Wild Magic

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Wild Magic Page 11

by Sadie Jacks


  I fell back on the bed, breath rushing out of my open mouth. “Saint.” I could hear the whine in my voice.

  His husky chuckle vibrated against my left thigh. “You might as well dig in for the long haul, honey. I’m going to be here for a while.”

  He traced his tongue on my left thigh. At one point, I think he wrote out MINE, but I couldn’t be certain. All I could really focus on was the aching emptiness of my core. The need for him to fill me.

  My breasts ached, they were so heavy. I lifted a hand and began pinching and pulling at my nipples. The tender shoots of pain amped up my already languid body.

  Saint groaned, pulling my gaze to his once more. He was watching me play with my breasts.

  I plumped one of them up, ran my tongue over the parts I could reach. I was rewarded with another growl.

  He crawled up my body, making sure to hook my legs under his like shackles.

  My men sure had a thing with control in bed.

  He grabbed both of my wrists in one hand and anchored them over my head against the bed. My back arched, shoving my breasts up further toward his waiting mouth.

  His dark brown eyes flashed a bright green gold for a second. I was about to welcome Tenny to the party, but Saint decided to put his teeth, lips, and tongue to best use on my breasts.

  I curled up to him, as far as I could. All of my weight was suspended on my upper shoulders and hips. More of my nipple popped into his mouth at my sudden movement. His eyes widened briefly before darkening again.

  He bit me.

  The dark sultry wave of almost pain ratcheted me higher. At this rate, I would be able to cum without him inside me at all. Once he had his teeth around my areola, I let my body drop. His teeth clicked together with a soft snick as my nipple fell from his mouth. Like a small firecracker going off just under my nipple, waves of pleasure swamped my body.

  He tsked me from above. “Naughty girl. You’re going to pay for that.” A sexy smile lit his features.

  He pushed up from the bed, leaving me naked and alone.

  “Saint!” I sat up, watching him walk to his closet.

  He opened the door, hit the light. He stood just inside the door, studying something on his wall.

  While my body settled after the tiny orgasm, I looked at his space for the first time. In the bedroom section of the open floor plan, he had a low dresser in dark wood. To the side of that was a mirror almost as big as Saint’s new body. I sat in the puddle of dark blue sheets. My black hair and honey skin a stark contrast of colorations.

  His bed was almost as big as the ones at the cabin. But his had a gorgeous metalwork headboard. Not really latticework, because that would have been too girly for the masculine guy. But an intricate weaving of copper, stainless steel, and iron strips. The colors were perfect and suited Saint’s personality well.

  The other end of the room was situated to be his kitchen and dining area. A small section in the middle of the room was dedicated to a desk that was meticulously clean. Directly opposite that was a couch and an enormous TV that seemed to take up all available wall space.

  “Yes. I think these should do nicely,” Saint said, pulling my attention back to him.

  “What should work nicely?”

  “You’ll see. Well, not really. But you’ll soon find out.” He chuckled again.

  His walk was as smooth as if he’d lived in his new body for his entire life.

  “Just one question, then you can do whatever you want.” I raised a hand to stop him.

  He stopped all movement. Looked at me with serious eyes. Nodded at me.

  “How are you so accustomed to your new size already? Wasn’t it a smidgen weird to be a little taller than me, poof—change into a dragon, then bam—now you’re almost a foot taller?”

  Saint’s head tipped back as laughter poured from his body. The joyous sounds boomed off the ceilings, ricocheted off the wall of windows. He eventually settled down. Lifting one hand that was full of what looked like a selection of ties and belts, he wiped his eyes.

  “What’s so funny? And what the hell is in your hand?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “For what I have in mind, that question was nowhere on my radar. Hell, it wasn’t even in the same atmosphere. I had a couple of hours to get used to this body while you all went to the cabin. I did a full physical work up including stress test and workout for Atlas’ files.”

  He continued the short walk from his closet back to the bed. “As to what is in my hand, since you can’t behave yourself, you’re going to be tied down.”

