Sweet Evangeline (Moon Magic Book 2)

by Sable Hunter

  “They may not be bigger, but they sure are sweet.” His words touched her heart. This was the most precious man in the world. He left her plump, pink nipples and let his lips roam south. Slipping his tongue in her navel, he let a hand graze up her thigh and touched the hot, wet place between her legs.

  “Eric, sweetheart—I want you so much I ache. I feel so empty, my vulva feels so…so hungry for you. Please, make love to me.”

  He stopped dead still and looked up at her. She was so beautiful, her eyes black with passion, her breasts heaving with excitement and she was begging him to make love to her. Eric swept her up in his arms and laid her gently on the bed. He was beside her, over her—kissing her lips, kissing her breasts, kissing the wet spot on her panties that proved she was more than ready for him. Eric tugged the little scrap of lace down and readied himself to enter her.

  She spread her legs wide and lifted her hips, imploring him to take possession of her. “Please, Eric. I need you, so.” Her pleas did not go unanswered. Positioning himself to enter her, he locked his eyes with her and gave her what she had been begging for. He threaded his fingers into hers and plunged all the way in with one mighty thrust. She jerked, her fingers biting into his. Eric froze. His fever lust had been so high and his momentum so strong that there was no way he could have stopped the penetration once it began. There had been resistance.

  “Oh, baby, baby, baby…did I hurt you?” He showered her face with kisses. “Why didn’t you tell me?” This had been Evangeline’s first time.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing the side of his face. Her hips began to move. “Please. Don’t stop, Eric. You could never hurt me.” She urged him on. He buried his face in her neck. He couldn’t stop. It felt too good to stop. She was so tight and wet. It felt like his rod was encased in hot, whipped cream. Raising up and kneeling, he pulled her hips up into his lap, leaving his hands free to massage her breasts and her clitoris. “Does it feel good now, love?” He wanted to please her more than he could say.

  She was moaning, now. “It’s so good, so good! Eric come down here, give me your lips.” He did as she asked. She kissed him, then urged him on. “Now, don’t hold back. I want it all.” She was giving him freedom to move, to thrust, to plunge to gyrate. And he did, he held himself up on his arms and pumped into her with deep, strong strokes that brought them both to ecstasy. “Eric!” she screamed, her head thrown back.

  When he felt her contractions begin, he let himself go. Closing his eyes, he let himself feel their joining, the miracle of the secret place inside of her that was fashioned just for him. He had never felt like this. The fire rose, the muscles of his neck corded, he felt twenty feet tall! When release came it was blinding, pulsating; he groaned out her name. “Evangeline, oh Evangeline, sweet, sweet Evangeline.”

  She cradled him as he quaked, his body shuddering in exquisite release. “I love how the weight of your body feels pressing me down into the mattress.” Kissing him on the side of the neck, she sighed. “I’m not alone anymore.”

  When he could breathe normally, he rose and went to the bathroom. Upon his return, he brought a warm wash cloth. He turned on the bed side lamp and spread her legs, so he could tenderly wash her. The little bit of blood that stained her thighs—the evidence of her innocence—made his heart contract with emotion.

  “Now, it’s my turn to take care of you. Are you sore, sweetheart?”

  She was entranced watching him, her Angel. He was everything she had longed for, everything she could have ever expected. “No. I feel happy and satisfied and tingly and…” She held her arms out and he lay down, pulling her tight against his side. “I am so glad you’re here.” He turned off the lamp and held her until the morning light broke the eastern skies.

  Evangeline woke first. She was wrapped in his arms, held close to his body. Never had she felt so alive. Lying naked, all night, in the arms of the man you love was the most sublime thing Evangeline had ever experienced. This was Angel. This was Eric. Now, the two were one in her mind and she was happier than she had ever expected to be. He was still asleep. She rose up a little and looked at him. Nothing else in her life was as important. If she did nothing else, but spend every second with him that he would allow, she could die happy.

