“Very,” I replied, wishing my mouth would close, and stop answering him. A moan tore from my throat as his fingers skimmed over my exposed heat. “What are you doing to me?” I asked in a small voice, and he smiled with a wolfish grin.
“Not what I really want to be doing with you,” he mumbled. “I can control your body with my lips, Magdalena. Imagine what I could do to you with the rest of my body,” his voice was mesmerizing as his fingers once again slipped through the damp folds.
My body moved, and I knew it had little to do with whatever he’d done, and more to do with my desire to have him inside of me. I wanted the ache to stop, and knew without having to be told that he’d fill the void I’d always felt, and quiet my mind. I moaned loudly as he dipped the end of one finger inside and pulled it out, licking it clean as I watched him.
“You taste like I need to fuck you,” he muttered, rising up until he was on his knees between my legs. My eyes locked on the massive bulge his sweatpants failed to conceal. After what I saw in the bathroom, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t fit and if by some miracle he did, he’d probably rip me in half.
“Why are you doing this?” I whispered.
“Because you’re too afraid to take what you need, and I’m a bastard,” he growled. “I need the chaos that I see growing inside of you. I need to take you, ravage you over and over again. I want to hear the loudness of the pleasure I can give you as it escapes from your pretty lips. I want to feel the scratches on my skin that you’d leave as I enter your tight body. I want to watch as the storm heightens, as I make you mine.”
I moaned even though he wasn’t touching me. His words penetrated me harder than he ever could. My body responded, wetness filled my core as my nipples hardened beneath the soft cotton of the T-shirt. He knew it, too. His eyes feasted on my flesh, his hand lifted to skim lightly over my puckered nipple.
Our bodies could be skin on skin, and I’d still want him closer. It terrified me. I think it made him afraid as well. This reaction we had to each other wasn’t normal; it was like two storm fronts meeting and colliding, out of control.
“Do you know who I am?” he asked softly as he lifted the shirt, exposing the taut peaks of my nipples to his greedy gaze.
“Lucian,” I whimpered as his fingers pinched my nipple hard.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled, as if he didn’t like the idea that he thought I was beautiful at all. “I should end this infatuation I have with you,” he whispered as his head dipped and his teeth nipped at my nipple, stealing a mixed cry of pain and pleasure from my lips. He smiled against my flesh, and his mouth moved up to claim my lips as his heavy erection rested against my stomach. He kissed me hard, hard enough that I was sure our souls were briefly connected. His hand slipped down, cupping my heat. “You should run from me, sweet witch. I’m a one-way ride to the dark side, and there’s no return ticket home. Not that I’d let you go once I had you, anyway,” his seductive tone sent a chill through me.
“I ache,” I admitted, and watched as his lips curved into a dangerous smile.
“I know, and there’s nothing you will do about it. You won’t pleasure yourself, or allow another man to touch what is mine, do you understand me?” He growled forcefully. “You are mine until I decide what to do with you.”
“I am yours,” I repeated, with the meaning of the words slamming into my brain immediately after. I blinked and shook my head even as his mouth lowered to mine, his cocky smile sure that he’d won.
“Say it again, my little witch,” he ordered as his mouth prevented mine from doing as he’d demanded. His hungry mouth scorched mine, sending a wave of primal desire and heat searing through my body. The moment he ended the kiss, he sat back, waiting for me to follow his request.
“I am not yours,” I cried out through clenched teeth, with a glare that took a lot of effort to perfect. “I don’t know what you are doing to me, but it stops now.”
He smiled, and shook his head. “You’re stronger than I thought,” he said softly with a wild look in his eyes as something darker passed behind them. “You’re going to be fun to break,” he whispered as he lowered his head yet again, but this time I turned away from his mouth. That thing was dangerous.
He laughed coldly and held his hand against my chin, turning my face back to his with enough pressure that it was painful. “You should have stayed away when you had the chance; it’s too late now,” he whispered against my ear. “I’ve decided to have you, and you can lie to yourself, but your body will always tell you the truth. You want me as much as I want you; watching you fight it will be entertaining, sweet girl.” He released me, sat back until he was on the edge of the bed. His eyes swirled with black fire, and I gasped at their beauty. “Now, when I say so, you’ll remember everything about tonight except for the last five minutes. You will understand that I used a truth spell on you, to see if you were involved in the attacks if you remember this at all, otherwise, you’ll remember me being gentle to you, and tending to your injuries.”
“How many times have you done this to me?” I whispered angrily. How the hell could he do this to me? How many times had he?
“Forget what I told you to, now,” he said, and I blinked, struggling to remind myself not to forget.
“Lucian,” I whispered, blinking as his hand trailed down my arm; the soothing cream was thick in his palm as he applied it.
“How’s the pain?” he asked, his eyes lifting to hold mine.
“It’s fine,” I replied. “Did I pass out?” I continued, watching as his lips twitched as if he struggled to hold back a smile.
Chapter Seventeen
To judge from the notions expounded by theologians, one must conclude that God created most men simply with a view to crowd hell. ~Marquis de Sade
~Lucian
I paced the room, my eyes drifting back to the connecting door and the woman who slept on the other side. How the fuck? No one was immune to my compulsion, no one. Yet this little wisp of a witch resisted it twice now. It made me want inside her mind even more.
