by Kathryn Moon
The light overhead flickered off, and Josie’s eyes fell shut. Bell’s hands were tight on her hips, and she was pretty sure she could’ve melted into a heap of pleasure and he’d have kept her fastened to his lips. The touch was slow and lazy, stealing her flavor and building arousal without driving her quickly there. He growled as he dipped his tongue inside her, and Josie shouted, clinging to him and rolling her hips into the touch.
“I should warn you,” Josie said, voice gasping as Bell caught her clit at the tip of his tongue. “I’m not easily satisfied.”
Bell hummed against her flesh, and Josie trembled. He curled one arm securely around her waist and then leaned back, his now free hand fitting between them to rub her, stirring up sparks of heat.
“I was counting on that, Cupcake. I don’t plan on this ending quickly.”
Josie blinked her eyes open, gazed down at Bell in the new shadow and warm light of the room, a street lamp outside mimicking a full moon’s blue cast on the floor.
“Do your worst, Mr. Bad News,” Josie said, smiling.
Bell held her stare and moved his hand, spreading her open for a sucking kiss over her clit, his middle finger pressing inside of her. The contrasting pressure of the two sensations left Josie arching, rising up to her tiptoes as if Bell would let her escape the assault of pleasure. She raked her nails against his scalp, wrapped her other hand around the back of his neck, and praised whoever needed praising that demons didn’t seem to need to breathe.
He fit another finger inside of her, the stretch a bite that left goosebumps breaking out over her skin, and then twisted them both, turning and crooking them forward. The slow dragging weight that had been growing in her center spread suddenly outwards, and Bell’s arm clamped tight around her waist to keep her from falling as her legs curled up and a dark, electric ecstasy swallowed up every one of her senses.
Josie shivered and shook as the orgasm continued, flaring with every soft slurp of Bell’s lips on her sex, and every slow plunge and pull of his fingers.
“Enough,” she gasped, hoping he’d caught that magic since she’d definitely been unable to remember the goal of summoning him with his mouth doing the devil’s work on her clit.
Bell released her with a wet pop, and it took Josie a full minute before the dizzy stars cleared from her vision and she could see the wet print around his mouth as he grinned. His fingers were still inside her, scissoring slightly, and he pulled her down his chest to wrap around his lap.
“I told you this wouldn’t end quickly,” he said, and then his hips rolled, cock nudging at her opening.
Josie caught her breath, and she dragged Bell forward, pulling roughly at his mouth and smiling as he growled into the kiss. She pushed his hand away from her cunt and poised herself over the blunt head of his cock, teasing the tip of him with her wet skin. Bell’s hands danced up her back, cupping her head. He held her to him as he licked into her mouth, a steady purr emitting from his chest as they kissed. When Josie took him inside of her, just the first inch, the sound cut off abruptly. She bounced, sinking deeper, and opened her eyes to find his fixed on her face, their noses touching and gazes crossing slightly.
Her own flavor was on her lip, and Bell watched with rapt fascination as she licked it off. She released a slow sigh, body relaxing and fitting him further inside as his head bent, mouth hovering over hers.
“Are you focused?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Bell grinned. “A bit,” he admitted. His hands stroked down her back and around her front, cupping her breasts in a warm, calloused touch that made Josie hum and start her rise and fall, feeling the perfect intrusion of Bell stretching her open.
She took another kiss, sucked on Bell’s lips as he rocked into her until she’d taken him to the hilt. Their arms circled each other, mouths connecting with aimless tenderness. She leaned back, and Bell’s eyes landed on her stomach, his hands running down and covering the wounds. Josie’s breath hitched as the itching fizzled to nothing, and a tingling feather brush of power and heat covered the lines instead. When his hands parted, she had a shiny mark of his sigil remaining.
“I could heal that too, but I think I like it,” he said. The corner of his mouth hitched, and a lock of silver and black hung over his eyes. Josie’s heart stuttered in her chest, and she decided if she wanted the sigil gone, she could ask later.
