“You can and you have. Still your thoughts, listen, and you will have your answers.”
Sebastian remained silent and heard nothing but endless silence. He was about to shake his head when he thought he heard a whisper. He closed his eyes and focused on the soft sound, not straining to hear, simply listening.
We are part of each other, you and I.
His eyes popped open and he stared at her. “You play tricks.”
“No, I opened myself to you.”
Disappointment washed over him and he realized it belonged to Ali, his accusation causing it and it hurt him to know that he had caused her pain. It was a strange sensation being able to connect so strongly with her emotions. Strangely passionate.
“This is ridiculous,” he said, his practical side rearing its intolerable head.
“Why? Does it frighten you to be so intimately connected with a person that you can feel their every emotion?”
“It’s an intrusion,” he insisted, once again his sensible side responding.
“You can’t intrude where you are welcome.”
She had an answer for everything, which disturbed him all the more since she made sense in an odd sort of way, which led him to say, “Start at the beginning, Ali.”
She nodded and smiled, taking this chance to once again make him understand and accept. “I am a witch who needed to mate to restore my dwindling powers. I chose you, and when our eyes met I knew that only a special magical spell would do. You resisted at every turn, fighting the dreams, fighting your attraction, fighting what you don’t understand. Dagon provided me with an opportunity that would cause a confrontation and a decision. Are you ready to make that decision?”
“Dagon was a ploy? Never your nemesis? Never your destiny?”
Ali stood and walked over to him. “Need I remind you of your own words? Destiny is an accumulation of foolish or wise choices. I have chosen wisely. I have chosen you. Have you chosen?”
“I think I’m about to,” he whispered as she stopped directly in front of him.
She looked up at him, her green eyes brilliant in their intense color. “In your choice lies your destiny.”
“Nothing like a bit of pressure to help the decision process,” he said teasingly.
She ran her hand in a light, yet tempting touch down along his arm, to his hand, taking it in hers and bringing it along his arm, to his hand, taking it in hers and bringing it to rest against her breast over her heart. “You have my heart, but our souls are yet to touch.”
She moved to kiss him but his hand caught her chin in a firm grasp. “You have tormented me since we first met.”
“The choice was and still is yours.”
“I want more,” he murmured and brushed his lips over hers.
“I will give you all I can,” she said, her mouth yearning for his.
He would not allow her to taste him, not yet. “I want magic. I want to feel it all, share it all, and I want the same from you.”
“I think you ask for the magic of love,” she said softly.
He ran his lips across hers lingering, teasing, tempting. “Are you willing to give it?”
She eased her chin from his grasp and whispered as her lips skimmed across his. “You have always had it.”
“I must be crazy to even consider—”
“Making love to a crazy witch?”
He grabbed her by the arms and gave her a gentle shake. “You will cast no spells, sprinkle no dust, and wag no finger.”
“Magical love requires no such help.”
He shook his head. “I must be insane.”
She stepped back and held her hand out to him. “Feel what I feel, Sebastian.”
He took her hand without question. Her touch was gentle and warm, and a tingle rippled up his arm spreading slowly, patiently, like a ripple often does until it encompasses all it surrounds. Heat followed, tender warmth that tickled his skin and turned it hot, so hot that every sensation in his body was magnified. His heart raced wildly, his pulse beat erratically and his breath caught in his chest, leaving him almost breathless. This was Ali’s passion. This is what she was feeling.
An involuntary moan escaped his lips, and he pulled Ali against him, his arms locking around her. “This is what you feel for me?” he asked incredulously.
She buried her face in his chest, attempting to control the unbridled desire that ran through her. “This is how you make me feel.”
“It hurts,” he said, his breath short and rapid.
“Then end my torture,” she pleaded, tilting her head back to look into his dark eyes filled with her unrequited passion.
Denying himself was a brief consideration, denying her was not an option. He swung her up into his arms and with a quick urgent kiss to her waiting lips, he carried her off to his bedroom.
o0o
He set her down by the bottom of the king-sized bed and stepped away to turn on the bedside light.
“No,” he said abruptly, seeing her about to undress. “I want to take your clothes off piece by piece. You are a gift I will enjoy unwrapping.”
He walked over to her, ridding himself of his shirt and tossing it to the chair as he went.
“I don’t get to unwrap you?” she asked, disappointed, her eyes admiring his taut chest and her fingers eager to free him of his shorts.
He shook his head and slowly ran his hands beneath her white top. “You are my gift.”
“And you’re mine—” she gasped when his fingers unsnapped the front of her bra and gently cupped and squeezed her full breasts.
“One gift per person, per night,” he instructed, playfully, his thumbs teasing her nipples.
Speech was difficult, though she attempted a response. “Then tomorrow night—oh!” She gasped again, his tongue having replaced his thumbs.
He pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it aside along with her bra. His tongue continued its erotic play while his hands worked on the button and zipper to her shorts.
