The coin heated in my fist, spreading warmth along my fingers and into my wrist. The mark of Othala glowed spectral silver in the muted light of the cabin, and the lines thrummed against my skin as if the mark were alive. I opened my hand, letting the chain drape around my fingers and the coin swing to touch the mark of Othala. When the talisman brushed against the silvery lines, heat bloomed from my skin, flowing into the cabin, infusing the air. I smelled cinnamon and looked up to see Logan in the doorway, chalk in one hand, incense burner with a lit stick of incense in the other.
Wordlessly, we feasted upon each other’s essence. We stared into each other’s eyes, desire blooming between us.
“You had the sky and sea last night. I want plants and candles.”
Logan set the chalk and incense burner on the dresser and left the room, presumably to fulfill my requests. I draped the chain over my head and the talisman settled between my breasts, emitting a glow of heat against my skin. I stripped off my clothes and pulled the curtains across the porthole.
Logan returned with two small rosebushes, one with red blooms, the other pink, and tea lights. He saw me naked and said, “No fair starting without me.” He set down everything on the dresser and stripped.
While he shucked his trousers, I placed the roses on both nightstands with tea lights beside them.
“The circle has to start on the wall and down around the nightstands,” I said after studying the cabin for a moment.
“Start with earth at the top, end with fire at the base of the circle.” Logan tossed me the pink chalk, and I climbed onto the right side of the bed, clutching the chalk in my right hand – the one marked by Othala.
“A flower grows from the earth,” I said, reaching up to draw the first part of the circle on the bulkhead behind the bed. I continued the circle down the bulkhead to the deck, including the nightstand within, and along to where Logan knelt before the bed. “The sun coaxes the flower into bloom.”
Logan thought a moment before continuing. “The wind scatters the petals.” He traced the chalk around the nightstand and up the bulkhead, joining his red line to my pink one. “The rain renews the plant so it can bloom again.”
He lay down on the mattress, pillowing his head under his arms. I couldn’t help staring at his erection, which grew bigger when he noticed me looking.
The scent of cinnamon mixed with roses filled my senses as I crawled onto the bed. Logan took his cock in one hand, stroking himself, and my heart stuttered. The lusty butterflies returned to my stomach, flapping their passion-drenched wings with a vengeance.
“Straddle me, but backward,” Logan suggested. “I want to taste you first, and I want you to taste me.”
Drawing in my breath, I did as he told me. He took me by the hips and drew me up so he could lick my already wet slit. I moaned deep in my throat, wriggling against his face, reveling in the rough scrape of his beard stubble against my spread thighs.
His cock pointed straight up, a clear drop of moisture on the tip. Tentatively, I touched my tongue to it, and he jerked beneath me, but I could tell he liked what I was doing by the groan that escaped him.
I drew my tongue down, then back up his shaft, as he circled my clit with his tongue. Unbearable tension consumed me, twisting me up as if I were caught in a sticky web of desire.
When I took him in my mouth, Logan gasped and his fingers dug into my hips. He tasted of earthy salt, and the press of the head of his cock against the back of my throat produced a visceral spasm of need deep within me.
He sucked hard on me, and my cry was muffled by his bulging shaft. Passion blossomed within me, growing bigger and brighter until I was writhing against him.
I crawled down his body so I could turn and see his face when I took his cock in my mouth again. My pussy throbbed with need. I craved him inside me so hard, but I wanted to taste him more.
I circled my fingers around the bottom of his shaft and squeezed. Judging by the way he moaned, he loved it. I took him deep in my mouth. His cock was hard as stone. Bobbing my head, I sucked.
Heat swamped the room, painting us both with a glistening sheen of sweat. I sucked harder, squeezing as I did. A guttural groan burst from Logan’s mouth.
“Earth witch!” He gasped. “I’m going to come. Please. Want. To be inside. You.”