Think of the circle, Josie, she reminded herself. Whatever they were doing now, it was for affection, not power. She pressed her palms to Bell’s chest and pushed him away, and he only smiled, eyes skimming over her hotly as he let her guide him down to the floor. His legs stretched out beneath them, and Josie gave herself a moment to savor the picture of him under her, black and silver hair fanning out around his head, stomach muscles twitching as she shifted over him.
“Concentrate,” Josie said, aiming for stern, and landing on breathless as she stared down at where they were joined, dragging herself slowly up his length.
When she slid down again, Bell hissed and she moaned. Heat flared at the end of her fingertips, prickling like a limb waking, and Josie repeated the action, swallowing hard as the sensation grew.
“Ride me,” Bell growled beneath her, his heels planting on the floorboards and hands grasping around her ribs.
Josie took the order, thighs straining as she bucked and twisted over him, hips circling and grinding as he sank in fully. When a gasp and moan escaped, and Bell thrust up, teeth gritted and thumbs flicking at her tight nipples, Josie took that as her cue to vocalize her approval. The more she moaned, the wilder Bell became beneath her, eyes lighting up and teeth sharpening. She covered his hand on her breast with her own, and showed him how to pull and tweak at her nipple, harsher than he had been, rewarding him with a tight cry and clench of her pussy around his cock.
With every stroke between them, the power hovered thicker in the air until it was dense and cloying. Josie’s breath was short, and the snap of her hips grew frantic, Bell answering her need with deep drives inside her. He gripped the back of her neck, holding her in place to take his pounding pace, and abandoned her breast to thumb clumsily over her clit. Josie rolled into the touch, their skin kissing wetly and voices harsh with gasps and grunts.
When she struggled to catch air, Josie planted her palms on Bell’s chest and watched his tattoos shimmer under her fingers. She let him drive them to a slow cascading end as she released out a long, spiraling keen of pleasure. Bell threw them to the side at the last second, and the weight of him on top of her, thumb grinding against her clit, made Josie snap. She scratched down Bell’s back, writhing beneath him as pleasure shattered through her, power blanketing around her until she thought she might suffocate. Bell snarled, mouth around her throat and hips kicking, and then he shuddered and sagged, clutching her tight to his chest.
His breath was damp and hot on her earlobe, and Josie twined her legs around his hips. He was still hard inside of her, and while physically she was toast, she realized there was something missing. She brushed her hands over his back and Bell trembled as the touch skimmed over his shoulder blades.
“Is that… is that where your wings were?” she asked. Bell nodded, pressing a wet kiss to the sharp corner of her jaw. “Does it hurt?”
“No,” he rasped. “Feels sorta like…like if you passed your hand through bone.”
That sounded like it would hurt, but who was she to judge? Josie moved her hands to his arms and turned her head to look at him. “I’m not satisfied, Mr. Bad News,” she said. Which was a lie, in a way. She’d never been that satisfied with any sexual partner before. Damnit, she’d never been that sexually satisfied with herself, and Josie kind of prided herself on her personal physical understanding.
Bell nodded, nose nuzzling her cheek. “I know, Cupcake.”
So Josie twisted in his hold, shivering at the slight shift of him inside of her, and reached back to smudge the edge of the chalk circle. As soon as it was broken, Bell surged up, Josie all twined around him as he
walked directly to the bed. As far as Josie was concerned, Bell’s best demonic skill was his ability to settle them gently onto her mattress on their sides without ever having to pull out of her.
What came next was slower, and softer, and somehow more secret than summoning a demon to her apartment for sex magic. Missionary was more or less out of the question—Bell was a mile taller than her—but he cradled her to him, arm under her neck, and her leg held over his hip as he struck a lazy rhythm inside of her.
“What’s demonic birth control like?” Josie wondered at one point, when they’d stalled nearly to stopping in favor of finding sensitive spots. (Josie was ticklish behind her knees, but if approached correctly, the area could lead her almost directly to orgasm. Bell attached himself to her like a barnacle when she bit him on the throat, rutting and grunting and shuddering like a beast.)
