I learned about that policy.” Thank God. In some ways, the witching world was completely whack. “Then that means you’ve never…? With anyone?”

  “Hell no.” His denial was instant. “And I shouldn’t have let you go as far as you did either. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” T.J.’s gaze veered guiltily to hers as though confessing a dark secret. “I never allow intimacy like that.”

  “Never? That’s too bad. You’re missing out.”

  “Maybe humans would think so, but—”

  “No, everyone would think so. Seriously.”

  “I shouldn’t have said anything.” Uncomfortably, T.J. shifted. Dayna guessed that having a heart-to-heart while sporting a raging hard-on was awkward, to say the least.

  “Come on,” she urged. “Hold still. Let me show you.”

  With a suspicious glint to his gaze, T.J. stared at her. His chest heaved on an indrawn breath. He fisted his hands.

  “I’ll take your silence as a ‘yes.’” Overwhelmed with tenderness for him, Dayna bent her head. She trailed her tongue along one side of his shaft, then the other. T.J.’s hands tightened in her hair. His next attempt to stop her ended on a strangled groan. “See? It’s good, right? Mmm. So good…”

  “T.J. shook his head, anguish plain on his face. He nodded. “I—you can’t—if you continue, I don’t know what will happen.”

  “Mmm.” She kissed the fat head of his cock, enjoying the way he trembled. “I have a pretty good idea. Trust me.”

  His whole body quivered. “It’s a total loss of control.”

  “That’s the plan.” Slowly, she licked him. She sucked him into the warm wetness of her mouth again, luxuriating in the heat and texture and scent of him. She lifted her head and ran her mouth along him, smiling as she did. “Trust me, T.J.”

  “I can’t.” Struggle emanated from him. “I won’t.”

  “Try it. For me.” She caressed him with her palm, amazed that he could have any resistance left at all. She’d never seen a warlock so huge, so stiff, so ready. “Think of it as a favor. You know I love everything that’s forbidden and dangerous.”

  For a heartbeat, T.J. was silent. Then laughter burst from him in an intoxicating wave. It was the first time, Dayna realized, she’d ever heard her tracer sound truly free.

  “You want this because it’s against the rules?” he asked.

  “Well…not just because of that.” With a naughty grin, Dayna traced a path upward from his flat belly. She swirled her fingers in his chest hair, then gave a gentle tug. “Also because I want to feel as close to you as possible. And this”—she returned to his cock, kissing him before dragging her lips against him in a silent entreaty—“is how I want to do that.”

  “It’s not safe. I’ve never lost control before. I—”

  “I’ll take my chances. You don’t have to protect me.”

  He frowned. “I’m a guardian. I’ll always protect you.”

  “Not from yourself.” She gave him a stern look. “Okay?”

  To her surprise, T.J. paused to think about that. Conflict still radiated from him. But then, slowly, he grabbed the sofa cushions beside him. He fisted his hands until the muscles in his arms grew taut and corded beneath his multiple tattoos. He planted his feet, drew in a deep breath, then nodded.

  “Go ahead,” he said in a gravelly voice. “I trust you.”

  At his roughly spoken words, Dayna felt oddly blessed. She had the sense that trust was a gift T.J. didn’t give easily—or if Leo Garmin was right—ever before. That made her special to him.

  “Since it’s your first time,” she said with a fond smile as she settled back on her knees, “I’ll try to be gentle.”

  Then she lowered her head and took her tracer to a place he’d never been—but, if she was very, very lucky, would want to visit with her time and time again.

  Sprawled on the sofa in a daze, T.J. wrapped his arm protectively around Dayna. She gave a lazy wiggle, then snuggled closer to him. Her mussed hair tickled his nose; the delectable curve of her ass fit against his groin as though she’d been born to spoon him. Short of breath and filmed in sweat, he sighed.

  “I love the way you break the rules,” he said.

  “I knew you would.” The teasing smile in her voice touched him clearly. “If only you’d give it half a chance.”

  “I still want to know what happened, though. I really can’t remember.” Because he’d trusted her. He’d lost control. That made today a day of firsts. Marveling at the realization, T.J. kissed the top of his bonded witch’s head. He squeezed her more tightly against him. “You’re going to tell me sooner or later.”

  “What…happened?” With outrageous faked innocence, Dayna rolled over to face him. Her breasts pressed against his chest. She batted her eyelashes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I guess…there was shaking. And moaning. And some begging. And I’m pretty sure Deuce’s sofa will never be the same—”

  United, their gazes traveled to the shredded cushions.

  “—but as far as ‘what happened’ to you goes…”

  “Yes?” T.J. urged in a growl. “What about it?”

  “…when you lost control…” Dayna pursed her lips. “Well, that’s a delicious memory I’m keeping all for myself.”

  Her warm laughter drove him crazy. With another growl, T.J. pulled over a covering of shadows—just to prove he hadn’t surrendered all his power to her—then flipped Dayna on her back.