The air seemed to shimmer around us as I moved up his body, positioning myself above his straining cock. He helped guide himself inside me, and when I lowered myself, taking him fully within me, we both cried out.
He held me by the hips as I braced my palms on above his shoulders. My knees dug into the mattress as I slid up and down his hot cock.
Crackling energy built up between us. The talisman bounced against my chest with every hard thrust, heating up higher and hotter until it sizzled against the perspiration on my skin. Any pain I associated with the heat registered more as pleasure.
A deep-rooted need branched through my body, igniting like a wildfire.
“Logan.” I lowered my mouth to his for a frantic, head-spinning kiss. He yelped when the talisman touched his chest, and it left a red imprint against his skin.
“Damn, that’s hot,” he said between kisses. I reached down and shifted the chain so the talisman hung down my back. When it touched my flesh, it crackled and sizzled, but the pleasure that zapped down my spine far overrode any pain.
“I love you,” I whispered into his ear, rapidly losing the ability to think coherently. “I love you so much.”
“Demetria!” My name on his lips was more of a groan than a fully formed word.
The tension building in my body abruptly gave way, crumbling my soul straight down to the foundation. Logan came with me, crying out my name again with such ragged desperation, I clung to him to keep from shattering apart.
I collapsed on top of him, breathing hard. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly.
“Love you, earth witch,” he whispered, combing his fingers through my hair.
We rested blissfully for a while as the boat bobbed on the waves and the scent of cinnamon gradually dissipated.
“Are you burned?” I remembered the talisman making a red mark on his chest and sat up so I could look at him. Sure enough, a small, red circle marred his skin.
“It still hurts,” he confessed.
“Why did it do that? It didn’t do that when you wore it last night.”
“Because I’m a sea witch. Fire’s your thing. Water’s mine. Didn’t you notice the talisman dripping water onto you?”
I laughed. “I thought that was sweat.”
He ruffled my hair. “Some of it was.”
I tried to get off the bed, but he held me back.
“Where are you going?”
“I want to get dressed and finish scrubbing the deck before it gets too dark to see.” I squeezed his hand, and pushed it gently aside. This time he didn’t grab me back, but he sighed loudly.
“I also want to make sure the Mary-Angela isn’t anywhere out there. I get nervous when both of us are below deck. I think I’ll sleep on deck tonight.” I quickly pulled on my shorts and reached for my tank top.
“If you’re sleeping on deck, so am I.” Logan swung out of bed and casually broke the circle to retrieve his clothes. “In fact, we can take turns on watch if that’ll make you feel any safer.”
“It would.” I paused to brush his lips with mine before I darted into the galley/sitting room. Somehow it was already twilight. Had we really spent the better part of the afternoon making love?
Tingles of remembered pleasure shivered down my spine. I grinned. Ritual magic was rapidly becoming one of my favorite things.
Chapter 18
Pink streaked the pre-dawn sky heralding the sun. I sat on a cushioned bench sipping hot coffee to keep awake while Logan slumbered a few feet away. He’d taken first watch, which had left me the opportunity to observe the dawn.
In the distance, Galveteen stretched across the horizon, mostly blotted out by storm clouds
and fog. We were too far away for me to discern rain, but I knew it was pouring on every building and beach on the island. Could Mother hear it from prison or had the Regent placed her in one of the underground cells? That sounded like something horrible he would do.
And Logan’s sister, Chelsea. Was she crying in the dark right this moment, wondering what she’d done wrong to deserve to be locked up? Could she comprehend she was a pawn in the Regent’s dreadful game? Perhaps she did, and now hated her older brother for her predicament.
I took another sip and grimaced. Cold as my thoughts. A fresh pot might do my sour outlook some good. After glancing around to make sure the Mary-Angela didn’t lurk somewhere off the stern or bow, I retreated down the ladder to the galley.
I tossed the dregs of the previous pot of coffee away and prepared another as the light outside the porthole slowly brightened.