“I am demonic birth control,” Bell said. “Unless you summon me with a need for a litter of nephilim.”
“Umm. I’m good,” Josie said, uncertain of that word’s meaning.
They separated briefly, so Bell could roll her onto her stomach and then determinedly wedged himself between her closed legs—a fit so tight inside, Josie lost her voice entirely. Bell didn’t seem to have words either, but he nibbled kisses across her shoulders as he rocked inside her, until their hands were both fisted in the sheets around her head and their skin stuck with sweat. Josie came again, this time a syrupy, decadent, curling wave blanketing over her and leaving her limp. Bell released a bellowing groan against the back of her neck, a fizzle of heat running over Josie’s skin in response. Maybe demonic cum was just magic? The thought made her smile as Bell slid off her back and to her side, pulling her after him and wrapping his arm around her chest.
We’re fucking spooning, Josie thought in surprise, and then candles blinked out into darkness.
When she woke a handful of hours later, stomach roaring and reminding her she’d skipped dinner, Bell was gone.
Spooning is acceptable, but staying for breakfast is a step too far, Josie noted. That was alright. She didn’t need him gloating about the fact that she was walking bow-legged after their marathon sex. When she rummaged through her kitchen and found half her stash of brownies missing, she gave up fighting her grin and let it stretch wide across her lips.
The turnout to the Halloween circle in Merryweather Preserve was as big as Josie expected, and yet the crowd still somehow surprised her. Linda Love and Mrs. Montgomery and Mona Lin had organized a wide, pretty circle of solar lights to set a boundary between the coven and the observers. The woods were filling up with whispering locals, and Josie could tell by June’s stricken, frozen look that she was regretting ever coming up with the idea.
Shortly before the circle was scheduled to begin, Josie looked up the hill and saw Imogen standing beneath a street lamp. She wore one of the oversized sweaters June knitted for her, and dark blue jeans, and Josie didn’t know how to read the expression on the younger woman’s face. Fear or sorrow or disgust. All of it combined but gentled. Just when Josie thought Imogen would turn and retreat to her cabin, the witch came stomping down from the top of the hill, slipping through the crowd of onlookers to weave her way to the coven.
“Will the spell still work with an audience like this?” Josie asked her.
Imogen shrugged. “We’ll feel it if it doesn’t catch.” Then she took a second look at Josie with a keener stare. “Interesting choice. Bringing that magic with you for this work.”
Josie almost choked on air as she realized what Imogen meant. She’d been walking around all day feeling bloated with magic after her sex with Bell, she should’ve realized a witch like Imogen would see it seeping out of her pores.
“Will it mess anything up?” Josie whispered.
“No,” Imogen said, her gaze sort of sliding around Josie’s edges. “He didn’t corrupt it in any way. Surprising.”
And then she drifted off before Josie could quiz her further.
The coven took positions at the four cardinal directions. Josie stood at the south end of the circle, holding a candle in her hands and representing fire. Rosa was opposite of her, representing earth with a wreath of lavender and rosemary and bright marigold in her hands. June was in the east corner, sticks of incense in each hand for air, and Imogen stood across from her sister holding a chalice of water.
June had written a script for them, a sincere and elegant prayer-like spell to call out as their magic wove together and laid over the town of Sweet Pea, but before the chant came the building of the circle. After working as a coven for five years, it was easy and silent work to catch each other’s eyes, find a harmony of breathing together that would place them in sync with one another.
What Josie was less certain of was the influence of an audience. They usually worked in a close space together, hands connected. Here in the clearing of the preserve, they were spread wide apart, leaving room for the locals to stand outside and look in on them. Josie expected it to feel similar to delivering a school presentation, or having one of her old professors watch over her shoulder as she worked on a recipe.
Instead, as Josie found her breathing with her coven, she felt the connection of the circle traveling through the audience, not inside of them. The sensation was clearer than usual, probably because of her night with Bell, and Josie got faint reads off her coven—June’s focus, Rosa’s joy, Imogen’s expectant edge. Behind her, Mona caught her breath softly, and Josie suspected the woman felt the gentle buzz of energy as well. All around the clearing, eyes and faces were lighting up with excitement, even in the silent prelude to the magic. Rosa beamed across the small bonfire at Josie, and a soft, dazed, satisfaction came around the circle from both Byrne sisters.