  Just watching him breathe caused her to ache with desire. She wanted to wake him and ask him to make love to her again. Could she do that? What would he think of her boldness? Tentatively, she reached out to touch him, then she drew quickly back. She didn’t know how to begin. Her nipples hardened and her pussy spasmed with anticipation—all at the thought of being possessed by Eric again.

  She gave in to temptation. He was lying on his side, and she was facing him. Easing closer to him, she began kissing his shoulder and soothing her hand up and down his spine. Once, she even grazed the top of his bottom, her mouth went dry with longing, and she wanted more. She ran her hand over his shoulder, marveling at the silk over steel sensation. She kissed his throat, letting her tongue linger over his Adam’s apple. He didn’t move. He was sound asleep. Okay, so she would try another tactic. Her lips found one of his nipples—knowing how wonderful it felt to have her own nipples kissed—she began a sensual assault on the small, flat discs that so intrigued her.

  “It’s not working,” she huffed under her breath. “He must really be tired.” Again, she eased up and tried again—kissing his shoulder, and licking his nipples. Nothing! “Man!” It wasn’t working. Now she was getting desperate. He had shifted in his sleep as she caressed him; and although he was still on his side, one of his legs lay between the two of hers. She moved even closer to him, so her nipples were grazing his chest. She let her kisses get even more heated, even nipping him gently. Finally, in a last ditch effort to either wake him or find gratification on her own—she lowered her body just enough to make contact between her sex and his thigh.

  * * * *

  Eric lay there for a moment, trying to decide if he was awake or dreaming. He bit his bottom lip, and confirmed that yes he was, in fact, awake. Ahhh, he was dying! He smiled with the realization that he was being seduced. Everything in him was ready to spring into action, open his eyes and ravish Evangeline Martel. But something in him made him wait; he wanted to know how far she would go. She was so innocent, yet so naturally erotic. He tried to lay still. But when she began to ride him gently, luxuriously rubbing her body on his, that was all he could take.

  “Eric, my Angel, please wake up. I need you so.”

  At those sweet words, he closed his arms around her, flipped himself over on his back and brought her along for the ride. “You minx, I wasn’t asleep. I just wanted to see what you would do.”

  She bent and kissed his lips. “I feel shameless. But I want you so much, I don’t care. I can feel how big you are, can I have him inside me now, please?”

  Eric stilled. He looked at this lovely woman, who was, once again, asking his permission to love him. He couldn’t remember ever having sex before last night. He couldn’t remember any other woman’s face. It was like he had been waiting for Evangeline since the day he was born. “Yes, sweetheart. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me. Lift up.” She did and he entered her. It took both of their breaths away. He held her hands until she found her rhythm. She caressed him, ground down, rode him, and rocked her pleasure against his pelvic bone—every thrust sending electric desire through his very soul.

  His hands were not still. He caressed her face, her shoulders, he held and cherished her breasts, then he drove his own self crazy stroking her clit—watching her face as she reached her peak. Letting himself go, he held her steady as he bucked upward, exploding within her. Eric pulled her down to him, kissing her lips. “That was the best way to wake up I could ever imagine. Will you promise me more mornings like this?”

  “As long as you want them.”

  “That could be forever.”

  “I’m counting on that.”

  * * * *

  She lay, content, on his big body,
still connected in the most intimate way possible.

  It was hard to think with him still deep inside of her. Even in a flaccid state, he was bringing her pleasure. She tried to be still, she really did. And outwardly—no one could tell that she was moving. But there was no way Eric could have missed it. She tightened around him, stroking, undulating, caressing. “Eric, I can’t be still. Do you want me to move?”

  “God, yes.”

  Her heart sank. She was being too aggressive. She began to pull off of him, ready to get up and let him rest.

  “Where are you going?” He stopped her.

  “You said you wanted me to move,” she whispered.

  “Yes. Move. I want more of those incredible little moves you were making that are causing me to swell. Can’t you feel it?” He rose from the bed, holding her in his arms. If there had been a mirror, Evangeline would have seen her artwork come to life.