Her short gasps and lingering moans heightened his already raging passion not to mention the taste of her nipples so warm and responsive against his tongue.
He moved his mouth over hers in a rushed kiss, giving her no time to taste him. Instead his lips brushed near her ear, and his whisper sounded like a harsh urging so great was his need for her. “I’m going to touch every inch of you.”
With that said his hand stroked down along the band of her shorts, past the open zipper, and beneath her white silk panties. Slowly his fingers moved along her stomach and down over her soft mound to come to rest between her legs.
“Are you ready, Ali?” he murmured, his breath warm against her face.
Anticipation raced goose bumps across her sensitive skin, and she found herself speechless, her answer coming in the form of a shiver.
His finger worked its way inside her, his free hand tenderly forcing her legs to part wider for him.
His breath grew rapid in her ear and matched her own wild breathing. “So wet and so beautiful. I want to feel more of you.”
With deliberate slowness, yet exquisite skill, he inserted another finger.
Ali couldn’t think, could barely breath, especially when his thumb explored and discovered her tiny nub of intimacy, coaxing the little bud to life.
Her head collapsed on his chest, and after several more strokes that turned her legs to jelly, he stopped, lifted her in his arms and gently laid her on the bed. He then proceeded to divest her of her shorts and panties.
She lay naked, subdued by passion. She watched him discard his remaining clothes and she sighed at the naked sight of him. He was simply magnificent. He possessed tight, round buttocks, firm, sturdy legs, a slim waist, a defined chest, and a manhood that brought a wide smile of admiration to her lips.
“You drive me insane,” he said, moving over her.
His skin was hot and his arousal hard against her. His passion raged on the brink of explosion, and she sensed the battle he fought to control so that he
could bring her pleasure.
“I want to feel you,” she said with urgency.
He obliged her without question, raising himself slightly off her and rubbing intimately against her.
She lifted her body in invitation, and his strokes grew bolder.
He dropped his mouth to hers, capturing a fleeting kiss.
“You torment me,” she cried and pulled away before she could taste him.
“I like to play, punish, pleasure,” he said with a wicked grin and reached for her mouth again.
A swift taste was all she got before his mouth descended on her nipple. Quick nips, a lingering tongue, and the sensitive bud disappeared entirely into his mouth where he continued to have his way with it.
Ali moaned with pleasure and waiting to give the same in return, she slipped her hand down his body, exploring slowly and teasingly until she grasped a firm, intimate hold on him... then she squeezed.
He groaned and swore savagely at her tenacious capture.
She laughed and nipped lovingly at his slim lips swollen with passion. She relished in the lust-filled taste of him.
“You will pay for that, you witch,” he said and kissed her with harshness bordering on punishment. A punishment they both favored.
Their passion surged, their touches turned frantic, demanding, and impatient. Their need so long denied had turned into a driving force that knew no boundaries. Their bodies soared beyond reason, past sanity, to the brink of magic.
Before they could take that step beyond, Ali had to make certain that he understood who she was.
She whispered breathlessly in his ear, “I am a witch.”
Sebastian took her mouth with an angry hunger, but not before saying, “I know that you’re a witch.”
Chapter Nineteen
My witch.
The words echoed in her mind briefly. There was no time to comprehend his meaning. She was lost in passion, in her love for this mortal man.
He moved to lock her fingers with his and she protested.
“I want to touch you as you enter me,” she said, her hand making its way down his waist to once again take hold.
He shook his head. “I don’t have a shred of sanity left.”
She grinned, her hand stroking him and her body moving invitingly against him.
He indulged her and himself with brief, short stokes until she reiterated with a demand of her own.
Passion warring, he reached down, firmly placing his hand over hers. “Playtime is over.”
With his hand locked over hers, he forced her to join him as he slowly entered her. They moaned simultaneously, their fingers locking and sliding away together from where their bodies continued to join as one—
The magic took over from there... magic as old as time. Magic that consumed and devoured. And soon reason and sanity were completely stripped away and they found themselves lost... lost in the magic of love.
Time lost all reality. There was only the two of them forever united by this special moment. Their bodies blended as one, their tempo frenzied, and their desires raging.
Her head fell back, her fingers dug into his arms, and she cried out her release with his name spilling in agonizing pleasure from her lips.
He joined her, their elated cries circling above and bursting to rain down over them as they spiraled like the flight of mating eagles to the earth and back to reality and the consequences of their surrender.
o0o
Ali lay replete and complete in his arms. Sebastian had rolled off her and pulled her against him, their breathing still rapid and their bodies damp and exhausted.
She relished this quiet moment in his arms. Words weren’t necessary. His touch was and he gave of it freely, his hand stroking her arm and his leg draped over hers. She was content to lie like this—
The surge ran through her like energy gone wild, and her body jolted against the surprise attack.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned, his hand rushing down over her stomach. “Are you in pain?”
“No,” she lied, “a sudden chill.”
He wasted no time in seeing to her need. He reached down, dragging the sheet and blanket that had been shoved to the end of the bed up and over them.