  He moved atop her in almost the same moment, savoring the surprise in her eyes almost as much as he relished what was coming next. He caught hold of her knees, tugged them apart, then settled himself on his belly between them. Wearing a wicked grin that probably matched his bonded witch’s smile, T.J. trailed his hand over her stomach…then lower, between her thighs. The heat and scent and wetnes
s there made him groan.

  “If you’re planning to coerce me into confessing,” Dayna said pertly, “I have news for you. It won’t work.”

  “That’s what you think.” Leisurely, T.J. caressed her. He watched her reaction…and was gratified when she moaned. “I’ll give you one more chance. Tell me what happened when I lost control…and I’ll go easy on you. I won’t even make you beg.”

  She laughed. “Go ahead. Do your worst. I’m unbreakable.”

  On an indrawn breath, T.J. lowered his head. He spread her wide, then gently…softly…swept his tongue over her.

  “Hey!” Dayna yelped, instantly quivering. “Wait. You’re—”

  “—enjoying myself. Mmmm.” Closing his eyes, he lost himself to the slick, smooth feel of her—to the joy of making her feel every bit as good as he did right now. “You feel so amazing.”

  She squirmed, surprise evident in the way she planted a hand on his head. “Hold on. Doesn’t this witchfolk ban go both ways? I mean, I realize we’ve only just gotten bonded, so this whole witch-warlock thing is pretty new to me, but it only seemed reasonable to assume that if you weren’t supposed to enjoy what I did, then you’re really not supposed to do what you, um—” She broke off, shaking beneath the next slow, circular movements of his mouth. “Um, are doing. Mmm. Right now. So—”

  Momentarily, T.J. stopped. “I already broke one rule.” He smiled at her. “What makes you think I won’t break another one?”

  “Uhh…Patayan honor?” Dayna asked feebly. She caught the look in his eye. “Uh-oh. But—but—it’s forbidden! What about—”

  “It’s only forbidden because warlocks are susceptible to losing control during sex,” T.J. told her. “They can’t help it. They’re notorious for it. That means they’re liable to confess their magic to the wrong women. Sometimes to many wrong women.”

  “Warlock sluts,” Dayna muttered. “Oh! That feels so good. I’m going to stop you in a second, but in the meantime—”

  “In ancient times,” T.J. said in his most scholarly tone, “those women were sometimes deliberately sent to discover the warlocks’ witchfolk origins—and wipe them out.” He pressed his mouth to Dayna, then trailed his tongue up, down…He almost forgot what he’d been saying. It required all his discipline to sound unaffected when he picked up his explanation again. “The warlocks’ loose talk put entire communities at risk.”

  With a moan, T.J. decided he’d proved his point. Besides, he couldn’t remember why he was telling her this. Instead, he thought about learning what Dayna liked most. So far, she liked a gentle caress here…a softer touch there…and a whole lot of his agile tongue, moving in exactly the right way to bring her closer…closer…to losing control herself.

  “Ah. This isn’t fair!” Typically, Dayna didn’t surrender easily. She wriggled beneath him. “You still shouldn’t be—”

  “Witches don’t have the same susceptibility,” T.J. broke in, catching the trailing threads of his argument. “They can separate sex and love. And they can detect deception. That’s why the coven elders ruled that this”—T.J. swirled his tongue over the most sensitive part of her, thrilled by the way she clutched his head closer, despite her objections—“is okay.”

  Dayna panted, tensing beneath him. “Smart elders,” she managed. She fell silent. Then she appeared to remember she was debating with him. Weakly, she added, “But the coven elders who made that decision were all witches.” Another pant. “I think—they might have had”—she arched upward—“ulterior motives.”

  “Maybe.” T.J. lapped more slowly…more tauntingly. “And apparently, the truth still holds. I’m just as bad as those ancient warlocks were, because I just told you a closely guarded secret.” Lifting his head with effort, he smiled at her. “I guess you’re like those seductresses. You fucked my brains out.”

  “Not yet. But I will.” Dayna gasped. “Just—please—don’t—”

  “Stop? I won’t.” He gave her another smile. “I promise.”

  For long moments, T.J. kept his promise. The room filled with Dayna’s breathy cries. She rocked beneath him, making him hold tight to her hips as she finally, achingly, came undone beneath his mouth. She moaned and clutched him to her, then sank against the sofa’s ruined cushions.

  Beautiful and flushed, she lay there panting. Then Dayna opened her eyes. “You,” she accused, “don’t play fair.”

  “Tell me that later.” T.J. could scarcely form the words. With a rough, rocking motion, he covered her body with his own. He kissed her hungrily, reveling in the way Dayna opened herself completely to him. “After I make us both crazy.”

  “Again?” she breathed. “But I…oh! Ah. Mm-hmmm.”

  Her husky cry of assent made him want her even more. Wild with desire, T.J. thrust himself inside her. At the last moment, he’d have sworn he saw the swirling aurora borealis of Dayna’s magic again…and his own magic, leaving him to join with it.

