A Spell for Death: Rosewilde Academy of Magical Arts

by B. C. Palmer

  A shiver ran through me. From the way he looked at me, and the barely contained grin on Isaac’s face, I had some idea of what he meant. My instinct was to pull back, demure, say I could handle it on my own as if I didn’t know what he was talking about. He’d leave it at that if I did.

  And I’d be left continuing to fantasize in private.

  It took every ounce of willpower to make myself focus on what I wanted, instead of what I thought was prudent. I was already tangled up with them, after all—how much more complicated did I want that to be? On the other hand, I was already tangled up with them. These feelings weren’t going to go away any time soon. And besides, I deserved a little fun after everything I’d been through the last few months.

  I could almost hear the voice of mini-Serena on my shoulder, complete with horns and a little tail, urging me to say yes.

  I was never going to hear the end of it from her.

  “I… think I’d like that,” I said, my cheeks burning. “But—I really do have to study, too.”

  Lucas grinned and banished the sound-dampening spell with a gesture and a word. He stood, still holding my hand, and tilted his head toward the front of the library. “Well, then. Let’s go hit the books.”

  Amelia

  The moment we stepped through the door to their dorm, Lucas was on me—plundering my mouth with his kisses, his hands holding my hips tightly. Isaac grabbed my bookbag, and I heard it plunk somewhere loudly; I was too busy trying to give up the act of breathing to care.

  Lucas kissed like a demon; his kiss was like an obscenity as he licked into me, dark promises made in the way he caught my lower lip between his teeth and tugged. He backed me up until I was pressed against the door, anchoring me there with his hips and his very evident arousal.

  “Wait,” I gasped out, breaking away from Lucas’s kiss reluctantly.

  “Hmmm,” Lucas asked against my neck. He trailed burning hot kisses down my neck, lavishing my skin, and I knew without a doubt he was leaving marks. Arousal twisted inside me at that image, being marked by him for all to see.

  “Wards,” I gasped out, and looked for Isaac. The man was slowly unbuttoning his white shirt, watching Lucas set me on fire. I shuddered and realized why they liked an audience, having Isaac there watching me… it made everything so much more intense. But it wasn’t something I wanted other people to see—at least, not everyone. There was one person, one man, I wanted to be curious enough to look—but I doubted Hunter would. Like he had told me, he was too busy for anything like this.

  Isaac arched a smooth eyebrow, and I wanted to glare to make my point but Lucas’s lips found my earlobe and my eyes fell shut as pleasure arced from where he touched me right to my pussy. If I hadn’t felt what Isaac had done to me before, I’d have sworn they were using magic. Fuck, maybe Lucas’s kisses were magic. It would definitely explain a lot.

  I heard Isaac speak the words needed to create a ward, nothing nearly as complicated as Hunter had set up, but it was enough for me to relax.

  “I’ve been dying inside to know what you taste like,” Lucas whispered as he ground his hardness into me. He braced one hand on either side of my shoulders, caging me between him and the door as he dragged his nose along the slope of my neck. “After Isaac had you, and you left us, I licked every drop of you from his lips. But it wasn’t enough.”

  “Fuck,” I muttered and tossed my head back, my head hitting the door hard enough that I winced.

  “That is the goal.”

  I opened my eyes to see Isaac smirking at me, his shirt hanging open as he palmed his cock through his pants. He was sitting in the same chair as before, but for now it seemed he was an eager audience member instead of active participant.

  Lucas dropped his hands to my breasts, cupping them through my bra and I arched into his touch, my eyes never leaving Isaac’s. There was definitely something to this audience thing. I wanted to mewl when Lucas moved his hands away, but he was slowly unbuttoning my shirt, his hands hot against my bare shoulders as he pushed it down my arms.

  I nearly felt shy, but then mini-Serena, horns and all, whispered in my ear: Own it, bitch. So that’s what I decided to do. I’d had sex before; I knew what parts went where. I wanted both of these men, and they clearly wanted me. We were all consenting adults, so why not enjoy this to my fullest?

  I reached back and unhooked the clasp of my bra, pulling the garment off and tossing it to the side before guiding Lucas’s hands back to my breasts.

