The Sorceress

by Allison Hobbs

  Rome held up the near empty bottle, offering Jen the last shot.

  Shaking her head, Jen declined. “The senator is going to be interviewing nannies for the next couple of days. After he finds someone suitable, I’m going to resign.”

  “Wise choice.” Rome stood. “I’m twisted. I gotta lie down. Come on upstairs. I won’t bother you.”

  “I’m not going upstairs with you.” She ran her eyes over his muscular frame and was tempted to give it up right there in the kitchen. On the floor. But she wasn’t intoxicated enough to give it up before their first official date. “Hey, you can’t go to bed. You have to take me home.”

  “I need a half-hour to sleep this liquor off. I promise to keep my hands to myself.” He held up his right hand as if making a solemn oath.

  Getting caught shirking her nanny duties was not the end of the world. Jen could deal with having to face an angry senator, but that ghost lady…whew! The prospects of having to deal with an evil spirit were more than she was equipped to handle.

  So, relieved that the naked woman was part of a terrorist plot and not an evil spirit, Jen was practically giddy as she trotted behind Rome up the stairs.

  Rome’s bedroom was very different from the other rooms in the house. His personal space was stunning but the word “sensual” described it best. The room was ultramodern and manly with natural tones.

  The leather headboard and chocolate suede bedding on the king-sized bed had a strong masculine appeal. Spellbinding tapestries accented the walls. These wall hangings depicted ferocious wild animals engaged in the chase and Jen wondered if this art was a reflection of Rome—agile, muscular, bold, and ferocious…in bed?

  Jen was very curious. And totally horny. An onslaught of decadent fantasies rushed through her mind. Rome’s bedroom had all the trappings to persuade the most levelheaded and prudent woman to strip out of her clothes and offer up a session of no-strings attached sex.

  Yawning, Rome obviously had other things in mind—like sleep. He held up an oversized white T-shirt. “You want to put this on?”

  Jen gave him a look, all the while thinking how badly she wanted to touch and be touched by him.

  “I’m not trying to get you naked or anything…though that would be nice.” He gave her a lopsided smile that was so cute… rugged and boyish at the same time. He rubbed his tired eyes and even that innocent gesture was a turn-on. She wanted to do really naughty things with this man.

  “I thought you might want to put this on so you don’t wrinkle your clothes.”

  “Okay. You only need a half-hour, right?” Jen said, raising a concerned brow and feigning reluctance as she accepted the shirt.

  “I need to chill for about thirty minutes. After a quick power nap, I’ll be straight and we can roll out.”

  Jen smiled to herself. She liked the off-duty Rome a lot more than the inquisitive cop she’d met on Forbidden Drive. Hot Cop was sexy, but he was even sexier out of uniform and in the relaxed environment of his home. She hadn’t realized until now that Rome’s speech pattern had changed from formal police lingo to casual, Philly talk.

  He was easygoing and had a great sense of humor. And the mere sound of his voice aroused her. She caught herself staring at the bulge inside his jeans, wishing he’d unzip and give her a peek. Everything about Rome was so perfect, she was certain that his dick was wonderful, too.

  She wanted to taste him, feel his dick, hard and urgent, entering her mouth. She wanted to feel him stretching her inner walls… She covered her mouth, muffling a moan. If he could read her mind, he’d think she was a terrible slut.

  Rome was nothing like those college boys she’d wasted her time with. He was a grown man and Jen wanted him. And not for one night, which would be the case if she gave up the goods without allowing him the opportunity to engage in the chase like the animals on his walls.

  “Bathroom’s down the hall. You can change in there.”

  Aw, Rome was a gentlemanly womanizer. Jen accepted the shirt and trekked down the hall to change. She located a bottle of mouthwash. She swished the liquid inside her mouth, getting rid of the smell of whiskey and giving her breath a fresh minty scent, in case she decided to give Rome a kiss. Nothing more. Just a kiss.