  An instant later, Dayna arched her hips upward to meet him, and T.J. lost his mind completely. Whatever he’d seen was gone.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dayna emerged from her bedroom the following morning with an unstoppable smile on her face. If this was what cusping felt like, it wasn’t all bad. Sure, her thigh muscles felt quivery. Her knees felt wobbly. And her throat ached with the uninhibited cries T.J. had wrung from her over the course of the night. But she could cope with that. Just so long as she had a little pick-me-up to take the edge off. And maybe some breakfast to—

  Something zoomed toward her. A plate, she realized at the last second. Dayna thought about ducking—her usual nonath-lete’s reaction whenever anything came at her quickly—but at the last second she whipped her hand upward. The plate smacked into it with a jolt. With an equally jarring reaction, she realized she’d actually caught it: a plate of waffles. The aromas of maple syrup, bananas, and—peanut butter?—reached up to her.

  She was much faster with the flying glass of orange juice.

  Catching it in her opposite hand, Dayna smiled. Hmm. Today was off to an excellent start already. Happily, she followed the sound of voices toward the tiny patio outside Deuce’s kitchen. As she’d predicted, her roommate and her bonded Patayan guardian were already seated at the sun-splashed wrought-iron table.

  “Good morning!” Smugly, she slid her breakfast into position. She helped herself to a seat next to T.J. “My magic is awesome this morning! I guess being bonded agrees with me, because I only have to think about something and…poof! It’s there, magiked into existence. It’s just like the books say.”

  “That’s not magic, that’s theft.” With a dour look, Deuce stared at her plate. “That’s my breakfast. I left it on the counter when I followed him out here a few minutes ago.”

  Deuce jerked his thumb toward T.J., who lounged in the sunniest seat, entirely naked…except for the low-slung, waist-wrapped striped beach towel that Deuce had obviously tossed his way. In the light of a new day, her tracer appeared even yummier than last night.

  “Oh.” Disappointed, Dayna looked at her waffles. “That explains why these waffles are covered in bananas, maple syrup, and peanut butter. I wondered why I would conjure up something like that. I don’t even like peanut butter, so—”

  “Exactly what,” Deuce broke in, “did you do to him?”

  “Huh?” Dayna chugged some juice. “What do you mean?”

  Deuce jabbed his chin at T.J. “He looks all googly eyed.”

  “Ah.” Realizing what Deuce meant, Dayna smiled. She caught T.J.’s hand. “Yeah, well…That makes two of us.”

  T.J. smiled at her. His smile broadened as his gaze dipped to her golden armlet. Her armlet warmed itself in response.

  Mmm. Being bonded was good. Humming to herself, Dayna examined her breakfast. Then she closed her eyes, recalled an incantation from a book she’d read yesterday, and…“Voilà!”

  A duplicate breakfast appeared. Pleased, Dayna nudged her original plate toward Deuce, then dug in. She was starving.<
br />
  “Ugh.” In dismay, she let her fork clatter to her plate after one bite. “These waffles taste funny. Flat, somehow.”

  “It’s the peanut butter,” Deuce said. “Give it another—”

  “It’s not the peanut butter,” T.J. disagreed. “It’s the magic. Specifically, the molecules. You didn’t conjure new waffles—you rearranged Deuce’s waffles. And his plate.” Ignoring a stony-faced Deuce, T.J. pointed to a hairline crack as it crept across the new plate she’d conjured. “Even witchfolk can’t create something out of nothing. Your results are weaker than usual, because your magic is so…inexpert.” T.J. frowned. “Can’t you see the pixilation? It’s all over everything.”

  “Are you kidding me? I can’t even see my own aura.”

  T.J.’s frown deepened. “You can’t?”

  “Nope.” Dayna peered at her arm. Still no dice. Whatever her mother had seen was invisible to her. “Is it still there?”

  “Yeah.” Deuce nodded. “Even I can see it. It’s a little weird looking, kind of raggedy around the edges, but—”

  “But it’s yours.” T.J. shot a quelling glance at his partner. “You can learn to see it—it just takes practice and openness. I’ll show you how.”

  “Okay.” Neither practice nor openness sounded all that great to her. But she was here to learn. “I still think you’re just annoyed because I didn’t conjure you any waffles,” Dayna teased. She gave T.J. a sunny smile. “Admit it. You were hoping I’d pamper you like a witchy version of June Cleaver.”

  “Not hardly. I like my women strong—and capable of wielding more than a vacuum.” T.J. traced his fingertips over her arm. His touch made her shiver. For a minute, all they did was gaze at one another. “Besides, I’m perfectly capable of taking what I want, when I want it. Do you need a reminder of that?”

  Spellbound, Dayna shook her head. “No. I remember.”

  She remembered him, making her writhe with desire and need. She remembered herself, taking more and more from him. And as she looked at T.J., she knew he remembered, too. The air between them felt thick and soft, warm and safe. It lulled her into releasing a contented sigh. She wove her fingers with T.J.’s.