  “Eager, aren’t we?” he murmured before taking one of my nipples between his lips.

  “Ah—I”—I swallowed back a sound of pleasure—“am just an excellent student. Always been top of my class.”

  Lucas took his time, laving at my nipple before moving his attention to the other and drawing out my pleasure. Frankly, he teased me enough I wanted to shove him to his knees and tell him to get on with it. It seemed as though he understood my needs and his mouth moved lower over my stomach.

  He dragged his hands up my thighs and under my skirt before sliding my panties down.

  “Thanks for not vanishing this pair,” I said breathlessly, and he looked up at me with a cheeky grin.

  “You could just stop wearing them,” Isaac suggested, my eyes flying back to his across the dorm room. “Then we wouldn’t have to work around them.”

  “You should listen to Isaac,” Lucas said as he lifted my skirt, tucking the hem into the waistband. He planted kisses against my thighs, and I shifted, spreading my legs further apart for him. “It would be a sweet torture, having you in the library, totally naked under this skirt. Maybe we could convince you to sit on our laps, sneak our hands up your skirt and see how many times we can make you come before you beg us to let you ride us.”

  Holy shit, it was as if he were an illusionist and casting the image into my mind. Sitting on Lucas’s lap, his hands up my skirt, as Isaac quizzed me over elemental configurations.

  Lucas guided my left leg over his shoulder and I pressed my back into the door to brace myself, my hand stroking through the man’s hair. The first stroke of Lucas’s tongue against my pussy caused a sigh to slip from my lips as my eyes closed, savoring the feeling. His technique was different than Isaac’s. Where he had been demanding, Lucas was slower, as if he were savoring the experience just as much as I was.

  “Amy,” Isaac’s voice was thick with want and I felt my body responding to him. I opened my eyes and my mouth went dry at the sight before me.

  Isaac sat, mere feet from where Lucas licked and sucked at my pussy, stroking his cock languidly as he watched us. His cheeks, normally fair in color, were tinged pink from arousal. He stroked slowly upwards, rubbing his thumb over his glans, before slowly twisting his hand down back toward his base. He met my eyes, a lascivious challenge in them, and I realized he was putting on a show.

  I bit my lower lip between my teeth and brought my free hand to my breasts, returning the challenge. I teased my nipples, playing with myself as Lucas fucked me with his tongue before moving to suck on my clit. His hands held my ass, grinding my pussy against his face, tasting every part of me.

  I felt him slide two fingers into me, stroking me in time with his licks. His fingers brushed against the spot I’d only found a few times myself, causing me to groan and bear down against him. Over and over his fingers fluttered against that spot, Isaac stroking himself and watching me chase my orgasm, until finally I felt myself break. I bucked against Lucas’s demanding mouth, bending over with the force of my pleasure as the aftershocks made my knees weak.

  His touch turned gentle and he eased his fingers out of me. Once more he looked up at me from his knees, this time his lips covered with my wetness, and raised an eyebrow. “So should we move to the books now or…”

  “Or.” I nodded, catching my breath. “Definitely or. And you’re way too dressed for this.” I looked up at Isaac. “Both of you.”

  “So demanding,” Isaac said sarcastically, but he stood and divested himself of his c
lothing just as Lucas stripped down.

  I shimmied off my skirt and toed off my shoes before crawling up onto the same bed I’d had my last so-called study session with them. Kneeling, unashamed of my nudity, I admired them. They were so similar but different.

  Lucas was toned, giving the impression of the type of guy who’d hit the gym regularly but ate what he wanted. Isaac was fit, but nowhere near as toned. His was the fitness that came from working, from carrying cauldrons and storage boxes, heavy stacks of books from either end of campus. They were both stunningly beautiful in their own way, even if it made me feel like a romantic poet to think that.

  I tilted my head and I felt a smirk forming. “So, I’ve seen Isaac get you off, Lucas, and now Isaac has seen you get me off. So maybe it’s Lucas’s turn, Isaac?” I patted the bed beside me, in a way I hoped was inviting and seductive and in no way resembled a trained walrus at the Bronx Zoo.

