The Family Spells: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance

by C. M. Stunich

  "Right. Craft day, and then we have that parents-and-me playdate thing on Monday … So, we’ll have to schedule his spell for Sunday, and head to Hael on Tuesday."

  "Tuesday," I said, reaching up to scratch at my throat with inked fingers. "And Halloween is the day after. That doesn’t give us a lot of time." Graceley looked like she was about ten seconds away from having a panic attack, so I reached out and took her by the shoulders, kneading her flesh until I felt a little bit of the tension leak out of her. "Everything is going to be okay; I was just taking note."

  "If we fail on our first run, then we’re fucked." She exhaled and stepped in close to me, letting me curl my arms around her and hold her close. Her blood smelled so good, her pulse ran so hot … I was trying to resist, but I was starving.

  “If we fail on our run, we’ll probably be dead, so what would it matter?”

  Grace snorted at me, even though that wasn’t really a joke. I was dead serious.

  "Can you help me pick out a dress and a hat for tonight?" she whispered, and I nodded, smoothing my fingers through her hair. "Spec, I'm freaking out."

  "We'll save your mom, Grace." She pulled away and looked up at me, lips pursed.

  "Not just about Mom, but … everything. I feel completely overwhelmed with the coven, the store, the kids, and I feel like I've been a bad wife—"

  "Never," I snapped, more harshly than I intended. I cupped the side of Grace's face and leaned my forehead against hers, staring into the emerald green of her eyes, soaking up the smooth, porcelain lines of her face. "Don't ever think that. If I have a problem, I'll come talk to you about it. And you know Caine and Argent are vocal as fuck when something’s wrong."

  "Spec," she started, but I cut her off with a kiss. She tasted like strawberries, sugar, and cream. I could taste the bitter bite of witch, that metallic tingle in the back of my throat. I swept my arms around her small waist, tangling our tongues together. I could kiss this woman until the end of time, I swear to fuck. "Are you hungry?" she whispered, when we broke apart for breath.

  "Starving," I admitted, pushing her hair back from her pale neck and leaning down to lick the hopping jump of her pulse. I kissed and teased her flesh, nicking her with my teeth. I only fed on Grace, Caine, and Argent now. That's it. But holy fuck, Grace tasted so damn good. I’d choose her over them any damn day of the week.

  My mouth closed over the hot heat of Graceley’s neck, my teeth piercing that pale skin and making her cry out. My mouth filled with that delicious metallic burn, and we both groaned—me in pleasure, and her in pain. At first … But then I licked and sucked and teased her, and the vamp pheromones took over, heating her blood up to a boil.

  Grace rubbed against me, the softness of her breasts pressing against the hard planes of my chest. I could feel her nipples pebbling to firm points, and my ears picked up the husky whisper of her breath like it was on a radar.

  "Oh Grace," I murmured against her skin, feeling my own body respond to her heat, her warmth, the feel of her wiggling against me as I sucked the hot heat of her blood into my mouth, felt it scald my throat, reveled in the life-giving property of that crimson rush.

  As it usually did, the feeding quickly became sexual, and I soon pushed Grace against the glass and wood counter where the register sat. The store was closed, the front doors locked … there was nothing stopping us from taking this all the way.

  I pushed Grace's little, black dress up her creamy thighs, and rocked the hardened bulge in my leather pants against her silken panties. The sounds she made … fuck, I would never get enough of those, not even if we lived for centuries together.

  According to Argent, who had lived with our previous incarnations for years, it was never enough.

  I believed him.

  I unbuttoned and unzipped my leather pants, pushing aside my wife's panties to find her slick, warm heat.

  "Whoa there, cowboy," Caine chuckled, sauntering out of the back room with a box full of incense. I turned slowly to the left to glare at him, narrowing my eyes and flashing my bloody fangs in challenge.

  "Hello boys," Grace purred as Argent emerged from the shadows, his silver skin glowing in the dark, cozy interior of the shop. "Care to join us?"

