Cursed Witch

by September Stone

  Having romantic feelings for Calder and Taj makes sense. I knew them both before the night of my escape from captivity—before the curse bound the five of us together. But since that first night, I’ve felt a pull toward Poe. When we stayed at a bed and breakfast and I brought blankets out to where Poe was sleeping in the back yard, something inside me had been drawn to him. I tried to tell myself it was just adrenaline from the night and the afterglow of the climax Calder had given me, but the attraction never ceased. When Poe and I were sparring, when we were caught in the net together—so many times I’ve wanted to feel his arms around me, his hands on me.

  It finally makes sense. I understand why my magic keeps reaching for him. It’s not a consequence of me being in solitary confinement for too many years or the clock steadily ticking down toward my untimely death that fuels my desire. It’s more than that. Something inside Poe requires someone like me—a focus to help him utilize and control his magic. And I need someone like Poe—strong, fierce, protective—to strengthen me.

  When I talked with Calder and Taj about how I was drawn to Poe, I couldn’t tell Calder that nothing would ever happen with Poe because something inside me knew that wasn’t the case. My magic keeps pulling me toward him because it senses our connection. I can help him stay himself when he shifts, and he can fill my magical tank so I can keep focusing the powers of those who depend on me.

  My lips part as I look at Poe through new eyes. His broad shoulders and corded muscles are barely contained by his t-shirt. His green eyes hold a glint of mischief that promises countless adventures at his side. “I don’t regret it, Poe. I want you, and I think you want me, too.”

  Desire darkens his eyes, but he doesn’t move toward me. “And your boyfriends? What happens when they wake up?”

  When they wake up. His subtle reminder that this connection between the two of us extends beyond us underscores how right this moment is. “They’ll understand,” I whisper.

  The words are barely off my lips when Poe closes the distance between us. One arm snakes around my back, pulling me flush against his body as his mouth claims mine. Our earlier kiss was nothing compared to the searing intensity burning between us now.

  His tongue parts my lips, requiring no invitation to explore my mouth. My knees go weak, and I’m sure I’d be a puddle on the ground if not for his strong arm holding me to him.

  His free hand travels the length of my body from my neck down to just above my knee before settling on my ass and squeezing so hard it makes me gasp. He growls appreciatively at the sound before backing me up until I’m pressed against a tree. With the trunk holding me in place, his other hand is free to yank my tunic dress upward and snake up under the hem to cup my breast through the fabric of my bra.

  He shifts his footing and his hardness presses against my hip, making my center ache with need. Wetness slicks my intimate folds, preparing the way for Poe.

  With each passing moment, I feel stronger, more alert. It’s as if every atom in my body is being charged by Poe’s caresses and kisses. I don’t know how I’ve lived so long without touch. Now that I’ve experienced it, it’s clear that during my time with Mona, I was never fully alive.

  With deft fingers, Poe unhooks my bra, freeing my breasts for his hands to explore. His mouth dips to my neck and I cling to his back while his hands test the shape and firmness of each boob. But with each touch, my need grows. I can’t get enough of his body. My fingers find the hem of his shirt and tug it upward. He pulls himself away just long enough to discard his top and to remove my tunic as well. When my bra joins the growing pile of clothes on the grass beside us, Poe returns his attention to my chest, dipping his head and capturing a nipple between his teeth.

  A hiss escapes my mouth, but I hold his head in place, not wanting him to stop. An inferno is building between my legs and I clench my thighs rhythmically to relieve some of the pressure.

  “No you don’t,” Poe rumbles, pressing a knee between my legs and forcing them apart. In the next breath, he’s shoved his hand into my panties. I can only gasp as he slides two fingers into my slick heat.

  “So wet for me,” he says against my mouth, slipping both fingers in and out at a painstakingly slow pace. I rock my hips, showing him the rhythm I need, but instead of complying, he draws his hand out of my underwear. Slowly, he licks the fingers from bottom to top before sucking them both into his mouth. “Fuck. Even sweeter than I thought.”