  She was no sexpot. Her frizzy hair refused to cooperate with the brush she quickly pulled through it. Rome’s T-shirt was long, but not long enough to completely cover her thunder thighs. She tugged on the bottom of the shirt one more time, trying to force it to stretch down a little further. The fabric stayed in place, revealing her extra-thick thighs, big hips, and big booty. As far as Jen was concerned, her boobs and flat tummy were her only saving grace.

  When she returned to the bedroom, Rome had thoughtfully dimmed the lights and she was grateful for that. But he couldn’t dim the heat of his gaze as it traveled from her face, her boobs, her thick thighs, and the swell of her ample hips. Forgetting her dissatisfaction with her body type, she met his gaze, revealing the desire that burned in her eyes as well.

  His jeans were tossed on a chair. Bare-chested, he relaxed on the bed, wearing only boxers. She pulled her eyes away from his broad shoulders and amazing chest but mistakenly settled her gaze on his thighs, which were roped with steely musculature. Her mouth watered. She swallowed a lump of desire and averted her gaze.

  “Hey, you look cute in that shirt,” he complimented, his voice cutting through the sexual tension that was thick inside the bedroom.

  Jen wanted to yank off the T-shirt and let it pool on the floor beside the bed, but she controlled her urges. Ignoring her over-active hormones, she sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded on her lap.

  Rome got under the covers and tugged at the fabric beneath her butt. “Lie down. Get under the covers. I’ll be a gentleman. I promise,” he said softly.

  Jen pretended to be reluctant, easing cautiously beneath the suede duvet and the sheets.

  “Half-hour,” he reassured her, tugging her arm gently until she was curled beneath the covers, her buttocks merging into the contour of his body. He draped an arm loosely over her. She could feel his manhood pulsing against her derriere, each beat tightening the knot of desire within her core.

  A slight brush of cotton fabric against her nipples made them flush and harden into small beads that pleaded for attention. Overly sensitive, her pearls yearned to be touched…pinched… suckled.

  But his fingers did not wander toward those dangerous, peaked regions. Instead of fondling her luscious breasts or soothing the hot spot between her legs, he stroked her wiry tendrils, his fingers concentrating on taming her wayward strands of red hair.

  “Your hair smells good,” he murmured and inhaled a full breath of her scent and continued smoothing down her wild mane.

  The air from his nostrils tickled the back of her neck, arousing and tormenting her to the point of wanting to scream. She forced her body to become stiff and rigid, not to ward off any potential advances, but to keep herself from twisting around, ripping off Rome’s boxers and molesting him.

  Jen bit the inside of her lip as she fought the building desire. Rome didn’t appear to be struggling the way she was; he seemed content with his gently pulsing dick and with the nearness of her. Then she felt the pounding of his heart as it thumped against her back, beckoning her to join him…to connect her body with his.

  She didn’t notice it happening. Didn’t feel her defenses breaking down. It seemed like the most natural thing when she finally relaxed and allowed her body to move, uncensored… unrestricted by rules of morality or even common decency.

  It was the most natural thing for her to turn toward him and press her feminine mound against his groin, moving rhythmically against his concrete manhood.

  Rome squeezed her hip, caressed her thigh. “Baby…You feel so good.”

  She couldn’t bear it. His low groan was so sensual…too sensual. Made her want to do things she knew she’d later regret.

  “I wanted you the first time—”

  She couldn’
t listen to sexy murmuring and be held accountable for her lustful actions. Desperately, her mouth covered his, silencing him with her minty kiss.

  He groaned and began groping at the shirt, urging her to take it off.

  Obliging, she pulled it over her head and tossed it to the floor.

  Rome watched with anticipation as her luscious breasts gently bounced and then settled. He reached out and touched one rosy nipple and then the other, feeling them grow hard under his heated touch.

  She hooked a finger beneath the elastic band around the V of his waist. “Your turn,” she purred.

  He quickly shed his boxers. Now all barriers between their burning fleshes were removed.

  She devoured his naked body with her eyes. His dick looked good at half-mast but when it became engorged and stood at full attention, it was a husky, good-looking dick and Jen wanted to cover it with her lips and bathe it with her tongue. But she restrained herself.

  She gave good head, she’d been told. But wasn’t sure if she should display all of her talents on the first night with Rome. Maybe she’d give him a sneak preview of her oral skills.