  Walrus imitation or not, Isaac sat where I indicated, leaning against the headboard and spreading his knees so I could move between them. He laced his fingers behind his head in open invitation.

  Nerves struck me, but I pushed past them and wrapped my hand around Isaac’s cock, slowly stroking upwards. His pouty lips fell open as a breath escaped him, and it gave me a sudden burst of confidence. With a, hopefully, sultry look at Lucas, I turned back to Isaac and trailed my lips over the head of his cock.

  Isaac wasn’t a quiet receiver of pleasure, it turned out, as I took him in my mouth. Each stroke of my tongue, each press of my lips, each purposeful tease of my teeth had Isaac groaning, biting out curse words as he struggled not to thrust up into my mouth.

  I felt the bed dip behind me and I let Isaac’s cock fall from my mouth as I felt Lucas’s hand on my lower back, the head of his cock stroking through my sensitive pussy.

  A thought occurred and I sat upright, though I still kept one hand stroking Isaac.

  “Condom?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at Lucas. He frowned as if confused. But before I could go on a lecture about sexual health, he had a look of comprehension.

  “How the fuck has Serena not shown you the contraceptive spells?” Lucas muttered, but it was less at me and more at the woman in question.

  I shrugged one shoulder and looked at Isaac, his eyes blown wide with desire as I kept teasing him. “She told me one version vibrated?”

  “Yeah, that one’s good,” Isaac breathed out. “We should try it later. And the one that makes cocks nearly cold. That one’s great in a hot shower.”

  “Trust me?” Lucas asked and I nodded. He made a simple gesture with his hand and spoke a word that I swore I heard in yoga class once. “There. Basics, the same effect as if I were wearing a condom you could buy in the store.”

  “Awesome.” I turned fully back toward Isaac and wiggled my hips at Lucas with a grin. I took Isaac in my mouth just as I felt Lucas press slowly into me, hissing and holding my hips tightly.

  Three-ways, I decided then and there, were fucking awesome, pun totally intended.

  “Fuck, I forgot what this was like.” Lucas’s voice sounded wrecked, and Isaac only moaned in response.

  I braced my hands on either side of Isaac’s hips, touching him gently until he got the message and began to thrust gently up into my mouth. Lucas mirrored his thrusts, moving me enough that I took Isaac deeper into my mouth. A small part of me made a note to ask Serena about spells that would help me deepthroat without gagging, even though it seemed Isaac could sense my limits and he never pushed deep enough to trigger that reflex.

  One of Isaac’s hands reached for my breast, pinching and pulling at my nipples and causing bolts of pleasure racing through me. Then, as if they had planned it, Lucas’s fingers found my clit, circling it as he thrust into me. I was so close, my body shaking as they filled me, playing my body as if we’d been lovers for years instead of only once before, when I realized their other hands were on my back, their fingers interlaced as they fucked me, joining us all together.

  That connection, that intimacy, launched me over the edge and into a second orgasm. Only a few thrusts later, they both followed me—Isaac spilling himself in my mouth and Lucas thrusting forward, grinding himself against me as he came.

  I swallowed down the salty evidence of Isaac’s pleasure even as he pulled me up against him, Lucas’s cock sliding out of me, to kiss me and chase his taste on my tongue. Lucas muttered a spell behind us, before pressing himself against my back, kissing my shoulder before nosing at Isaac.

  He pulled away from me and I pillowed my face against his chest as the two of them shared a lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of years of experience together, and surprisingly I didn’t feel jealous at all. Instead, I felt excited because I wanted to get to the point where we all had that kiss with each other.

  I couldn’t stop smiling, and it was starting to make my face hurt.

  “Good study session?” Lucas asked, as he eased down beside me on the bed.

  Isaac ran his fingers languidly up and down my leg. I twitched a bit, my nerves still raw, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of swatting his hand away.

  “You’re decent tutors,” I murmured.

  Lucas gasped in mock outrage. “Is that some kind of challenge? Because I for one was holding back, and I’d gladly—”

  I shut him up with a kiss.

  Isaac reclined next to me, propped on his elbow, and when Lucas was properly speechless, I turned my head and smiled up at Isaac until he dipped his head down to kiss me, his lips soft and delicate, always so gentle compared to Lucas’s insistent, hungry mouth.