  I kick my shoes off as I push my panties over my hips. “Please, Poe,” I say as the fabric pools around my feet and I step free of them. “Don’t stop.”

  A wicked smile twists his lips. “I don’t intend to.”

  His mouth is back on my nipple again in an instant, his teeth more insistent this time. When a cry escapes me, he softens to a kiss before trailing his mouth down my stomach at a painstakingly slow pace. He holds my thighs together as he settles on his knees, making sure I can’t satisfy my need for friction myself.

  When his tongue finally reaches its final destination, he licks from my hole to my clit, making my nipples pucker with need. I thread my fingers through his hair as he raises my left leg over his right shoulder.

  His tongue swirls skillful circles around my apex, twisting me higher and higher. The rough bark of the tree scrapes against my back as I grind against his face, but somehow the sharp sensations only add to the pleasure building inside me.

  When Poe’s fingers slide inside me again, I know I won’t hold out much longer. Unlike before, his rhythm isn’t maddeningly slow. He moves in time with my need, and something low in my belly winds like a coil about to spring.

  “Play with your tits,” he orders, his lips not leaving my clit.

  Immediately, my hands fly from the back of his head to my breasts. Poe watches hungrily as I pull and pinch my nipples, each tweak sending a rush of pleasure straight to my clit.

  When he adds a third finger, I’m done for. I lose myself as a wave of pleasure crests over me, lifting me to new heights before plunging me back down to sultry depths, each swell bringing a new constellation of sensations.

  By the time I come back to myself, Poe stands before me, fully naked and entirely erect. I can’t tear my eyes off his hardness as it points directly at my center, right at the place I want it to go.

  “On your hands and knees,” Poe says.

  I squeeze my eyes closed and shake my head, sure I misheard him. “What?”

  But he points at the ground. “I’m not done yet, and I get the feeling you’ve got a round two in you. I want you on your hands and knees.”

  I spent so much of my life being ordered around by Mona and her goons that the idea of anyone bossing me should make my blood boil. But for some reason, having Poe tell me what to do makes my pussy clench and a new wave of wetness slick my thighs. Wordlessly, I do as he says, finding a soft, even spot on the path.

  It’s not until I’m down on all fours that it strikes me that anyone could be walking down this trail. “Should we find somewhere a little more private?”

  “Why? Worried someone might see us together?”

  Although he delivers the quip with his usual air of like-I-care-what-you-think, when I glance over my shoulder, I catch a tightness in his jaw. It’s as if the question has peeled back a layer of his bravado. The commanding shifter who ordered my movements with ease only moments ago is replaced by a man honestly concerned I might be ashamed to be caught with him.

  As he stands there, beautiful in his nakedness, looking both assertive and afraid as he towers over me, a sensation deeper than simple sexual desire takes root in my core. It’s not only the promise of another release that makes my body quiver with anticipation, it’s the overwhelming desire to feel connected to Poe. This moment—this experience—it’s all about the two of us. Just the two of us.

  “I want you,” I say, staring steadily into his green eyes. “Now get over here.”

  With a grin, Poe kneels behind me, his hot cock slipping along my slickness from behind,
and any worries melt from my mind entirely. He rocks back and forth, the head of him rubbing against my clit with each stroke, and a moan slips from my lips. But no matter how good this feels, I want more. I need him inside me.

  As if reading my mind, Poe’s fingers curl around my hips as he pulls back and takes aim. When he slams my ass into his hips, his cock slides inside me, hitting a spot that sends a wave of pleasure through my body.

  My breasts sway back and forth each time he drives into me from behind, and I lose all sense of time as another orgasm builds in my core.

  I’m close when he locks his arm around my middle and pulls me up until my back is molded against his chest. His left hand remains on my hip, steadying me and dictating my rhythm, while his right hand moves to my clit. With skilled fingers, he builds a frenzy inside me until I’m crying out again, tumbling over the cliff into ecstasy. He follows me over the edge, grunting as he comes inside me.