“Better?”
“Much,” she said, snuggling back in the crook of his waiting arms. And waiting, this time prepared for the second wave of energy that would hit her momentarily.
She had completely forgotten about her returning energy. She should have been prepared, but then she hadn’t expected the surge to be that powerful, at least not the first time.
Their union had generated more energy than she anticipated. The second surge started with a tingling numbness in her feet and rushed like a bolt of electricity straight through her.
She smiled with the joy it brought her, and she cuddled closer to Sebastian. He had given her more than he would ever know tonight, and she was forever grateful and forever in love.
The surges would continue for the next few hours until the last one, which would feel more like a gentle lapping wave, and then it would be done. Her powers would be fully restored, and she would once again be herself... an empowered witch.
Sebastian turned, rolling Ali on her back. He looked her directly in her stunning green eyes, their usual brilliance softened by their lovemaking, and he slowly ran a finger gently down her cheek. “You are not only a beautiful woman; you are an extraordinary lover.”
His sincere words brought a smile of pleasure to her lips. She raised her hand to stroke his brow, caress his cheek, and skim his lips. “You, my darling, are unique.”
“How so?” he asked, capturing her finger with his lips to taste briefly and release it.
She grinned at his playfulness and at the surge of energy that raced over her. “You know how to make magic.”
“And magic is special.”
“You learn quickly,” she said, hoping he spoke the truth, hoping he believed.
His tone turned serious. “I know what we have is special.”
“Very special,” she agreed.
He had not expected this tenacious possessiveness to take such a powerful hold of him. He only knew that he wanted Ali forever and always. He had never made love and felt so completely connected with a woman. It was as though she was part of him and he was part of her and that neither could survive without the other.
Was this true love? This feeling of need so compelling it bordered on pain? Or was it as Ali said, magic?
That word jolted him back to the reality of the situation.
Ali took his face in her hands. “Tonight, Sebastian, there is only you and me. The world doesn’t exist.”
She was asking him for one night, one night when nothing mattered but them.
He smiled and whispered in her ear, “Let’s make magic.”
o0o
They were sitting on the floor naked, Sebastian’s back braced against the end of the bed and Ali cuddled in his arms. A bright yellow tablecloth was spread out in front with remnants of a well-enjoyed snack left on it. A bottle of Malbec sat empty as the two lovers sipped the last of the wine.
“Are you always so hungry after making love?” he teased. “Because I’ll be certain to keep my refrigerator full.”
She playfully pinched his leg. “It takes energy to make magic three times in one night.” She was afraid to admit to him that her resurgence of powers also generated her outrageous appetite.
He laughed, discarded his empty glass and slipped his hands around her waist to slowly run down over her stomach and settle intimately between her legs. “The night is still young.”
Ali snuggled against him, wishing she could hold on to this one night forever. The last few hours had been magic. They made love, laughed, napped, ate, joked, and never once spoke of reason or witches. They lived in a magical world where only they existed. They had a few precious hours left, and she didn’t want to waste a minute.
“Only two in the morning.”
“So much time,” he whispered, nibbling along her neck.
“All the time in the world,” she agreed and gasped when his fingers slipped inside her to work his magic.
o0o
Ali lay sleeping against him, her naked body damp and blushed from their recent bout of lovemaking. He hadn’t been able to get enough of her. With each fiery climax he thought himself finished, replete, and then she would touch him, kiss him, or he would touch her, and all would be lost once again.
He had surrendered his soul to this woman and she had surrendered her soul to him. He loved her more than he ever thought possible, more than he believed was ever possible, and he knew, actually felt, her intense love for him. It was crazy, but wonderful.
But what if —
He refused to think about what-ifs. Tonight was time for magic, not logic. Tomorrow would be soon enough to face reality. Practicality reared its impatient head, and he allowed himself to reason for a moment, only a moment. If she was a witch—a preposterous idea but one he considered—then her powers would have been restored from all their frantic lovemaking. Yet here she lay quietly sleeping. No flying objects, no flying people, no strange occurrences, so reason would lead him to believe that perhaps she was a bit eccentric. Eccentric he could deal with.
He looked at her and smiled, feeling relieved.
She stretched; she did that often in her sleep, slow like a cat, each limb reaching out, her back arching.
He groaned. Damn if he didn’t want her again. He ordered himself not to touch her. They had made love so many times, she was sure to be sore and yet...
His hands itched to touch her, stroke her. Once. Just once. His hand reached out and starting at her throat, he stroked slowly and lovingly down her receptive body
“Sebastian,” she sighed softly.
“Yes, love?” he asked, kissing her gently while his hands continued to explore her.
“Not fair,” she protested with a groan. “I want my turn on you.”
“Tomorrow, love. Tomorrow, I’m all yours,” he promised with a kiss.
“Tomorrow,” she repeated in a whisper and surrendered to his exquisite touch.
The Wedding Spell Page 15