  “So,” I said. “About that help actually studying?”

  “That totally counts,” Isaac said. “Call it anatomy, physiology, a primer on sex magic.”

  “It was at least a little magical,” I admitted. I wiggled sideways until my body was more firmly pressed against Isaac’s and urged Lucas to press closer as well. It was warm between them, but not uncomfortably so at the moment. With the two of them to either side, I could almost imagine that nothing could get to me. Not my bruised confidence from being the student who needed catching up, not the list of losses I carried around with me, not even some apparition from the Abyss. Here, I was safe, and I realized that, for the first time in a long time, I felt a lot like myself.

  “You’re thoughtful,” Lucas observed. “Or is that the haze of two glorious orgasms in your eyes?”

  I rolled those eyes and nudged him with an elbow. “My god, Isaac was spot on with you.”

  “Hey,” Isaac protested, “traitor! Turncoat!”

  “What’s that about?” Lucas wondered, eyes narrowed at Isaac and then me. “You two have been talking about me behind my back?”

  I giggled as Isaac ribbed me. “You’ll only make it worse,” he said. “I promise.”

  “Now you’ve got to tell me,” Lucas insisted.

  “I think he said, just a little praise and your ego would never stop swelling,” I laughed, fending off Isaac’s fingers. “Clearly, he’s right.”

  “Oh,” Lucas said, grinning wide. He shrugged a shoulder. “Well, that’s certainly true. I’ve made Isaac speak in tongues. And made him explode a lamp, too.”

  Isaac groaned. “We were in high school,” he muttered. “It was three years ago. See what you’ve done? You’ll never hear the end of it.”

  We shared a chuckle, and a few more kisses, before finally the heat of three bodies got to be a bit much—and I was dry in the mouth and desperate for water. Lucas, for all his ego, offered to fetch some, and when he returned, I curled my legs under me and drank while they looked on, then passed the half-empty glass to Lucas, who drank and passed the remainder to Isaac.

  “I really do have to study,” I said. “And if you two wouldn’t mind, some actual help wouldn’t hurt.”

  “Anything you need, m’lady,” Isaac said.

  Lucas made a half bow, arm swinging out. “Your wish is our command.”

  He rolled off the bed, tossin
g a shirt toward me. As I pulled it on, I realized it was one of theirs and, even though it was totally cheesy, I tucked it closer around me. I didn’t bother with my skirt, and neither of them did more than pull on sweatpants with the Rosewilde crest on the thigh. Isaac handed me my nearly forgotten book bag, demanding a kiss before he relinquished it.

  I cracked open my thaumaturgy book with the two of them looking on, smiling like they were pleased with themselves. For some reason, the act of opening the book made me think of Hunter, and left me wondering if he’d ever seen them smile that way, or worn the expression himself. I thought of him alone, in his room, hunched over his books and papers. But he’d made himself clear enough. I shelved my worry for him for the moment and focused on the present. “So,” I muttered, “what do either of you know about ‘evocation and the intransitive property of elemental radiance’?”

  Amelia

  If ever I had thought my classes were difficult, attending daily lectures and practicums in summoning with Headmaster Sinclaire served to highlight how very easy I’d had it so far. He was an absolutely merciless instructor, for one thing, and for another the subject itself made thaumaturgy look like third-grade arithmetic.

  The magic circle he’d introduced me to was revealed to be a kind of template from which all other summoning circles could be derived. There were 537 lines in the diagram, and 108 characters around the circumference of the circle itself. The angles, intersections, and curls all had to be executed precisely, and each had a meaning, derived both from the symbolism of the interactions between lines, as well as mathematical formulae meant to coincide with the rotations of a subset of planes of existence that couldn’t be observed and so had to be calculated based on a mile-long list of observances in everything from the stars to chemical reactions at the site where a summoning was to take place.

  Magic, Professor Wardwell had said on the first day of class, can easily drive the weak mind to madness. He was definitely not speaking in hyperbole. I was not given to rage, but the first hundred times I failed in my calculations—which were only drills, much less actually magic—I wanted to scream at Sinclaire that what he was asking of me was patently impossible.