  He stood—legs slightly apart, supporting her bottom, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms around his neck. He made her fantasy come true. The bronze came to life. She buried her head in his neck and screamed his name in Rapture.

  Later, he sat on the bed, holding on to her for dear life. He didn’t plan to ever let her go. “Can I spend the day with you?”

  “Please.”

  Their breathing finally slowed, and when it did—they both heard it. Piano music began to waft through the air. It wasn’t coming from any particular direction, it was everywhere—soft, seductive, haunting. “Where is that coming from?” Eric asked.

  “I thought I had a ghost, but now I’m not so sure.” Evangeline smiled, kissing him on the nose.

  “I don’t know if I believe in ghosts.”

  Evangeline swallowed, took a deep breath and asked, “Well, how do you feel about magick?”

  Eric laughed. “Oh, now magic is a different story. I definitely believe in magic.” He picked her up and carried her to the bathroom and sat her on the vanity. They were both still gloriously naked.

  “Baby, I know you’re happy and the magic you’re referring to is real—it’s the magic between a man and a woman. And as much as I believe in that kind of magic, it isn’t what I’m talking about.” Her face grew serious. “Eric love, I need you to really listen to me. I need to tell you the truth.” He stopped, dead still. Please don’t let this be over, he prayed. He couldn’t take it, he just couldn’t take it.

  That thought she heard. “It’s not over, Eric. It will never be over, not if I have any say about it.”

  “You can hear my thoughts?” Eric was amazed.

  She continued with her explanation. “Sometimes, I can read your thoughts…if I’m concentrating. I’m the least psychic one in my family, but we’re all unusual. We have powers.” She closed her eyes and lowered her head. This was going to be hard. “I have power.”

  “You most certainly do.” He went to the shower and turned it on. “You have the power to turn me inside out. You have the power to bring me to my knees with desire for you.” He walked back to her and tenderly began taking her braid down. “I want to see your hair; loose, long, see your nipples peeking through the strands.” She watched him, unbelievably, he was getting hard again. She reached out and caressed his penis. He closed his eyes in pleasure. “See, how much power you have.”

  “Eric. I’m serious.”

  “Oh, babe, so am I. You have ultimate power over me. Just one look from you and I am as hard as an iron spike.” He stepped in front of her, jutting straight out—engorged, powerful, blatantly aroused.

  So, she would just have to show him. He stood three feet in front of her. “Don’t move, Eric, stay there.”

  There was not where Eric wanted to be. He wanted to be inside of her, deep, inside of her. But he obeyed. She held out one hand, as if she were going to touch him, but there was no way that she could reach him from where she sat. She closed her eyes and moved her hand as if she closed it around his rod. She caressed him with her fingers, she massaged his length up and down. But she was three-feet-away.

  Eric felt every move of her fingers. He tingled all over. This was impossible! She was touching him! He could feel her caress! She kept it up, literally. Eric was astounded. He was being given the most incredible hand job of his life, and there was no hand involved. His breathing accelerated.

  “I’m going to kiss you now.” He was stunned! Evangeline opened her mouth and began to swirl her tongue in the air—licking her own lips in a circular motion—bringing them together in a tender kiss. And he felt all of it!

  She was not unaffected. He watched her hands pluck at her own nipples, watched her flex her hips, trying to ease the tension between her legs. Still, she kept up the onslaught. Every slight move of her tongue and her lips was magnified a hundred times on his manhood. He withstood the incredible torture for as long as he could, and then he climaxed. Wildly, he erupted! His whole body convulsed and he shot his cum clear across the room, splattering the mirror of the vanity in a white-hot eruption.

  Eric sank to his knees. “What did you do to me?” He was incredulous. She must know some type of hypnosis; that was the only thing he could think of that made sense. There had to be a logical explanation. Evangeline stepped down from the vanity, took a wash cloth, held it under the warm spray of the shower and knelt in front of him. She tenderly washed him. “I loved you in my mind.”

  “Your mind is very talented.”

  “You’re not angry?”

