A Witch's Harem: Reverse Harem Fantasy

by Savannah Skye

  It was a fiery ache, one that emboldened my hands to explore upwards, tracing past Mick’s six-pack and up to his broad, sturdy chest. A soft groan escaped him and his hands stilled.

  I froze, wondering if I’d gone too far and also what the hell I was doing… Then Mick swept off his tank and rolled us over so that I was under him. His green eyes burned into mine.

  “This will keep you warm all night long,” he murmured, his body pushed me deep into the mattress and covered every inch of me. Something hard nudged my stomach and my face flamed. I hadn’t meant to give him an erection. Or had I? “If that’s okay, that is…”

  “It is,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his broad torso. “Mick…”

  Our lips met and it was a delicious, dreamy kind of kiss. One that swirled my thoughts into a meaningless spiral of color and light, as logic evaporated. I was giving in to the hunger inside of me, the hunger Mick wanted to sate.

  We kissed like this for a while, comforting and sweet, but then the strokes of his tongue became teasing. Teasing turned into desperation. And that was dangerous.

  Dangerous because I was arching up into Mick and demanding more. His hands slipped inside of my camisole, rough fingers exploring up and down my back.

  Not enough.

  Mick was tracing across my stomach, to my ribs and sternum. Across my collarbones, shoulders, and arms. My skin seemed a million times more sensitive than usual and I gasped out loud when a thumb flicked over a breast, the nipple instantly going hard.

  His hands found both, massaging and squeezing without mercy. I was shaking, sliding my feet up his calves and trying to wrap my legs around his waist. But I couldn’t focus, only hold on.

  Now Mick was kissing my neck and I was gasping, lost in a spiral of bliss and heat. My camisole vanished and his teeth latched on to a sensitive nipple, making me cry out. His fingers traced down my stomach, teasing over my panties and I bucked against him.

  “Mm, now you’re warmed up, but I think I can do one better,” Mick whispered, giving me a fierce kiss. “Chase away all those nighttime terrors.”

  His lips trailed down between my breasts to my stomach. Meanwhile, his fingers were still teasing over my panties and I shivered as my panties vanished as well.

  Forcing my eyes open, I looked down to see Mick’s head between my legs and I let out a moan as he tasted me. Head falling back, toes curling, every nerve was centered on that tongue laving my center. Expertly brushing the walls. Drawing patterns that had me crying out. Then his thumb brushed against my clit and my fingers gripped his hair.

  “Mick, oh, oh,” I gasped. “Yes, please, yes.”

  A cool breath blew on my molten core and I writhed, panting in pure ecstasy. Everything had fallen away but Mick.

  Mick, whose full attention was honed in on me and only me. Mick, with his tongue nudging against the place that ached most. Mick, driving me out of my mind with need. I had all of his focus, all of him, he was mine and I reveled in it.

  Savored these luxurious moments as I began to get closer and closer.

  Tongue and fingers worked me, the best kind of magic, and pressure built in my belly. Pleasure, curling outward and dragging me toward the abyss.

  “Oh, god!” I tossed my head back and forth as he sucked hard, groaning as he drew on my clit and slid his finger deep inside me.

  That was all it took. I came hard, calling out Mick’s name as I jerked and shuddered around his finger and bucked against that mouth. It was the best orgasm I’d ever had.

  Dimly, I heard Mick chuckle as he kissed one of my thighs and then the other before crawling up beside me. “You feeling better?”

  “You have no idea,” I whispered, my breath still short and my pulse still racing.

  “I’ve got an inkling,” he teased in my ear, his lips brushing against my neck and sending a shudder through me. My camisole and panties suddenly reappeared. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. I almost came myself.”

  “Oh, Mick,” I started to say, knowing he’d denied himself.

  “Sh, you’re all tuckered out,” Mick said, pulling me against his broad chest and draping an arm across my stomach. “Sleep, I’ll live.” He chuckled in my ear. “Make it up to me another time.”