  I groaned, and buried by face in the sweet–smelling spot between Grace's neck and shoulder. But I was only joking, a foursome with the boys sounded pretty good right now. Hell, maybe we even needed this to bond as a family? With all of this bullshit that had been going on lately—Abigail's curse, Hex’s appearance, the demon attack on our house—we could use a little solidarity.

  "I wouldn't say no to that ‘less I were dead, and buried six feet under." Caine set the box down, slipped his flannel shirt onto the floor, and made his way over to us, smelling like sweat from moving all those boxes in the basement. We were all half-positive it was fucking haunted down there.

  I stepped back, groaning as I separated my hard cock from Grace's slick, throbbing heat. She slid down off of the counter, her dress falling back into place.

  "You know," Argent said, taking a few careful steps back. He pulled aside the curtain that led to the stockrooms and the basement. "The apartment upstairs is still vacant ..."

  Grace grinned and grabbed both me and Caine by the hands, pulling us along after Argent and up the stairs.

  Supernatural wind ruffled her hair as Grace laughed, and let her magic bubble over and out. Sometimes, on a late night when Cain, Argent, and I found ourselves alone in the kitchen, we'd talk about Grace and all the things we loved about her.

  There seemed to be a consensus on a few things: her hilariously short temper, her random bursts of clumsiness contrasted with those moments of epic, ironclad control, and … her unadulterated joy. Grace still knew how to be a kid, and she knew how to have fun, how to revel in her magic.

  That's exactly what she was doing now, as she took us upstairs to the small apartment that we often rented out to apprentices. Mahou had recently moved in with her boyfriend, so the place was empty. Someone (probably Caine) had forgotten to replace the flue in the fireplace, so the floor was covered in red, brown, and orange leaves, and the furniture was covered in white sheets.

  Grace crunched her way across the leaves and threw open the French doors that led onto the balcony. The fickle, autumn air swirled into the room, stirring up the debris and mixing with the gentle rustle of Graceley’s magic.

  "You ran all the way up here with your hard cock bouncing around?" Cain asked with a roar of raucous laughter. I rolled my eyes, and ignored him as Argent snapped his fingers and lit a fire in the old fireplace. He glanced over his shoulder to exchange a private look with Grace, and I felt them making silent reference to a moment I hadn't been privy to. Exchanges like this used to bother me, but not anymore. Because I learned that love was not a pie with a set number of slices to hand out, but rather an endless well that was always overflowing and ready to give.

  I moved over to stand beside Grace–yes, with my hard–ass cock bouncing around–and slid my arm around her waist as we looked out at the small garden behind the shop. There was a single maple tree, with just a few stubborn leaves clinging to its bare branches. Flanking it were two evergreen trees dressed in purple witch hat lights. Those weren't even for Halloween, believe it or not; we left them up year-round.

  "Did you see how easily Hex wielded my magic last night?" Grace asked, as she glanced over at me. She bit her lower lip and flicked her eyes back towards the garden, and the nearly empty flower beds. Come spring, those beds would be full of tulips, but for now, they lay quiet and sleeping under an autumn storm.

  "I saw," I said quietly, pulling her into my arms. Generally, when a witch from one coven tried to use the magic of a witch from another, the spells were much less effective. That hadn't happened with Hex; his magic was sympathetic to Grace's. I also noticed how excited she was, even if she tried to deny it. I couldn't tell if Caine and Argent were picking up on it, but Grace wanted Hex.

 
She wanted him—but she was never going to get him.

  Somehow, even though I didn’t want him in the family, that made me sad.

  “Come.” I took Grace by the hand and pulled her over to one of the sheet–covered couches where Caine was already waiting.

  "How much time do we have 'fore Mahou comes back with the kids?" Caine growled, pulling Grace onto his lap. He’d already taken a moment to shed his clothes, ever the nudist that one. I think it was a werewolf thing. Even though Caine had grown up in a fringe pack with some serious shame issues, he couldn't shake the natural instinct to want to be naked.

  I watched his hands curl around my wife’s hips, and swallowed hard against a mix of jealousy and lust—this was a moment for all of us, and I knew that. You know how couples have their favorite positions? Well, so do groups of four. We'd done a lot of experimenting during our marriage, and this is what worked for us.

