Closing her eyes, she felt the cool wind blowing across her body, tightening her nipples into points and sliding between her thighs to tease the lips of her sex. She visualized the clouds parting and a pure, white radiance pouring down from above to fill her to the brim, the way clear water fills a cup.
Goddess, she thought. Help me do this right.
Then, opening her eyes, she stooped and picked up a candle along with a lighter from the little pile she’d laid out. Walking swiftly to the east-most point of the circle, she placed the yellow candle carefully upright in the ring of salt and lit it as she spoke.
“Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers of the East. Spirits of Air, powers of Thought. I call upon you to lend your essence to this rite.”
Walking to the western-most point, she lit the blue candle and spoke again.
“Hail to the guardians of the watchtowers of the West. Spirits of Water, powers of Emotion. Come to me now and lend your power to this rite.”
She did the same for the southern and northern points of the circle, lighting the red and green candles, calling the circle as she had so many times in the past. And to her surprise, she felt a power rising in her that rivaled anything she’d ever felt before.
There were plenty of people who called themselves Wiccans or witches, Jo knew. Many of them went through the motions, doing spells and working rituals but nothing actually happened. That was because while they might have the desire to be witches, they didn’t actually have the aptitude or ability for it.
“They got no juice, honey,” Miranda had said in her soft, deeply Southern accent. “Ain’t a one of ‘em got the power in their whole body that you got in your pinky finger. You’re a natural witch—you have the strength to work the Craft to your will.”
Jo had found her mentor’s words to be true. When she cast spells, things happened. She wasn’t just playing at being a witch to make herself feel better or more powerful—she actually was one, and she’d rarely called the circle without feeling her natural talent rise within her. But this time was different. This time . . .
It’s like I called for soft rain and got a flood, Jo thought, wondering at the sense of pure power that prickled the skin of her naked body into gooseflesh and raised the short hairs at the back of her neck. Like I called for a spring breeze and got a hurricane.
The feeling of extreme power almost made her pause in the ritual. Was she at some kind of supernatural nexus here? Or did Reese’s presence have something to do with the intensification of her abilities? Whatever the reason, the result was going to be an exceptionally powerful spell.
I can’t stop now, Jo told herself. I’ve already called the circle and asked the Goddess for help. I just have to make sure I don’t screw this up.
Taking a deep breath, she continued. Putting down the lighter, she picked up the small, cut crystal bottle of red chrism oil. She dropped a tiny bit on Reese’s white t-shirt, which she had spread on the ground inside the circle and then turned to face him. He was watching her, an intent expression in his deep brown eyes, as though he was drinking in everything she was saying and doing and saving it all to mull it over and process later.
Jo closed her eyes and intoned:
“Behold now in this sacred hour, I call upon the Goddess’s power
Thy body now shall yearn for me and mine for yours again times three.
Listen as I say the spell, bide the words and hear them well
As I say, so shall we do, though moon be full or be it new
So shall we two be bound as one, beneath the moon, beneath the sun.”
The words of the sexual binding ritual were filled with power—indeed, Jo felt the tips of her breasts tingling and her sex throbbing between her thighs. Desire flooded her and she tried to push it away. It was an uncomfortable feeling—one she wasn’t used to at all. After the attack so many years ago, she’d preferred to think of herself as uninterested in carnal pleasures.
She heard a low, hoarse growl from Reese. Looking at him, she was startled to see that his brown eyes were glowing with a golden light and his big, muscular frame looked tense, his broad shoulders tight. His reddish-brown hair was tousled as though he’d been running his hands through it and his mouth was open, almost as though he was panting. Clearly, he was feeling the power too.
The sound of his lustful growl filled her with even more unwilling desire and for a brief instant, she had a mental image of herself on her hands and knees in the moonlight while Reese crouched behind her and filled her with himself, thrusting the long, hard shaft of his cock deep in her willing pussy . . .
Jo frowned and pushed the erotic image away. Where had that come from? She’d sworn off men and sex years ago when she first came to Avalon and offered the Goddess her celibacy, and she certainly didn’t want to start being sexual again now. In fact, she was working this entire ritual to avoid going in that direction—or having Reese go in it, anyway.
It’s only temporary, she comforted herself. As soon as she got through the entire ceremony and said the words of reversal, she would feel no more attraction to Reese and he would feel no more attraction for her. They would stay in the house feeling nothing but safe and dependable friendship for each other.
In the meantime, though, she had to go through the uncomfortable feelings of desire in order to reach the purity and safety of disinterest.
Almost halfway there, Jo told herself. You can do this—keep going!
“Reese,” she said, addressing him again. “My body shall you worship, with hands and lips and tongue. My lips and no other’s shall you kiss.” Here she dipped one finger in the red chrism oil and painted a bit of it over her full lips. “My breasts alone shall you cup . . .” Jo dipped back in the holy oil and circled each breast, leaving a shining trail in the light of the setting sun which bathed her in its orange and purple and crimson rays. “My nipples and no other’s shall you suckle,” she went on.
She felt her cheeks getting hot at the erotic words and the action they called for but there was no help for it—she had to go through the entire ritual before she could reverse it. Dipping her finger in the oil again, she painted two circles around the tight buds of her nipples.