Clutching a fresh mug, I climbed the ladder and resumed my previous lookout position. Logan still hadn’t stirred beneath the starry comforter. The sun streaked across the horizon changing night to day in an instant too quick to follow. I sipped coffee and wandered to the bow to check the plants. We’d lost only four to the ravagers. I’d saved several with earth magic, and now a day later, they stretched green leaves toward the sun, drinking in the light. The pole beans looked ripe. I’d have to remember to pick them, and we could have them with dinner tonight.
I stood by the railing, gripping it with one hand while I finished my coffee. When Logan wrapped his arms around me from behind and hugged me close against his chest, I shut my eyes to savor the press of his body against mine.
“What are you thinking about, Dem?” He brushed a kiss across the top of my head as the wind blew salty air into my face.
“Who wears the talisman today?” It wasn’t exactly what I was thinking about, but I didn’t want to depress Logan by making him think about Chelsea and Mother rotting away in some underground prison. He worked so hard to make everything good for me, the least I could do was try to reciprocate.
He grinned into my hair. “Both of us. Whether you start or finish depends on how much you like it on top.” He lifted me up and rocked me from side to side making me giggle. “And judging from the sounds you were making yesterday, I think you like it on top a lot.”
“Stop. You were making sounds, too.”
“I like you a lot on top,” he said.
“I want to wear it first. You wear it last,” I decided. “I’ll start out on top.”
“Sounds good to me.” Logan turned me around so he could kiss me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and opened my mouth to his. He kissed me until my knees went weak. The Sea Cursed hit a wave and dipped, throwing us both off balance. I staggered into the railing, Logan’s body crushed against mine.
I laughed, filled with an unaccountable happiness I knew I shouldn’t allow myself to feel because there was still so much to do before Galveteen was safe.
“Any of that coffee left?” Logan pulled me away from the railing.
“Below deck,” I said. “Want some breakfast? I could make eggs.”
“What I really want is you,” he said, and the simple declaration made with such sincerity stole my breath and ability to think clearly.
“Were we destined to fall in love?” I asked, tracing the outline of his lips with my finger. “Does every generation of witches marked by Othala fall for each other?”
“How would I know?” Logan backed me against the railing, pressing his erection into my belly. “Nobody ever sees those witches again after the spell is reuttered.”
“I like to think they do.” My voice faltered when Logan thrust into me, sending a surge of dampness between my legs. “Imagine being stuck on a boat for the rest of your life with someone you can’t stand.”
“Not going to happen to us, is it?” Logan moved his hand beneath my shirt and up to squeeze one of my breasts. I gasped and spread my legs a little. That made him suck in his breath. “Why are you so concerned about witches who are dead?”
“The ones from fifty years ago might not be dead. They could still be floating out to sea somewhere. Old, but maybe not dead,” I whispered, reaching one hand up to cup his face.
“Dem.” Logan breathed my name before he kissed me. “Why torture yourself thinking about this?”
“Because we’re going to have to spend our lives on this boat, and I don’t know if I want to.” Tears clogged my throat making it impossible to breathe.
Logan pulled me into his arms, his embrace turning from passion to comfort. He rocked me.
“You want to risk going back?”
“I don’t know what I want. I think I just want to get this damn spell reuttered and Galveteen safe so I don’t have to feel guilty for loving you.”
Logan took my face between his palms. “Is that what this is all about? That you feel ashamed for being happy when everyone’s lives are at stake?”
“When Mother’s in prison. And Chelsea.” I gulped, tasting hot tears. “Father’s dead. And all I can think about is your mouth on mine and you inside me. And the way you make me feel when you smile. The way you smell of salt water and sunshine. I can’t, Logan. I can’t handle this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks in a hot rush. Logan made a small sound of protest deep in his throat.
“What if it’s all part of the spell? What if after we cast it, we look at each other and we’re strangers. And we don’t really like each other, let alone love? And we’re stuck out here forever.” I buried my face in his shoulder, sobs shaking me until I thought I’d burst apart.