  "Plenty," Argent purred, undoing the brown, leather breeches he was wearing. He wore the most old-fashioned shit I'd ever seen, but managed to pull it off. Although some of his faerie clothes were downright bizarre—like a shirt made entirely of spiderwebs. No thank you.

  Grace looked up at him as he stepped closer, curling her fingers under the waistband of his pants and helping to pull them down his hips. The funny thing was, Argent's cock glowed just like the rest of him. But nobody was laughing when Grace wrapped her pale fingers around his shaft and leaned forward to press a kiss to the tip. She let a small amount of saliva drip from between her lips onto Argent's dick, and began to work him with her hand.

  Another trick we picked up over our five years of marriage was this: always carry a little lube. And that particular trick came in handy a lot–most especially when one was married to such a horny group of witches. So, in the pocket of my pants, I had a small packet of watermelon flavored lubricant.

  Lucky me.

  Caine growled and shoved Grace's dress up her hips, pushing aside her panties so he could tease her folds with his cock. She groaned, rocking against him, and leaning forward with her palms on his chest. Argent stood at the end of the couch, propping his right knee up on the armrest, and putting himself at the perfect height for Grace to take him between her lips.

  I stood there for a moment, watching her swallow him deep, her heavy lids closing over her green eyes in bliss as Caine pushed himself inside of her. The wind swirled outside, blowing wet leaves into the room, but I didn't bother to close the doors. There was this charged energy to the air, yet another promise of more autumn storms, and it felt too good against my heated skin. So, I simply admired the way Grace moved, this feminine goddess who could enthrall three very different men with a single laugh, a single smile.

  Caine gripped her hips as she began to ride him, using her left hand to brace herself, and her right to tease Argent's shaft and balls while she sucked on him. When her eyes flicked up to mine, I knew she wanted me to join them.

  Running my tongue across my lower lip, I stepped forward and climbed onto the couch. I straddled Cain's legs, but nestled myself between Grace's open thighs. Using two fingers, I slipped the packet of lube from my pocket and opened it, squirting a generous amount onto my palm. I worked the liquid down my shaft with strong hard jerks of my fist, just before I moved to put a single finger inside of Grace.

  As I slipped it into her ass, I could feel Cain's cock thrusting wildly as he bucked his hips upward, and Grace’s full, ripe breasts bounced with the movement. I leaned forward, and pressed my lips to her already bloodied neck, flicking my tongue across the wound and then biting down hard to make a new one. Hot, fresh blood surged into my mouth, and I swallowed it with a groan.

  A second finger soon made its way in, teasing Grace's sensitive opening with little come-hither motions. While I pleasured her with one hand, I jerked myself off with the other until I felt like I was more likely to come on her instead of inside of her.

  No way was that happening.

  Sliding my fingers out of Grace made her groan, and I knew she was ready for more. I took hold of my shaft with that same hand and guided myself inside of her. I didn't thrust deep and fast, instead moving my hips forward inch by painful inch.

  "Dear sweet, good goddess," Caine growled as our cocks rubbed that thin, sensitive wall of flesh between Grace’s two openings. With both of us inside of her, it was unbelievably tight. I could already feel sweat trailing down my spine, dripping from my chin to my chest. My shirt was soaked.

  "Don't stop," Argent ordered, putting his hand on the back of Grace's head and encouraging her to keep going. I saw his own head fall back, his eyes close. His magic lit up the room, the silver glow of his skin intensifying as he neared his climax. When he came, it was with a very triumphant sound of male pleasure that both infuriated me … and turned me on a little.

  I picked up the pace, thrusting hard and fast against Grace's pale, white ass. Her flesh jiggled as I buried myself deep, inadvertently pleasuring Caine at the same time I was pleasuring our wife. He started cursing, and I knew that he was close, so I made him suffer by slowing down on purpose.