  Rome captured her lips; she opened her mouth for him, permitting his tongue to wander freely. At first he entangled his fingers in her wild hair, pulling handfuls until she cried out in pain and writhed in pleasure. He abandoned her hair, his hot hands scorching her skin as they traveled to her shoulders… squeezing, caressing and then sliding down and tenderly cradling her breasts.

  A primal sound rumbled in the back of his throat as he lowered his head and drew in a ripened nipple. His tongue lashing against her hardened flesh gave her surges of delicious sensation.

  “Rome,” she whispered, her voice filled with unmistakable pleasure.

  “What, baby?”

  “I want you.”

  “You got me, baby. It’s you and me, now,” he responded, his voice hoarse, his words emerging in broken chords.

  It was only sex talk. He didn’t mean what he was saying. A man like Rome could have any woman he wanted and he was what—about twenty-four or twenty-five? Too young to settle down in a committed relationship. Still, his words made her flush with joy. “I want to feel you inside me,” she clarified.

  She wished she could make their short time together memorable. She’d love to lick some honey, whipped cream, or chocolate syrup off of his beautiful body, but there was no time to raid his kitchen for naughty treats. She kissed his neck. He moaned.

  She sucked his small male nipples and licked her way down to his stomach. His dick thumped her cheek, impatiently. She broke her rule and feasted on his shaft, slurping, sucking…loving it.

  Then he maneuvered her around, palming Jen’s ass cheeks as he pressed her moist kitty against his ready lips. One hot tongue flick and Jen tensed; couldn’t concentrate on sucking. She relaxed her mouth briefly while she enjoyed the sensation of his warm tongue sliding between her labia, lapping up generous amounts of her sweetness.

  “Mmm,” she murmured. “Ah,” she moaned as his tongue moved up and toggled her clit.

  “You like that, baby?” His muffled voice brought Jen back to reality. They were in the “69” position and she was supposed to be giving as well as getting.

  Working her jaws again, she concluded that his dick was exceedingly delicious and didn’t require the sugary topping she’d wanted to drizzle up and down his thick shaft. Adding honey or chocolate syrup to something so sweet would give her a sugar high.

  She was still tipsy from the shots of Jack Daniels…adding a sugar rush could be a dangerous combination.

  “I like it a lot,” she finally answered after she’d had her fill of oral sex. “But I want something else.”

  “Is that right?”

  She didn’t answer. She mounted him.

  “Oh, it’s like that?” He smiled. “You’re taking charge?”

  “That’s exactly how it is,” she said breathily as she wrapped her hand around his length, which was bulged with thick veins.

  “Oh, so you’re just gon’ take what you want?” He faked a frown, but couldn’t maintain the expression as his shaft, eager for her warmth, began to vibrate in Jen’s hand.

  The frenetic energy of desire mounting made Jen shudder. “Uh-huh, I want it and I’m taking it,” she said, her voice husky with lust. She used the head of his manhood to separate her petals and guide him inside her moist and receptive place.

  Rome griped her shoulders and thrust upward, lodging himself deeply. Jen’s pussy was so hot and wet, it made sloshing sounds as he plunged in his immense thickness. He became still. Motionless.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” He flipped her over. Lay on top of her. The full frontal contact was electrifying. He kissed her as their hips rocked together, swiveled, gyrated in smooth rhythmic motions. He stopped again, looked down at her, staring at her face as if she might disappear if he blinked. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

  There was such intensity in his gaze, such tenderness in his tone, that she had to close her eyes and press her lips together to keep from blurting out, “I love you, Rome. Let’s get married. I want to have your babies.”

  Had she said what was in her heart, words she had no business speaking, she would have been perceived as talking crazy, speaking the type of gibberish of a woman coming out of a long, hard sex-drought. But this feeling they were sharing was the closest she’d ever come to feeling love.

  Love, marriage, and babies. Universal female urges that could not be denied. Or admitted. She’d have to keep those desires secret or risk chasing Rome away.