Power poured through her and shivers of desire seemed to shoot from her tender tips straight to the swollen mound of her pussy. For a moment she swore she could see the big Shifter on his knees before her, taking her aching nipples into his warm, sensuous mouth, drawing them between his lips and sucking hard as he traced warm patterns with his tongue around her sensitive flesh . . .
One look at Reese told her he was imagining the same thing. His deep brown eyes were still glowing and half-lidded with desire and there was a very obvious bulge in the crotch of his jeans. For a moment, Jo had to fight with herself to stop from crossing the circle and throwing her arms around his neck to drag him down for a kiss.
She pushed away the urge with incredible difficulty. She didn’t want a man—any man! And certainly not one who was a stranger and too young for her, she told herself. What was wrong with her? Why was this spell so devastatingly powerful?
For whatever reason, she was deep in it now and couldn’t stop, no matter what.
Have to go on—have to finish this before the power and desire overcome me! she thought desperately.
Dipping her fingers again into the chrism oil, she painted two lines on her inner thighs.
“My . . . my thighs shall part for you alone,” she said, trying to remember the exact lines in Miranda’s book of shadows. She usually had no problem memorizing spells before she cast but the almost electrical surge of power and lust flowing through her, making her entire body ache and throb, was making it hard to think . . . hard to remember.
“My sex shall you part with lips and tongue, to worship at the altar of my female energy,” she said. Wait—was that in the spell? The words didn’t sound quite right but they came out anyway and the ritual went on. Dipping in the oil again, she reached between her legs.
She’d only meant to draw two short lines on the outer lips of her sex but somehow she found herself parting them instead. As if by their own accord, her fingers found the sensitive button of her clit and began to circle, drawing slippery lines of pleasure around and around the little pink pearl until she was gasping with need—shaking so hard with desire she could barely stand. And yet, when she opened her mouth to pant, even more words poured out.
“My clit shall you lap to bring pleasure to us both,” she heard herself saying. “And my cunt shall you fill with your cock, thrusting deep to seed my womb with your essence.”
Wait . . . what? Jo blinked, wondering what was going on. It was almost as though someone else was speaking through her. And the power continued to grow along with her pleasure—it was threatening to overload her completely.
She tried to stop touching herself and found she couldn’t—her fingers were busy between her legs, stroking around and around her sensitive clit, building her pleasure as Reese watched, his eyes hungry with lust.
How many times had she seen that look of lust in a male’s eyes? How many times had it frightened and repelled her—made her want to run far away and never look back. But now, seeing the need and desire on Reese’s strong features, Jo felt herself drawn to him, drawn to this strange man she hadn’t even known for twenty-four hours yet.
Your mate, whispered a little voice in her head. He’s your mate. You’re meant to be together . . . you need him in you, filling you, breeding you . . . now.
No! With a violent effort, Jo pushed the thought away. She wasn’t sure what was happening but it wasn’t right. It was as though some outside power had flooded her and taken control of the rite she was performing. If she didn’t get back in the driver’s seat now, who knew what might happen . . . what it might make her do?
Have to finish this fast! she told herself.
She was still facing Reese, the two of them standing on either side of the circle drawn with salt—her on the inside and him just outside it—as she stroked herself. With an intense effort, she pulled her fingers away and put down the bottle of chrism oil. Picking up the chalice, she took a sip of the herbed wine and said, “So mote it be.”
They were the words of completion—the spell was now bound and it was time to say the incantation of reversal. But as the last syllable broke from Jo’s lips, the power burst outward, a hundred, no, a thousand times stronger than she had ever felt it before. It engulfed her and then she felt something at her back—a hot wind like a gust from the desert pushing against her like a huge, invisible hand.
Jo gave a cry as the chalice fell from her hand and the herbed wine landed on the ground, spilling across the line of sea salt that formed the sacred enclosure, breaking the circle.
She was pushed outward—pushed out of the circle of protection and light—and straight into Reese’s arms.
He caught her, a surprised look on his face and then the power of the spell overwhelmed them both.
* * *
Reese suddenly found himself with an armful of naked, beautiful witch who was kissing him eagerly and tearing at his clothes and he didn’t know what to do.
Oh, he knew what he wanted to do—he wanted to claim her, breed her—mark her as his own. His Fox howled for it and his cock throbbed like a second heartbeat between his thighs with the desire to make her his.
All through the spell he’d felt a strange sense of power growing and flowing through both of them. It tingled through his veins like static electricity, raising the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck and making his shaft painfully hard.
Jo had looked beautiful in the light of the setting sun—its final dying rays turning her hair into a fiery red corona around her face and gilding her slender, naked body with flame. As she went on, Reese could feel not only his own desire rising, but also hers—and her Juvie scent intensified until it was all he could do to stop himself from crossing the circle and grabbing her.
By the time the ceremony ended abruptly and she fell into his arms, her scent was calling to him so strongly Reese could barely think straight. And having her kissing him and pressing her naked body against his certainly didn’t help.