I wanted to see what was in there, to know her weaknesses and learn her faults. I wanted to do a lot of things to Lena, most of which would make the sexy little witch cringe and blush to her roots. Her pussy…Seeing it with nothing between it and myself had almost undone my resolve. The taste of her, fucking hell, I’d wanted to bury my face in it, and listen to her scream as she came unraveled on my tongue.
Bathing her had been a fucking horror show. She hadn’t even understood how badly she was burned, or that her flesh had disappeared in places, revealing the damaged muscles of her succulent thighs. Probably better that way; she’d been as oblivious to the life-threatening burns as she was to my efforts to heal her. She’d inhaled enough smoke that I’d feared we would lose her. Instead, she’d disregarded it, and turned her concern to her family. Luckily, she’d be healed by the time she woke up. Thanks to the salve and the salt from the leyline.
Mortals were weak, dragged down by those they loved. Love itself was a fucking disease. It’s one I myself will never suffer again. I let myself weaken when I thought I was in love, only to be betrayed and cursed. Never again.
My cock jerked, hard as steel, and begged to be buried in Lena’s soft, inviting flesh. I laughed soundlessly, hating that I was hard over something that I shouldn’t be lusting after. I would have liked nothing more than to fuck the little imp until she never forgets me or my name for the rest of her days.
I grabbed my cock, yanked it once and imagined her lips, her soft lush mouth that probably couldn’t open wide enough to take it. She could be taught, if I had the time. I don’t. I could possibly make enough time to ravish her, fuck her senseless, and then do what I came here to do: Kill them all. I tired of the game, though, so only a few would live this time. Each one would be carefully selected; the weak. The weak were easy t
argets for when she’s born again. I grunted, wishing it was that fucking easy.
It was never that easy.
I could easily destroy them all; however, there was always a chance of her being reincarnated into a new coven. That scenario would only make her harder to find when she comes of age.
This last hunt for Katarina had been challenging enough; challenging to the point that I had to use outside help to verify that I had located the correct coven. Normally, she would make an appearance every other generation or so. For some unfathomable reason, her last appearance was over a hundred and twenty years ago, and the coven had hidden itself well since then. I simply did not want to spare the effort to go through the endless searching again.
I opened the door before Bane knocked. His eyes went to my cock and I growled. My eyes turned red as his blue eyes did the same.
“Bringing them here was a bad idea, boss. Should have let them burn. Less to kill later; killing is messy. Messy is fucking time-consuming. I’m tired of burying bodies, and witches altogether. Need to go to the other clubs, find some girls, fuck five or six, maybe twenty, you in?” He absently itched his head where his dark blonde hair was gathered into a bun. He really should cut that shit off or just fucking leave it down.
“No,” I growled, my eyes sliding back to the door and the sleeping feminine flesh on the other side. “Pretty sure only one can make my dick happy tonight,” I snapped.
“Take her, make her forget it. Then take her again.” His reasoning is simple, but then Layton always had been. He had a hunger, one that couldn’t be sated. He craved pussy, and a lot of it. His fixation was everything and anything his partners would allow. Anything.
“It’s not that simple; she’s different. Smarter, stronger. I need to know why. I also need to use her to get close to Kendra, who won’t give me the fucking time of day. She’s different as well, and she was in the group that set off the wards.”
“There’s that, but there’s also someone trying to kill them. We need to figure out why. Her grandmother, she was in the running for high priestess of the coven, and her mother isn’t. Like the more powerful magic skipped a generation, which would make the girls powerful,” he mused.
“Magic is selective of who gets to wield it; it’s possible that both could be powerful, or one. Twins are an oddity within a coven, not even they understand why it happens. This bloodline has two sets; that isn’t just a coincidence.”
“Again, could be genetics.”
“It could be genetics if any of them had it in their lines, but they don’t. Therefore, it’s not something we should ignore. Unless her brother returned, and isn’t really dead,” I considered out loud. “I’ve got Helen on a short leash; unless she can shut her worthless face, she may need to disappear soon.”
“She’s salivating for the place you promised her: high priestess of the coven.”
“Not going to happen, ever. She’s cunning, ambitious, and lazy in bed,” I growled. Deviant mentioned that she couldn’t even suck him off; she gave up. I fucking hate quitters.
“Vlad was in the club, pouring booze like he owned the place. Any particular reason you allowed it to happen?” he asked. His eyes searched for the answer as if it would be written on my fucking face; as if.
“He didn’t hide who he was. It is better that we are able to monitor what he sees in the club, instead of him sneaking around on his own. I’d prefer to control what he sees, so that I know what he reports back to the Fae. I like him; respect is earned and he’s earned it. His reputation for fairness bothers me. The Fae in general fucking bother me. I don’t like that I respect them. We may need them, though; there’s something different about this time, and they won’t ask too many questions if we need their help. I find them a useful lot, deadly, but useful. There’s also the fact that they need us as much as we need them. Back to the matter at hand, I want Dev in position, ready to charm my little witch. If I need a distraction for her, he’s it.”