  His arms encircle me, and in his embrace I feel safe and protected. The ever-present countdown to the full moon that’s ticked in my head since the night we were cursed silences. I close my eyes, leaning against Poe’s chest, convinced that if I stay here, nothing bad can touch me. Poe won’t allow it.

  That certainty sends a shiver down my spine. I twist against him until we’re face to face. I meet the question in his eyes with a kiss on his lips. After the authority he displayed moments ago, I expect him to claim my mouth possessively, but his lips are soft and tentative.

  And mine.

  When he finally pulls away, his eyes are twinkling. “As much as I’d like to stay like this all day, kitten, we should probably get dressed at some point.”

  “You’re probably right.” I kiss him once more before standing and collecting my clothes.

  I’m lacing my shoes when Poe stills and straightens, staring down the trail toward the Temple. I don’t hear anything until several seconds later, moments before Silas comes into view around a bend in the trail.

  His gaze flicks from me to Poe and back again before he speaks. “The healers have been looking for you. Calder and Taj are awake.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Calder

  Healers in robes of light green bustle about, touching my forehead and the backs of my hands with stones of varying degrees of pointiness. My mouth is dry and I want water, but the words won’t form on my lips.

  Taj lies in the bed beside mine, with a second set of people giving him a similar treatment.

  Finally, after what seems like forever, a younger healer with strawberry blonde hair presses a glass into my hand. “Drink slowly,” she warns. “You don’t want to upset your stomach.”

  I do my best to heed her, but once I start sipping, I can’t stop. My throat seems to soak up the water like parched earth.

  “What’s the last thing you remember?” asks a man of about forty, his hood not quite covering his salt-and-pepper hair.

  “Ceremony.” The word comes out in a voice I scarcely recognize.

  The man nods in a maddeningly noncommittal way.

  The ceremony was supposed to break the curse. I recall chanting and a tingling sensation on my left palm, but then there’s nothing.

  Panic grips my insides. How long have I been here? And where are the others? I try to see past the figures surrounding me, but I can’t tell if there are more occupied beds in the ward.

  Where’s Bryn? Did something happen to her? The curse was designed to kill her. Did the ceremony somehow speed up the process?

  A door creaks open and a hum of new voices joins those of the healers. Moments later, the worry threatening to choke me ebbs as Bryn pushes her way to my side, Silas and Poe trailing a few steps behind her.

  “Thank the spirits!” She leans down, wrapping me in her arms and squeezing with so much force it’s hard to breathe. After a few moments, she pulls back just far enough to study my face. “Are you okay? How do you feel?”

  “Fine,” I grind out.

  She presses a kiss to my lips before turning to the nearest healer. “He needs warm tea with honey and marshmallow root, if you have it.” Her voice is so full of authority that the healer scurries off without a single question. Turning her gaze back to me, she smiles again and kisses my forehead before standing and crossing to Taj’s bed to give him a similar greeting.

  Poe crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at the remaining healers as they watch Bryn with unveiled interest. “A little privacy, if you don’t mind,” he says. “Or even if you do. Clear out.”

  A collective shiver passes through the men and women standing around before they scatter, each finding something to do as far away from our corner of the ward as possible.

  Poe and Silas step between the cots, the looks on their faces knotting my stomach with dread.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  Silas shakes his head. “Staff’s not here.”

  I glance at Poe, hoping he’ll tell me this is some kind of weird daemon humor, but his expression is grim.

  “But what about the undine?” Taj asks.

  Bryn stands, her shoulders slumped. “We don’t know,” she says, joining Poe and Silas. “Maybe her information was out of date, or maybe she figured out a way to lie to me. Either way, we need to keep looking.”

  I curl the fingers of my left hand. “How long do we have?”

  “Twelve days,” Silas says.

  Bryn’s chin drops to her chest and Poe’s hand jumps to her back as if on a tether. But it’s not until she leans into the touch that something clicks into place. Heat crackles through my body as suspicion blossoms.