  So she let her body do the talking. Lying beneath him, she arched her back, meeting his impassioned plunges with her own ardent thrusts. Their body’s enflamed, the pace quickened. No longer careful and gentle, their bodies crashed together in a frenzy to satisfy their overwhelming and voracious hunger.

  Like the animals on his walls, Rome was wild and passionate. His male groan was primal in its sound. Jen clutched handfuls of the sheet as she felt the beginning of a gigantic climax… building and coursing through her. She gritted her teeth, trying to hold back the high-pitched cries of passion. But couldn’t.

  After reaching a screaming crescendo, Jen trembled uncontrollably. Rome drove deeper, speeding up his strokes, and working his way to salvation. Joining her, he liberated a growl as pleasure exploded.

  The goddess Tara appealed to the council, pleading on her sister’s behalf. “Eris is reformed,” she testified.

  Goddess Diana looked at Tara skeptically. “How do you know?” she inquired.

  Tara lowered her gaze, ashamed. “She’s been communicating with me.”

  “And you allowed her to penetrate your mind?”

  “She’s my sister. I couldn’t shut her out.”

  The council gave a collective sigh.

  “Tara, we are aware of your compassion. It is in your nature to feel the pain of others deeply. Too deeply, sometimes. And it is in your sister’s nature to be destructive. We put up with her wicked ways because your mother vetoed all our votes to dispatch Eris to the Dark Realm. Your mother, the goddess Inanna, has ascended now; she no longer sits at council and it is our decision to keep Eris contained with others of her ilk—the wretched and wicked with souls beyond redemption.”

  Diana drew in a breath; her eyelids fluttered in frustration. “We did not dispatch your sister to the Dark Realm. We sent her to earth to begin a new life and possibly redeem herself. But she continued her wicked ways. And even after her escape from the Dark Realm, she returned to earth over a hundred years later and still made mischief.

  “Because of Eris, our dear goddess Kali must slumber throughout eternity, unable to ascend to the highest place for honorable souls such as she.” Diana shuddered.

  “After all her crimes against mankind on earth and the sexual abuse she inflicted upon your dear winged attendant, I would expect you to join this goddess council in our decision to keep Eris trapped inside the Dark Realm, foreve
r!”

  Diana stood. “This meeting is adjourned,” she asserted.

  The members of the goddess council stood.

  Distraught, Tara returned to the pond, accompanied by Zeta, whose wings were folded down in sorrow. She draped an arm around Tara and wiped her tears.

  Finally, Tara stopped weeping. “Zeta, my lovely winged one. I need solitude. Please leave me.”

  Zeta raised her wings, enticingly, a signal that her phallus was readied. She pulled up her gossamer gown. Tara cast a glance at her attendant’s beautiful sex organ. It glimmered in the sunlight, while beneath the rigid shaft; Zeta’s female opening revealed a dewy desire.

  “My dear servant, I can see that you are in need of release.”

  Zeta lowered her head, ashamed.

  “I want you to leave me now. Go join the other winged attendants and choose the one with largest and finest phallus and tell the hermaphrodite that the goddess Tara has granted permission for her to penetrate your lovely flower.”

  Zeta squeezed her thighs together, aroused by Tara’s generosity, but pained by her mistress’s obvious suffering. “I cannot leave you in anguish. It is my duty to serve you, goddess. I am committed to care for you. Using the gift that I am endowed with, I can take your mind off of your trouble. I beg you, goddess, pay no attention to the lack of discretion of my undisciplined vagina.”

  “You have dual urges and I am just one woman. I can only offer you penetration with my slender finger. If the goddess council ever found out—” Tara shook her head, unable to continue.

  “Don’t worry, mistress. We are very discreet.”

  Tara nodded. “To be totally happy, you need to be with your own kind—a hermaphrodite who can satisfy you fully.”

  “No, mistress. I only need you. I can ignore my feminine urges.”

  “You shouldn’t have to. Zeta, I know that my sister punished you when your feminine desires occurred.”

  Zeta made a little whimper, recalling how the goddess of destruction had spanked her feminine area whenever it moistened with desire. And Eris, enjoying causing pain, had thought of crueler and more inventive ways to punish Zeta’s genitalia.