“Is that what you think is going to happen? Are you really afraid of that? Or is that your guilt talking?”
I clutched at Logan’s shoulders, never wanting him to let me go, but knowing we couldn’t stand here forever.
“I’ll tell you something, earth witch. I love you. And it’s not part of some damned spell. Love doesn’t work like that. The best magic can do is incite lust. And that’s not what this is between us!” Logan shook me, his eyes ablaze with a concentrated anger that churned my stomach. I didn’t want him mad at me. I didn’t know what on Othala I wanted.
“It’s not what it is,” he repeated, only this time he sounded broken, as if I’d hurt him. Perhaps I had.
“Ever been in love before, Logan?”
“No.” He shook his head, eyes bleak.
I bit my lip. I was the first woman he’d ever loved? “Me either.”
He took a deep breath and held it for a long moment before exhaling. “I’m going to get some coffee. I’m not hungry, so don’t make me any eggs.”
He turned and walked away, head down.
I kicked the side of the boat and pain exploded in my toes. Pain I damn well deserved.
***
I sprawled across the bed in the cabin poring over the spell scroll in an attempt to truly prepare myself for what we had to do. So many things to keep in mind intimidated me. We had to draw down magical power and load it into two lightning bolts timed to hit fifty years from now. Logan was in charge of the lightning. My job was accessing the extra magic. The scroll did not give me any sort of guidance on how to visualize this magic. Was it in a vast pool, like water? Stacked like bricks in some cosmic vault? Maybe crackling fire – an ever-burning bonfire. That made sense. Fire to lightning, perhaps I would go with that.
Logan would cast the spell that would start the bad weather fifty years from now. I was supposed to offer him my strength if he needed it. Whatever that meant. I pounded a fist against the mattress. Infuriating! For every two things the scroll spelled out, it left three things off or so vague as to be useless to someone like me who had no magical background. I knew Logan would explain, but to do that he had to speak to me, and he’d managed to avoid me all day since I’d burst into tears on the bow.
“Hey. Put that away and throw on your bathing suit.” Logan leaned around the door, all tan and gorgeous, his eyes so bright they glowed like crystal.
I held my breath for a moment to k
eep myself from blurting something stupid like asking him if he were mad at me. Would he be smiling that way if he were? Maybe he’d forgotten everything. Or decided to just put up with me and make the best of it because there was nothing else to do. Except brood, like me, Othala curse it.
“Okay,” I said.
He flashed me a grin and ducked back out.
“Hey!” I called. “Aren’t you going to put on your suit?”
“No self-respecting sea witch wears a bathing suit. We leave that to the stuffy earth witches.” Logan smirked before heading back on deck. Damn him. Was that a challenge? Did he think I was going to swim in the ocean without any sort of clothing barrier? What if a fish swam between my legs or seaweed caught between my breasts? I shuddered. Othala, maybe he had a point calling earth witches stuffy.
So be it. I still intended to wear a suit.
Searching through my drawers yielded me two options – a skimpy chartreuse two-piece and a full-piece suit – only it was black. And I never wore black. Only problem was, I didn’t wear bikinis either.
“Othala curse it!” I shouted flinging them both across the cabin.
“Is there a problem?” Logan’s voice floated down from the wheelhouse where apparently he was manually sailing the boat. Or perhaps reinforcing his circle spell.
“Be right up!” I sang in a false-cheerful voice that I’m sure didn’t fool him.
Grimacing, I snatched the bikini bottoms. I threw them and the top on the bed before shucking my clothes. In the act of tossing my tank top away, a brilliant idea struck.
“Are you really going to wear a shirt over your suit?” Logan rolled his eyes when he saw me stroll on deck.
Sea Cursed: An Adult Dystopian Paranormal Romance: Sector 13 (The Othala Witch Collection) Page 20