  My gaze, which had been eyeing the stuff in his hands, whipped up to meet his. A spark of excitement and a wisp of fear collided together inside me.

  Saint’s gaze traveled down my body, back up to my face. “I see you’re not averse to the idea.”

  I shook my head, words a little beyond my capabilities at the moment.

  “Any questions?”

  Another head shake.

  “I’m going to start really lightly. If you tug too hard, you’ll be able to break the knots, okay? Since you’ve never done this…” he raised an eyebrow at me, I shook my head, “then we’ll start slow. I’d like to share this part of me with you. But you’re the one who’s in complete control. Anytime you want something to stop, you just say so. You need me to go slower or lighter? Just say so. Sound like something you want to try?”

  The answering heat in my sex said yes.

  The shouting voice in my head said no. A line of sweat dampened my brow. My heart began to race. I could feel the huge room begin to close in around me.

  I brushed the thought away. There was absolutely nothing wrong with this room. Or Saint. I was as safe as a newborn with him.

  I looked at him. His face was calm, no rushing me, no desperation. Just my Saint. I wet my lips and swallowed. “Co-could we have regular sex the first time? And then play your games?”

  He dropped the stuff in his hands. Walked to the bed. “Of course. Of course, we can, honey. Will you be willing to talk to me about what you’re feeling right now?”

  I felt my cheeks heat. Man, it would’ve been easier to just play the game than talk about it. Damn it.

  “I…I don’t know if I can let you tie me up,” I said so softly I almost didn’t hear my own words.

  He leaned towards me. “Okay. That’s fair. Have any idea why?”

  His expression was so soft, so encouraging. I hated to disappoint him, to make him feel uncomfortable about his needs. But I just didn’t understand them, not really. Hell, I didn’t really understand myself right now.

  I felt like my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest. I ignored it.

  I shrugged, at a loss for words. “What if…what if you hurt me?” Or my absolute worst fear…what if I did something he didn’t like, and I was restrained with no way of escape?

  I shuddered before I could control it.

  He wrenched back like I’d struck him. He got up from the bed, his beautiful body both hard and soft in the early morning light.

  “You don’t trust me?” he asked in a whisper.

  Shit, shit, shit. “Not like what you’re thinking. I know you’d never intentionally hurt me. Shit, Saint.” Hearing him say it out loud made me realize that was only part of the problem. I could have sex, share my body and my heart. I dropped my head into my hands. What the fuck was wrong with me?

  A set of warm arms curled around my shoulders. I buried my face in the angle of his neck.

  He ran his hands through my hair, soft sounds coming from his chest.

  “Don’t cry, honey. I’m sorry.”

  Cry?

  No tears filled my eyes, but I was shuddering. My body was quaking under his hands, my breath backing up in my throat as I struggled to pull enough air into my lungs.

  I pulled back, shaking my head at him.

  I couldn’t get enough air. I was suffocating.

  The sound of blood roared through my head, as my vision went to a tunnel.
/>   “Fuck,” he said, his face going pale. “Hang on, baby. Hang on.” He pulled me to the side of the bed, pushed my feet to the floor, and bent me in half so my head was between my knees.

  The door to his floor burst open. I could just make out the sound of bare feet running over the cement floors.

  “What the fuck, Saint? You said she was okay with you,” Ransom said.

  “She was. FUCK.”

  Ransom’s hands replaced Saint’s on my hair.

  I wanted to curl in on myself, disappear. I’d hurt Saint, hurt his feelings, made him doubt who he was, what he needed.

  Ransom ran his hands over my shoulders. “Big breath in, angel. Come on. I know you can do it.”

  I tried. Good Gaia, did I try.

  Just as I felt everything beginning to shut down around me, Ransom moved. His heel landed on the sensitive inner arch of my foot.

  A burst of air whooshed into my lungs as the pain short circuited whatever panic attack I was having. I greedily drew the air in and out for long minutes.

  “What the fuck happened?” Ransom asked as he stood back as I got my breath back.