  I wanted to argue, but then he was stroking a hand over my forehead in gentle caresses, luring me toward slumber. So comfortable. So safe, held tight in Mick’s arms.

  It felt good.

  It felt right.

  It felt like home.

  Chapter 12

  When I woke up the next morning, I was hugging a pillow and it took me a moment to remember where I was. Raising my head, I saw the elegant headboard, the fairy glass, and bookshelves. It all came back to me. As did last night.

  Oh. Oh my, I thought to myself, my legs rubbing together at the memory of Mick’s hands and uh, tongue. Damn, that was incredible, I thought, wondering why he’d left.

  Sitting up, I thought I knew why and I pulled my knees together, wrapping my arms around them. I’d given in to something I shouldn’t have. I’d led Mick on. The urge to flee filled me. Bright red, I buried my head on my arms and shuddered. How mortifying.

  I was completely all over the place with the O’Sullivans. Ogling Seamus, kissing Patrick and Michael, well, okay, he kissed me, and then all but having sex with Mick? What was wrong with me?

  Nothing, said a breezy, carelessly confident voice in my head. You want all of them.

  My face went even hotter, but a calm surety came over me.

  I did.

  And I cared, with all of my heart, about each of them.

  What if today could be different?

  The thought came out of nowhere. What if it could? What if I could? What if I could believe in myself for a change? Be as strong as those four gorgeous and brave men thought I could be?

  Raising my head, I thought about it and was instantly fired up. I would be.

  I had to wipe my mother’s words and all those negative thoughts from my mind. Start fresh.

  If I was going to succeed and save my witch brethren, then I needed to gain some self-confidence. If I was sure I was going to fail, then I surely would. I had to win against the opponent who was even more dangerous than some slumbering, crazy warlock bent on world domination.

  Me.

  Swinging out of bed, I marched to the closet and yanked it open. Assuming the Wonder Woman pose with my head held high, I forced myself to look at the outfits I’d told myself yesterday I couldn’t wear. Today was a new day. I’d choose the most badass outfit in here.

  I found it. It was a blank tank top with flashy gold studs decorated on it like stars and a short black skirt that poofed out around my knees. It slid over my butt perfectly and the tank showed off the right amount of cleavage. Pulling on tough-looking combat boots that went to my knees, I then fastened a cloak around my shoulders. Finally, I found some black eyeliner and flicked on a cat-eye. The witch in the mirror had a dangerous edge to her smile and her red hair was a fiery, glorious mess of curls. I grinned and she grinned back.

  That’s right. You’re one badass savior, Sadie Matheson.

  Striding to the door, I danced downstairs with my head held high and back straight. I was on a mission to believe in myself as much as the guys did.

  They thought I was smart, sexy and awesome. But all that meant nothing if I didn’t.

  Flinging open the dining room doors, I announced, “I’m doing this. Let’s get started.”

  I glanced around the table. Patrick had his chin on his hand, gazing at me with an intense expression. Seamus was beaming and there was admiration in his gray eyes as he looked me over. Mick looked stunned and couldn’t take his eyes off me.

  But Michael merely said, “Why don’t you eat first?”

  “Oh,” I said, as my stomach rumbled. “Good point.”

  However, as I walked around the table, I noticed him swallow hard and he gave me a sexy smirk as I sat down.

  “Once you
’re done, I’d be happy to volunteer my services, Sadie,” Michael said.

  Quickly, I ate breakfast and gulped down coffee, not wanting to lose the rush pounding through my veins. The conversation was light and flowed easily. There was a camaraderie growing between us and I found I fit in well with these four cousins. To my relief, too, Mick seemed fine. In fact, when no one was looking, he sent me a knowing wink and I sent one back.

  Once I was done, Michael brought me to the training room behind the library, while the rest of the guys went off to investigate Skinner’s statue. Today, the room looked different. Bigger and lighter, with a lot more windows.

  “The room is adaptable to our needs,” Michael explained, noticing my intrigued gaze. “Nice catch. So, today, let's try to improve something that seems basic but is often not. And don’t worry if you don’t get it right away, most magic users struggle with this.”