  “Angry, no. Confused, yes.” He looked at her. She was the same. The hair that he had loosened, hung thick over one shoulder—a dark, pink nipple peeked through the silky black strands. “What else can you do?”

  “I can love you.” She kissed his chest. “Come, bathe with me.” He could do nothing, but follow.

  Before getting into the shower, he took another cloth and washed the evidence of his passion from the mirror. “I have never come that violently before. I didn’t know I could.” Then, he thought of the first night that he had dreamed about her—the volcanic eruption of his climax that night had almost equaled this one. The effect that she had on him was unbelievable. He swore the moment they climbed out of that shower, he would get to the bottom of this. But right now, his mind wasn’t in charge. His heart was.

  She led him by the hand under the warm spray. Evangeline soaped his body, enjoying the feel of him. “Love, I can’t get it up so soon. You’ve drained me; three times in one morning is a record for me.”

  “I know. I just love to touch you. Your body is magnificent. Even though, I’ve touched it many times in my mind, fantasy is a far cry from reality.” He filled his own hand with the liquid soap and began returning the favor. Turning her so that her back was to him, Eric used his soapy hands to luxuriously wash Evangeline’s neck, arms, breasts, stomach—everywhere. She leaned back against him, raising her arms above her head to caress his face. When his hands finally found the juncture between her thighs—it only took one touch—and she convulsed with a climax that had been building since she had watched him come by just the touch of her spirit.

  But he didn’t leave it at one touch, he kept working her and she kept coming. “Eric, you are so—” She was about to say ‘wonderful’, but he finished the thought.

  “Hard,” he said through clenched teeth. “I am so friggin’ hard, it’s crazy!”

  He picked her up and sat her down on his cock. Moving her to the side of the shower, she rested her face on his shoulder as he pumped wildly into her grateful, aching pussy.

  This time it was hot, hard, fast and totally satisfying. Even after he spilled his seed deep within her womb, he kept pushing, pushing, letting the final sweet contractions of her channel milk the last drop of molten lava from his spent shaft. “I’m convinced.” He panted. “I believe you.” He voice was breathless from the exertion.

  Evangeline, still supported by his strong hands, held her breath and asked, “What do you believe, Eric?”

  “You’re a witch,” he whispered. “I don’t really un
derstand it, but I believe.”

  Chapter Five

  As she cooked, Evangeline remembered his words last night, he had believed her—that she was a witch. She knew he had no depth of knowledge. He hadn’t even realized what he had been saying. It was his passion speaking. But he wasn’t heading for the hills. He wasn’t running away from her. She had a chance. Evangeline prepared him a sumptuous breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns and French toast. Then she watched him eat. She sat by him and he fed her every bite she would eat, but she mainly feasted on the sight of him at her kitchen table. Doing little things for him warmed her heart. When he was full, he was ready to talk. She put the dishes in the dishwasher and they went back to the living room. She sat on the couch and he surprised her by laying down on it and resting his head in her lap. They sat there for a moment, and she waited for him to ask whatever he wanted to. She didn’t have long to wait.

  “So, you say that your family has power. What kind of power?” His eyes twinkled. The topic still made him uneasy. Since the death of his mother, this topic had been ignored or belittled. It was hard for him to take it seriously. But his mother…

  “All the women in my family practice hoodoo, it’s the New Orleans form of witchcraft.”

  Eric sat up. He couldn’t believe his ears. “Do you mean to tell me that round, sweet, little grandmother of yours is a witch?” Eric was incredulous, he couldn’t help it. Witchcraft was one of those topics that his father had very definite ideas about.

  “That round, sweet little grandmother of mine is the most powerful woman I have ever met. She can see the future in a bowl of clear water, she can read your thoughts from across the miles, and she probably knows exactly what we’ve been doing all morning. But she doesn’t refer to herself very often as a witch, but rather a rootworker or a conjurer. ”

  “Crap!” Eric couldn’t help but laugh. “I remember at the museum, you asked me if you had conjured me. Tell me more.”