  “Bryn,” I say, my voice even, “could you go check on that tea?”

  She perks up immediately. “Yeah. I’ll be right back.”

  She scampers off in the direction the healer disappeared, and I wait until she’s out of sight before cutting my gaze back to Poe.

  He rolls his shoulders. “If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

  His tone verges on boredom, which only stokes the flames of my anger. “Tell me, just how long did you wait after we were unconscious before making a move on our girl?”

  Taj sits up straighter in his bed. “What?”

  “I’m betting she was pretty upset,” I say, ignoring Taj’s bewilderment. “Vulnerable. Probably a pretty easy mark.”

  Poe crosses his arms over his chest. “You’ve got it all wrong.”

  I snort. “Are you telling me nothing happened between you two while we were unconscious?”

  Poe shakes his head. “I’m telling you she came to me.”

  “Fuck me,” Taj breathes.

  “No, I believe that was him,” Silas says, pointing to Poe. “Sorry. Too soon?”

  Taj’s brow knits, but he says nothing. I’ve known him long enough to understand this is how he deals with things. When he needs to process, he gets quiet. Still, I’m not sure how he can be silent at a time like this. Bryn—our Bryn—the woman we both care about—had sex with Poe, a man she barely knows. He’s a bounty hunter who was tasked to bring her in for crimes she’s not responsible for. The only reason he’s allied himself with us now is in an effort to save his own skin.

  That, and apparently to get intimately familiar with Bryn’s.

  “So you’re just going to stand there and pretend you didn’t know what was going on with me and Bryn?” I ask.

  Poe snorts. “Don’t you mean the two of you and Bryn? And no, I’d have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to know.”

  His flippant response makes me want to punch his smug face. “But you still went after her?”

  “Again, she came to me. And if you had any idea…” He trails off, glancing over his shoulder a second before Bryn appears, grinning from ear to ear, two white mugs in her hands.

  She stops by Taj’s bed first to hand one off to him. When she gives me mine, I take it, but I can’t return her sunny smile.

  Because as much as I want to call him a liar, I have no doubt he’s telling the truth. She warned
us this would happen. Her magic has been reaching for him. Apparently without Taj and me around to give her something else to latch on to, her magic finally had its way.

  We were supposed to talk about it. She promised Taj we’d talk before she explored anything with Poe. Why couldn’t she have waited until Taj and I woke up? We were supposed to discuss things. Was she afraid we’d talk her out of adding a third guy into the rotation? I’m fairly certain Taj would have gone for it. I’m not sure he could deny her anything. But what about me?

  Not that it matters, now that she’s taken things into her own hands. This is what happened with Taj all over again. She talks, assumes we’re on the same page, and acts on her impulses. And I’m just supposed to accept it.

  Not this time. We had a deal, and she couldn’t stick to her end of it. What does it say about her feelings for me and Taj if she couldn’t stay true to us until we could all sit down for a talk?

  Bryn perches on the edge of my mattress. “Don’t worry. We’ll get this all figured out,” she says.

  I want to ask her how—how are we supposed to figure anything out? I thought we had something special. She, Taj, and I were just starting to get a handle on what our relationship will look like, and she’s gone and ruined everything.

  But before I can say anything, she’s speaking again. “We’ve still got plenty of time to find the staff. Everything will be fine.”

  Looking into her big hazel eyes, I want to believe it. But I’m not sure I do.

  I set the mug on the small wooden table beside my bed. “I think I should get some sleep.”

  Her brow knits. “But you just woke up.”

  “You should let him rest,” Poe says.

  “Yeah,” Taj agrees. “I think we could both use a little time.”

  Her gaze slips from me to Taj and back again, and realization dawns over her features. I search her face for a hint of regret or embarrassment, but she presses her lips together in a tight line, effectively closing off any emotion. “Okay. Sleep well. I’ll… I’ll see you in the morning.”