  He made a motion like he was throwing something and a piece of paper fluttered through the air before bursting into a thousand fiery butterflies. I gasped in delight, spinning around to watch as they flew through the room.

  “Now watch,” Michael instructed and twisted his wrist. A shadow-like whip sang through the air and they all vanished in a second. “This is spellbinding, or the art of defensive magic. Canceling out an enchantment.” His expression became grave. “I’m sure you can imagine why this will be important against Skinner, perhaps more so than offensive.”

  “Isn’t that a bit advanced?” I asked, wondering why we weren’t starting with simple spellwork. “I’ve never even done defensive or offensive magic.” I didn’t even know those were things.

  “Magic is not exactly like other crafts in this world,” Michael said, stepping in front of me and placing his hands behind his back. “Other crafts take years to learn and hone, much like building a pyramid. Magic, however, grows by leaps and bounds. It is something you call upon.

  "The better you are at doing that, the stronger you are. Yes, of course, you can learn different spells and ways to do so, which often take years… Plus, all the training and technique.

  “But that isn’t your problem, Sadie. Yours is the root of it all. Trusting yourself. Listening to instinct.” He gave me a long look. “I’ve found the best way to tap into it is defensive magic. You’re forced to not think, to only react.”

  I nodded, wishing it was as easy as Michael made it sound. If only I could call upon my gifts whenever I wanted and act on them however I wanted. I’d be unstoppable. Then I blinked, wondering if that was part of the problem. I was wishing and trying instead of doing.

  That thought had me staggered and I lost track of what Michael was saying.

  Is Michael right? Wait, how did he know? And have I been letting the niggling negativity and Delia’s doubts hold me back all along? Just how powerful am I?

  “Sadie, are you listening to me?” Michael growled and I snapped my gaze up to his.

  “Sorry, I was thinking about what you said, about reacting and calling on your magic. It made me…” I wasn’t exactly sure how to explain it to him. “Well, I’m ready in any case.”

  “As I was saying,” Michael said, raising a brow at me, but there was a smile playing around his mouth. “We’ll start small. I’ll release one butterfly and you will try to cancel it out. The magic will not be strong behind it at first, but I’ll switch it up as we go along.

  “Sometimes there will be more, but they will be weak. Other times it will be one or two, but they’ll have hundred-fold strength. You must learn how to focus your magic so as to not waste it. Control the flow. Too much energy and the spellbinding will backlash. Too little and it won't work."

  “What do you mean backlash?” I asked nervously, watching as he walked backward from me. “And wait, how do I do it?”

  “React,” Michael said, throwing out his hand and a butterfly shot out of it. Its wings were blurs of blue and green flame, speeding at me.

  I squeaked, throwing out my hand and there was a boom that shook the room. With a cry, I flailed backward and fell, landing squarely on my ass.

  Michael appeared in front of me and extended a hand. “That was backlash. You used way too much power. Try to sense its potency, I won’t mask it.” He grinned. “At least not at first.”

  I was about to say I’d never done something like this before but I choked it down and nodded.

  As he vanished and reappeared at the other end of the room, I called out, “Why butterflies?”

  “I thought you’d like them,” Michael called back, releasing two.

  They were marginally slower but still speeding, fiery bullets coming at my head. However, this time I tried to figure out how much magic I needed to stop them. But just as I thought I’d gotten a glimpse, they were on top of me and I ducked. Both of them spun by and vanished.

  “Dammit,” I growled.

  “Sadie, have patience with yourself,” Michael said, his hand landing on my shoulder. “It will take time, but every time you will learn more.” I squeaked and glanced between the Michael next to me and the one across the room. Both grinned and my knees buckled. “Astral projection,” he explained. “Just for you.”

  Yet even with two Michaels training me for the price of one, I couldn’t get a hold of spellbinding. Often, a little voice wondered if I ever would. I either let off a wimpy fissure of magic that went nowhere or too much, causing me to go flying backward.