  “It-it’s not his fault, Ransom.” I held up a hand for both of them to wait for me to finish. “He wants to tie me up.”

  Ransom’s low growl had me giving him my own in return. “Shut up. I’m not done. And considering you wrapped your hand around my throat the second time we had sex, I don’t think you can cast any stones here, buddy.”

  Saint’s back went up as he angled toward his brother.

  The whole situation just made me laugh. Yes, it could have been the residual adrenaline, but the whole thing just struck me as insanely funny right then. I laughed my fool head off as I burned through the last vestiges of fear and panic.

  Tears tracked down my cheeks, my belly hurt, and my cheeks ached by the time I got myself under control.

  Saint was still naked, Ransom was still glaring at him, and I was the crazy lady sitting on the bed like she’d lost her mind.

  I finally quieted. Motioning both men to the bed, I wrapped up in the sheets.

  Saint didn’t bother covering himself.

  I pulled him towards me and kissed him on the lips. He was slow in returning it, but he did eventually.

  “Angel,” Ransom said.

  I held up a hand. Glared at him. “It’s still my turn. Saint wants to tie me up. I would like that, too.”

  Saint snorted, drawing my attention.

  “Really, Saint I would. But you said something and I was immediately flooded with what happened to me when I disappointed my par—Juan and Ferria.” I bit my lip. I hadn’t meant to share that. Shit, shit, shit.

  “What happened when they were disappointed, Kiema?” Saint asked, his voice very controlled, almost cold.

  I shuddered under that artic blast. “They would express their displeasure in…” I waved a hand in the air, “ways that let me know I wasn’t to engage in the previous behavior ever again.”

  Ransom, who was wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs, snarled.

  “What happened, Kiema?” Ransom asked this time.

  I pulled the sheets tighter around me. Grabbed a pillow, pulled it to my belly. Curled myself over it. Suddenly, a rage like I’ve never experienced washed over me.

  I threw the pillow at Ransom’s head, pushed my way off the bed. Standing at the foot of the bed, I slammed my fists on my hips.

  “You want to know? Really want to know what they did to me?”

  Two solemn nods.

  “The first time they hit me I was maybe five. I’d touched a little girl in the hallway coming from my father’s wing. I got pulled into her spirit plane before I could do anything. I accidentally healed her. It took me close to a week to heal the damage to my arms and legs.”

  Saint’s face closed down totally. No emotion in, no emotion out.

  Ransom was the explosion to the complete nothingness that was Saint. He burst from the bed, his hands shaking in the air like he was fighting an unseen enemy.

  “The first time I was restrained, I was ten. They locked me in a dark room for a week. I wasn’t allowed to leave. The bread and water I got every day came through a slot in the door. They would turn the lights off in the hallway where they kept me so I couldn’t see light then either.” I could feel the breath backing up in my throat as the rage burned in my chest.

  “The first time I was beaten, I was sixteen. I’d asked the magic tutor if I could see his cell phone. I called North Cross Public Security. The Law Enforcement Officer who showed up was on my father’s payroll. It took me three weeks to heal myself after that.” I turned my head, lifted my right side of my hair. A long, thin scar ran the length of my hairline.

  “The second time I was beaten, I was twenty-two. I’d been unable to heal a Seeker. We’re still not sure why, but his illness was added to my no-go list. Juan and Ferria had to bring in a magic user for me to syphon so I could get enough energy to heal myself. I saw that person every single day for four months.”

  My breath was billowing through my chest by the time I was done. Angry tears filled my eyes. I dashed them away. I wouldn’t be pitied. I’d escaped that life. These men before me had helped me do it. I would never subject myself to that kind of pain or torture ever again.

  In their arms, I never had to. Even when Saint asked me to let him tie me up, I’d been fine. Willing and excited. But he’d said something I couldn’t handle. Then all of it exploded. It blew up around me like a nuclear bomb. I just hoped I hadn’t wrecked their lives with the shrapnel from mine.