“He’s already here. Helen has him on her list as one of the sons of a coven elder in Utah. Bloodline originated in Salem,” Layton said carefully. “You think they’ll go through with the celebrations if they think their girls are in danger?”
“Witches stick to tradition, even if the fucking sky is falling. They think their magic depends on it.”
“I think you should fix their house, get them out from under our roof. You already did it at the club.”
“No, I can’t have these witches thinking anything other than what I want them to. I want to have eyes on this family and this is the best play to do it.” I narrowed my eyes on him as a thought struck. “You think I shouldn’t fuck her, just say it.”
“I don’t think you should fuck her.”
“Too fucking bad,” I growled, my eyes turning to hold his. “My dick has been rock hard since the moment I kissed her. Not even the thought of Elaine and her skills have lessened the effect Lena has had on me. Not to mention I need her, and I want her. No matter if she’s my enemy.”
“And if she gets pregnant, you’ll kill her?” he snapped angrily.
“You seem to have forgotten one of the curses the first little reincarnation gave me was an inability to sire children. It was her first pathetic attempt at protecting her coven from me. It’s a new world, Bane; women can prevent pregnancy now. Magdalena Fitzgerald is already on birth control, if the packet in her medicine cabinet can be trusted.”
“I thought the point of the Harvest was for them to fuck like rabbits and make a few babies. What if she went off of it?”
“It would seem my little witch is a rebel and has no intentions of making pretty little babies. Perhaps she has a plan in place to play along with the coven and her ancestors. She wouldn’t be the first witch to do it in order to obtain her powers and avoid baby spit-up,” I grinned, remembering how angry she’d been when she’d told me to go make pretty little heartbreaker babies and get lost. She’s got fire, and beautiful chaos inside of her.
“Do we know the plan for the girls who set off the wards?” he asked, his eyes darting in the direction of one of the bitches he referred to that was sleeping inside this house.
“Elaine comes; we’ll discuss the plans for the girls later.”
*~*~*
~Magdalena
I didn’t sleep as he’d requested, or, rather, demanded in his strange voice. Instead, I kept trying to remember everything I could about tonight. Pieces kept coming to me and I wasn’t sure what really happened and what had been an illusion. I snuck a pen out of the bedside drawer and wrote every strange detail that I couldn’t quite place on my arms; just in case I forgot. It wasn’t until a woman’s voice could be heard through the door that I left the bed.
I crept forward, listening to the woman as she bitched at Lucian, her voice rising as she got a good heated steam going.
“That’s bullshit, I earned my spot! No stupid little witch is going to replace me in your bed, understand?”
“You forget your place, Elaine.”
I lifted a brow at her declaration for her spot.
“Fuck that! Who the fuck is she? I’ll slice her from ear to ear, and then you’ll remember why you love me!”
“I never loved you, ever. I told you that it wasn’t possible years ago. She’ll die soon enough, but it won’t be by your hand.”
I clapped my hands over my mouth as images of Lucian standing with a swaddled dead body came rushing back. He was in my room, whispering words to me as he held my throat, preventing air from entering my lungs. No dog. Oh, fuck!
I looked around the room for an exit, realizing my family was in this man’s house! Had he set the fire to get us here? It didn’t make sense.
“Use me the way you like to. Anything you want, you can even call me her name,” she pleaded, and I grimaced.
Desperation was not sexy.
Her whiny voice grated on my nerves, and her threats made me wish I had enough magic to curse her with warts.
“Elaine, have some dignity. I told you this was a short-term arrangement, to not get attached.”
“Is it her? If it is, you can just fucking kill her and be done with it! Or I will, Lucian; it’s an easy fix. I’m not going away, and you can’t make me!”
I heard scuffling, a window shattered, and as I moved to the small window in my room, I watched as a small body hit the ground. I slapped my hands over my mouth and trembled. Holy shit! The knob on the door rattled, and I jumped into bed as silently as I could. I pulled the covers up to my neck, and closed my eyes.
I felt the bed give with his weight as he sat beside me calmly, like he hadn’t just thrown a woman to her death. What the fuck? His hand slipped to my cheek and his fingers touched it gently. I opened my eyes slowly and turned to look up at him.
His lips touched my forehead as I turned to look at him, keeping my arms that were covered in notes beneath the blankets.
“Hi,” I whispered, surprised that my voice was smooth and even.
“Morning, beautiful,” he mumbled before his lips hovered over mine before claiming them. “It’s not time to wake up yet, I just wanted to make sure you slept free of nightmares.”
The only nightmare I was having was him.
Chapter Eighteen
He only stayed with me until he thought I was asleep. I waited a few more hours, making sure the house was quiet before I snuck out of the room and slipped out the front door. I ran to the cottage and quickly fed Luna before jumping in the shower and scrubbing the notes off as best I could.
I was careful around the areas that had been burned. The salt bath I took last night—mixed with the cream Lucian used—was amazing, and I wanted the recipe he used for it. The burns looked almost completely healed and barely hurt when I moved.
Playing With Monsters Page 18