  "The fuck are you you doing?" he snarled at me, his voice more animal than human. I ignored him, sucking hard enough on Grace's throat that I knew I'd probably leave a few hickeys. The bite wound would seal up from the healing properties in my saliva, but I wasn't a full-blooded vampire, and usually a hickey or two remained if I got too vigorous. The fingers of my inked hand slid down Grace's front until I found her swollen clit. She arched her back, pressing her ass into me and encouraging me to keep going.

  My fingers worked Graceley into a frenzy as she swallowed Argent's cum, and he stumbled back, collapsing into another chair. Grace's slick muscles naturally throbbed and tightened around me and Caine, encouraging us toward our own climaxes. I'd be damned if I finished before the asshole werewolf though.

  My hips moved at a more frantic pace, and I heard Caine cry out in pleasure just before Grace let out a little whimper of her own. Finally, I felt safe enough to let myself go completely, slamming into her with a few, final animalistic thrusts.

  Just as I was coming though, I happened to see some movement out of the corner of my eye. There was something on the porch railing—and it was watching us. It looked like a giant friggin’ owl, but I knew in an instant that it was a demon.

  I didn't even have to say anything: Argent was observant enough to notice the fear in my face, and he was up with his pants buttoned, and over at the door before I was finished spilling my seed.

  "What the hell is that?" Grace snapped after I pulled out of her, panting and shaking from the rush of adrenaline. Caine didn’t look much more able-bodied than I was.

  Graceley, though, she stood up and rushed over to stand beside Argent. The demon flapped huge, feathered wings and took off before either of them had a chance to cast anything. It did, however, look back at us with four huge, round, yellow eyes, opening its beak to let out a screech before it disappeared into the clouds.

  "Was that a demon watching us fuck?" Grace whispered as I grit my teeth, reached up, and ran my hand across my lips, smearing her blood across my face.

  "Yeah, it witching was," I snarled, my heart beating frantically in my chest. As a member of Coven Apothecary, it wasn't unusual to see a demon every now and again, but this many, this close together?

  The weirdness that started with the attack on the house had just left the realm of coincidence for me.

  I smelled a plot.

  Even if it was just dinner with my mother, I wanted to look nice—especially after getting banged by all three of my husbands.

  Oops.

  Now I was running behind, but I couldn't stop the fucking dress-up montage in front of my mirror. All three husbands and all four kids were piled on our massive bed, watching me.

  "Do you like the purple?" I asked, smoothing my palms down the front of my dress. Not only would my mother be watching and critiquing me, but so would my sister, her two husbands,
and … I was not dressing up for Hex. I wasn’t.

  "You're ethereal in whatever you wear," Argent said, holding two puppies in his arms. And the twins had been dressed so nicely, too … But at least I knew I wouldn't be the only one with naked kids tonight. My sister's kids would probably be in tiger form at least part of the time.

  I stared at myself in the flouncy purple dress with the black tulle underneath, the black sash, and the little lace border at the neckline. With the purple hat and purple shoes and purple purse … it was too much.

  "I look like a goddess-damned purple people eater," I said, staring at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door. "You guys were going to let me go out looking like the purple people eater!"

  "Mommy's a purple people eater," Zavier said with a laugh, falling back into Caine's arms. He started singing the song then, and Fey followed along with him. Nope. Nope. No.

  "Oh, come on, Grace, you look hot in whatever," Caine growled, ruffling up Zavier's and Fey's hair with two of his giant hands. I ignored him and dropped my dress to the floor. The kids were used to seeing me in my underwear. They'd still come in the bathroom with me if I didn't lock it ten times. But when Zavier started asking why I was bleeding from my potty place … nope. Fucking done with that shit. I'd like to have my menstrual flow in fucking peace, thank you very much.

  I picked out a black sheath dress with orange bats on it.

  Hmm.

  "It’s just not right …"

  Spectre chuckled at me as I shed that next and went for a bloodred trumpet dress with black lace on the bottom. It was very Morticia Addams, minus the black. I stole the sash from the purple dress, chucked the purple shoes and hat, and then grabbed a black hat to pair with my Louis Vuittons.