  Deflated and oddly light, I sank to the floor at the foot of the bed. Drawing the duvet over my shoulders, this time I let the tears come. These were cleansing tears. The years of loneliness and isolation sprang from my tear ducts like a spring rainstorm. My hiccupping coughs the thunder.

  Two sets of arms wrapped me up and lifted me from the cold, hard floor.

  They didn’t say anything, merely held me while I purified my soul of the hatred and fear. The pain and agony of living with those two awful people.

  We stayed like that for what felt like ages. As the tears finally stopped, I felt new. Brighter. Happier. Lighter.

  “Better, angel?” Ransom asked.

  I nodded. I swiped a hand under my nose. “I’ve got a bit of a headache, but I feel better.”

  Saint, who was at my back, was planting small kisses over every inch of me he could reach. “I’ll get you some water.”

  I sniffled up the snot that wanted to drip from my nose.

  “And a tissue,” he said as he got up from the bed.

  A wash of cool air filtered down my back as I smiled. “Thanks, Saint.”

  He nodded as he walked to his kitchen area. The sound of the faucet turning on filled the huge room.

  “If you don’t want to be tied up, angel, you don’t have to be. He won’t mind.”

  I shook my head, a sad smile on my face. “That’s not the problem. Like I said, I wanted to. Like really excited about it.”

  Saint came back over, glass of water and a box of tissues in his hands. I took a couple of tissues, blew my nose.

  Ransom grimaced which made me laugh. I threw the snotty tissue at him. He leapt back like it contained the plague.

  “Gross, Ki.” He shuddered.

  “You’ve had your tongue inside my pussy, and snot is disgusting?”

  He shuddered again. “Yes. They’re different. So different.”

  Saint laughed from behind me. “I don’t mind your snot, honey. Granted, I don’t want to lick it up like I want to eat your pussy, but I’m not going to turn into a little wuss about it.”

  I swallowed my drink of water before it could shower the bed. “My hero.” I leaned back, kissed his shoulder.

  “So, my asking you to let me tie you up wasn’t the problem?” he asked, his face serious.

  I shook my head. “No, not at all. Again, and hopefully for the last time, I was excited by the idea. I didn’t mind when
Ransom put his hand over my throat, even though one of my…disciplinarians had done that before, too.”

  Ransom looked like he was about to puke. His face lost all color as his eyes widened.

  I leaned forward. “Did I seem bothered by it while it was happening?” I asked him, a hand on his bare chest.

  He shook his head. “If I remember correctly, you tightened my grip around your throat.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, because it was fucking hot to have you do that to me in pleasure, yours and mine, when before it had been used to hurt me.”

  He nodded. Slowly.

  “So you were good with the idea,” Saint said, pulling my attention to him.

  I nodded again, moving back to get both of them in my eyeline at the same time. “Yes. All of it really.”

  “But yet you asked if we could have regular sex instead of playing my games?”

  “Say what you said before,” Ransom said to Saint.

  Saint stiffened in front of me, his body rigid where it had just been pliant and welcoming.

  I smiled at him. “We need to figure this out. I want those things with you, Saint. I really do. But I don’t want to freak out every time we want to have sexy times, or you have a game you want me to play.” I pleaded with him.

  “Um, angel, those aren’t games to him,” Ransom said. The warmth of his breath brushed over my shoulder.

  Saint was looking at me like he expected me to run away, screaming and terrified.

  “Okay. Then I’m sorry for calling them games. I didn’t mean anything by calling them that.”

  Shit, now what had I done?

  Saint repeated his words about tying me up. The rules, how I was in control.

  “Gaia’s balls! Control. That’s the trigger.” I slapped my hand against my forehead.

  The guys looked at me like I’d gone crazy. I was getting used to that expression from all of the men in my life currently.

  “I was fine, on board, about to have a sexy time party with your body, Saint. Then you said everything you did about me being in…” I widened my eyes, “you know.” I didn’t want to unknowingly bring on another panic episode.

 

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