The four witches stepped forward together, inhaling and exhaling as one, their feet and hearts moving to the same rhythm as they raised their hands and called the corners.
“And you know,” Linda Love continued to Josie, cheeks pink with soft embarrassment or the thrill of magic still raising the hairs on her arms. “If you need anything, you just let me and John know.”
“Of course,” Josie said, nodding and returning the fragile smile to Linda. She wouldn’t call in the favor, but since it was actually an apology, that was alright.
Linda nodded and turned back to the larger, mingling crowd of locals, giggling as she joined her friends at the buffet table. Josie’s chocolate croissants were long gone, and she was only a little miffed that she hadn’t gotten to enjoy one herself. Rosa was somewhere in the crowd still, probably with Cornell and Thurman, and Josie had a feeling the Byrne sisters had long since escaped the crush. The spell took, settling over Sweet Pea like a soft mist of good energy and safety, but even more so the townspeople had been made to feel a part of the ceremony. June was a good leader, even if she wasn’t great with people.
Josie retreated from the lingering party slowly, wary of catching another well-wisher’s attention. She was sure she’d shaken every local official’s hand at least twice.
The woods were quiet as she found the path back to the entrance, and it occurred to her that Merryweather Preserve had a less than safe reputation now after three murders in less than a month. Maybe it was exhaustion, or maybe the spell they’d just cast was working, because the only thing Josie felt while alone in the dark on her way out of the woods was peace.
She reached the edge and found a familiar shadow waiting, broad shoulders and the curtain of dark hair, sitting sideways on his bike and staring down at his boots.
“Huh,” she said, resisting the twitch of her smile as his head shot up on his shoulders. “Guess that anti-demon charm we just cast didn’t take, did it?”
Bell’s lips quirked. “Guess not.”
Josie took soft shuffling steps up to where Bell was parked. “Oh well. What are you doing here?”
Bell’s smile flickered, and his brow furrowed. “To be honest, Cupcake, I’m not quite sure. I’m still…”
“A demon?” Josie sugges
ted, and Bell nodded gravely. “I know.”
He still carried that warning air of smoke around him, that weighty aura that made his eyes glow dimly in the evening. She hadn’t tamed him with one night, she knew that.
“You want a ride home?” he asked, dropping the subject and moving on into murky waters.
Josie wondered what the appropriate amount of ‘playing it cool’ was with your new demon lover? If he could be called that. It was only the once, and she’d summoned him for the deed, not that he seemed to mind.
“Think you can come up with a scenic route?” she asked, deciding that if he could deny the serious problems between them, so could she. She stepped up to him, and even with him perched on the seat of his bike, she still had to rise to her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “I kinda like the feel of that machine running as I ride it.”
Bell huffed a laugh and then shrugged out of his leather jacket, sliding it over her shoulders. It was huge on her, but Josie slid her arms into the warm sleeves and pushed the cuffs back as Bell shifted to straddle the seat and kick off the balance stand.
“Come on, Cupcake. You can show me the twists and turns around here,” he said, and then he shifted as she climbed on behind him, and he leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I kinda like the way you wrap yourself around me while I drive.”
Josie debated cancelling the bike ride in favor of heading back to her apartment like he’d suggested in the first place, but she didn’t mind a little delayed gratification. And she really did love Bell’s bike. Bell started the engine with a roar, and Josie made sure to hold on extra tight as they took off down the quiet neighborhood street.
The Byrne sisters stood in front of their parents grave at midnight on Halloween, arms entwined around each other. Moonlight was stunningly bright overhead, trimming the headstones in silver and weaving strange patterns of shadows on the ground. It was chillier there in the dark and out of the cover of the woods, and Imogen tucked in closer to her sister as June wrapped her large sweater around them both.