  The backlash was the worse, I soon realized. It wasn’t just that the energy knocked me down, it shuddered through my bones and messed with my abilities. Every time it happened, it would take several minutes for me to recover.

  “I see why this is important,” I said grimly, as Michael allowed us a short break and became one again. Rubbing the back of my neck, I rotated my shoulders and stretched. I was aching all over. “You put yourself in danger if you overextend during a spellbinding. My reaction time slows even more and it’s harder to control the magic.”

  “Exactly,” Michael said, very pleased. “I’m glad you realized that. It was part of the lesson.”

  After drinking some water and having a snack, I was ready to get back at it. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but I knew it had been a few hours at the least. Michael was still keeping the number of butterflies low, five at most, and I was still struggling.

  No matter how hard I focused, I couldn’t figure out the right amount of magic to stop the stupid butterflies. It was always too much or too little. And it was infuriating.

  We took another break, this time longer as Michael sat us down in the center of the room, summoning a picnic blanket, a basket, and a thermos. He handed me a sandwich without comment and I tore into it. I was ravenous and I was sweating through the tank.

  “You can tell me how I’m doing,” I said bluntly, between bites, looking up at him. He was lounging on his side, already having finished. “And don’t sugarcoat it.”

  “You are learning,” Michael replied.

  I scowled. “Not fast enough.”

  “Is that what you think?” Michael asked. “Then that’s what’s happening.”

  I sighed, wishing he would stop with the Yoda talk and give me something I could actually use. “Is there something I’m not doing? Some trick?”

  “No tricks. You do not trust yourself and that will lead you to panic. Both of which could be fatal in a real situation,” Michael commented quietly. “Both of which also take time and concentrated effort to rectify. No magic can alter what you believe. Well,” he amended, “you could be enchanted, but that’s an illusion of belief. And it’s a paltry imitation of the real thing.”

  I nodded, finishing up my sandwich. Michael handed me the thermos and I gratefully drank the water. “Belief, huh?” I thought back to that confidence I’d felt this morning and the promise I would wipe the slate clean. “Alright, let’s get back to it.”

  Michael seemed surprised. “We could stop for the day. I know it’s taken a lot out of you.”

  “No, I want to get t
his. At least once,” I said, scrambling to my feet. “And don’t hold back this time, I know you were.”

  “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “If you want me to learn,” I said grimly, “you’ll push harder.”

  Michael’s eyes glinted with the challenge and this time, he did not astral project. Standing at either end, we faced off and I mentally chanted, over and over again, I can do this, I can do this.

  His hand flung out and a butterfly flew at me, faster than before. There was a tickle of energy in the back of my mind, the touch of a feather and my eyes widened.

  Is that it?

  Trusting myself, I flicked a tiny amount of energy at it and it vanished.

  “Sadie,” Michael exclaimed and then his face lit up. “That was it, keep doing that.”

  Before I had time to respond, he flung out both hands and eight butterflies swarmed at me. Again, I sensed that feather-like touch, but there was a stronger hum in the midst. Sweeping out my hand, I spellbound the seven with bare touches of magic and the eighth spiraled off.

  “Damn.”

  “But you sensed that one was stronger than the others,” Michael called out, grinning. “You’re getting it. Keep at it. Again.”

  As the hours passed, the number of times I caused a backlash shrank, while my successes rose in spellbinding. Soon, I got it almost every time. Usually, if I messed up, it was because they escaped before I could catch them, not because I wasn’t controlling the energy. So, while my reflexes still needed work, I now was able to sense them accurately. I almost couldn’t believe it.

  My confidence grew though, with each success. Now, I was dispatching the butterflies with ease every time and Michael was now starting to sweat. Soon, I was keeping him on his toes as much as he kept me on mine. There was a humming tension tugging between us as we continued to work and more than once Michael’s eyes lingered on my lips or throat.

  During the following hour, I didn’t miss one single butterfly and I wanted to sing out, I was so happy. And grateful. Michael had really hung in there with me.

  Panting, I watched as Michael strode over to me. “Why are we stopping?”