“Now! I want you now!” Jo gasped, tangling her fingers in his hair and kissing him savagely. Reese wrapped his arms around her and returned the kiss, even though a small voice at the back of his head was telling him he shouldn’t, that this was wrong somehow. The little witch’s mouth was sweet and wild, like the herbed wine she’d been sipping and when she slipped her tongue between his lips, Reese welcomed her eagerly—she tasted like desire.
Suddenly Jo broke the kiss, tearing her mouth from his and pulling his head downward. Eagerly, she thrust the hard, pink point of her nipple between his lips.
“Suck me!” she demanded, her voice breathless with lust. “Take me in your mouth—taste me!”
Reese didn’t have to be told twice. Eagerly, he pulled her pink bud into his mouth, laving the tight point with his tongue, sucking hard to take as much of her breast as he could between his lips.
Jo keened—a high, animal sound—the sound of a vixen in heat, begging to be bred, Reese thought. She pressed her chest forward, giving him more, offering herself completely. Then she grabbed his right hand. Taking it in both of hers, she pressed it down between her legs.
“Touch me,” she breathed, her eyes wide and wild as two amber moons in her face. “Stroke me! I need your fingers inside me, please.”
Hardly knowing what he was doing, Reese cupped her warm, soft pussy in his palm. She was so wet and slick her outer lips seemed to open of their own accord, eagerly accepting his seeking fingers.
He stroked her slippery core, his fingertips finding the hard little bud of her clit and circling around and around as he continued to suck first one nipple, then the other.
Jo keened again and buried both hands in his hair, dragging him forward, spreading her thighs to open herself for him completely.
“Inside me!” she begged. “Please, Reese—inside me!”
Obligingly, he slipped two thick fingers down to her entrance and pressed up hard and deep, filling her as well as he could. Jo threw back her head and moaned, rolling her hips to thrust against his invading digits.
Her pussy was wet and hot and tight and he longed to feel it wrapped around his cock instead of his fingers. This was where the maddening Juvie scent was coming from, Reese thought—the scent that was clouding his mind, making him want her so badly he couldn’t think of anything else.
“Take me—fuck me!” Jo was begging now. She pulled away from him and dropped to all fours in the soft grass. Spreading her thighs, she looked back at him, her face a mask of need. “Now!” she begged. “I need you in me now!”
Reese was already fumbling with his belt when a little voice spoke up in the back of his head. She said she doesn’t want this—the whole spell was supposed to keep this exact thing from happening—was supposed to keep you from touching her sexually.
The hell with that though—right? Here she was begging for it—not only with her mouth but with her whole body! Her thighs were spread, her pussy wet and glistening with need. Her scent was calling to him, making him crazy. He had to fill her—fuck her—breed her.
Still the little voice wouldn’t shut up. She doesn’t want this, Reese. Her hormones might want it and that crazy spell she cast probably has something to do with it too but her mind—her rational mind—doesn’t want this. She fears it. She fears you and she’s going to hate you if you do this.
God, he wished he could ignore that voice. The little witch was right there in front of him, so warm and willing and wet and open and every Shifter instinct in his body was shouting at him to take her, to make her his. His Fox was impatient with him.
Why don’t you do it? Make her ours! She belongs to us!
But the little voice inside was getting louder—more insistent. She’ll hate you. You’ll lose her forever! it warned.
Deep down, Reese knew it was right. Jo w
as in the grip of . . . something—either Juvie lust or the spell she’d woven or maybe a combination of the two. But though she smelled hot, Reese didn’t smell the breeding heat on her. It wasn’t a fuck or die situation—not yet. Although when the moon got full it probably would be. But for now, while Lady Moon was still new, he had no business doing this.
Though it was by far the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life, Reese took a step back from her open, inviting body . . . then another.
“No,” he said and his voice came out sounding hoarse and ragged. “No, we . . . we shouldn’t be doing this. You don’t want this, darlin’.”
“What?” She looked up at him, her lovely eyes clouded and confused. Her flame-red hair was a tangle around her face and her naked body looked pale and defenseless, almost glowing in the darkness now that the sun had finally set.
“I said you don’t want this,” Reese repeated, more firmly. “Your whole reason for casting that damn spell in the first place was to keep this from happening.”
“I . . . I don’t . . .” His words seemed to bring Jo back to reality somehow. She passed a hand over her face and looked around. Suddenly she seemed to realize what was happening. “Goddess—look at me! What’s wrong with me?” she gasped.
She looked so upset that Reese wanted to go to her and comfort her—or at least to offer her a hand up. But he couldn’t trust himself—couldn’t tell what he might do if he let himself get too close. So he held his ground and said nothing.
“I can’t stay here now.” Jo jumped up and grabbed the blue button down shirt she’d shed earlier. Wrapping it around herself hastily, she grabbed her pack from the porch and began shoving things into it. The candles, the chalice, the strange crystal bottle of red oil—she grabbed it all and pulled the long, black and silver knife she’d called an athame out to grip in one hand. Then she rushed for the trees that formed the border of the backyard.
Reese, who had felt frozen in place with indecision and lust overwhelming him, suddenly came to life.
Don’t let her leave! his Fox begged.
Stone Cold Fox Page 7