by Gwen Knight
My neck arched in that moment of suspension where it felt so good, the anticipation of the climax almost painful. And then his teeth tugged on a nipple, and I broke apart in his arms, screaming for all of Salem to hear how good James made me feel.
Magical. It was the only way I could describe it.
“So good!” I called out. “So good.”
“Shell,” he moaned, his thrusts becoming short and fast as he sped towards his own release. With a long, deep groan, his teeth latched onto my shoulder, holding me in place as he slammed into me once more and held, emptying inside of me.
After a quiet moment of harsh breathing and rapid fire heartbeats, James leaned in for a soft, languid kiss that had my toes curling and my insides heating once again. When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing hard. But as he looked at me, I noticed for the first time that he still had his glasses on. The lenses were smudged and they sat crooked on his nose, causing me to snort out a chuckled.
“What?” He smiled at me, then nuzzled under my chin to kiss my throat.
“Your glasses are messed up.” I laughed.
“Hmm?” He looked up, and I burst out laughing. His glasses were barely hanging off one ear. I could tell he’d done it on purpose, the way his smile teased at me. He had such a charming smile, too. My besotted expression couldn’t be helped.
Then the smile slowly vanished as his gaze became serious. “You are so beautiful, Shell,” he whispered.
It hadn’t been the first time he’d said those words that night, but as he repeated them, my stomach twisted in dismay.
“What’s wrong?” Seeing my horror struck expression, James lowered his brows.
I shook my head, hardly able to keep my tears in check. “I made a horrible mistake,” I whispered. Sitting up, I pushed away from James and reached for my clothes.
“Wait. Just wait, Shell.” James gently took my upper arm in his grasp to turn me around. I allowed him to do so, but kept my head down, so utterly embarrassed and horrified at what I’d done.
“What is this?” he asked. “Do you regret making love with me?”
At the anger and hurt lacing his words, my chin lifted and met his steely blue gaze. “I’m so sorry, James.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I… I don’t know…” My head fell into my open palms as I held back sobs. What had I done?
“Shell,” James said softly, wrapping a comforting arm around my shoulders. “Tell me what’s the matter.”
Taking a couple of deep breaths, I swallowed before forcing myself to face the music. “James,” I looked up, my sorrowful gaze meeting his confused one, “you didn’t really want to be here with me tonight.”
“What? That’s ridiculous, Shell. I came here to see you. Admittedly, I didn’t expect all of this, but I’m glad”
“Exactly,” I cut him off. “You didn’t expect this, because it shouldn’t have happened. It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t done that spell.”
James leaned away from me, but not far enough to remove his arm. His lips pressed together, his eyes moving back and forth as he looked at me closely. “What spell?”
Blowing out a breath, I waved at the mess next to us. What was left of the strawberry pulp dripped out of the overturned bowl onto the counter. “I was just finishing the spell when you arrived,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”
His gaze shifted between the bowl and the fork, then he dragged his finger into what was left of the strawberry. I jerked in surprise as he brought the sweet juice to my lips. His own lips were lifted in one corner, his eyes soft as he watched me.
“What—”
He cut me off with a gently kiss. “An attraction spell, am I right?” he asked.
I nodded numbly, still reeling from his kiss and the taste of tart berry on my tongue.
“Were you thinking of me as you said the spell?”
No,” I replied. “But I had been thinking of you before I began.”
“That doesn’t count.” He smiled. “Anyway, it wouldn’t have mattered.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“Because, there is no attraction or love spell that would work on me.”
“Oh.” My shoulders slumped.
“It can’t work on someone who’s already attracted, fascinated… Borderline obsessed.”
He pushed an auburn tendril behind my ear as I stared, speechless.
“Attracted,” he continued slowly, “to the one he’s head over heels in love with. Shell, I’ve been in love with you for longer than I can remember. From the moment I saw you, I wanted you.”
I gasped. “Why didn't’ you say something?”
“I hadn’t made a move in all this time because I didn’t think you were interested.”
“What?”
He smiled shyly and ran a hand through his messy hair. “I guess I missed all the signs. Until tonight.” He licked his lips and moved closer, his expression becoming darker, full of lust, and my body responded with a sensual shiver.
“When I walked in, you were lapping up that strawberry. So sensual, so sexy the way you sucked on your finger, enjoying it so much. I couldn’t control myself. Then you looked at me with as much heat and desire as I felt, and I was lost.”
Pressing his forehead to mine, he took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled. “I love you, Shell. I’m hoping you feel the same way? Or at least close?”
“I do.” I nodded eagerly, unable to believe all my dreams were finally coming true. “I love you so much.”
“Then let’s not waste another minute,” he said. “We’ve wasted too much time as it is. Be with me, Shell?”
“Yes,” I hiccuped a laugh as tears trailed down my cheeks. “Thank God for that spell then.”
James grinned so wide little lines deepened around his eyes. “If I’d know that’s all it would take to get you in my arms, I would have suggested a spell a long time ago.”
As he pulled me into said arms and kissed me breathless, I couldn’t keep the silly grin off my face. I was finally exactly where I’d always wanted to be.
C.E. Black self-published her first book in 2011 and has since published several novels, novellas, and short stories. Though she began her writing career in the Paranormal Romance genre, she found her niche in erotic PNR/Fantasy with her breakout novel, Shifted Temptations. What started out as a standalone romance, became the Amazon best selling Alpha Division series. Though steamy romance, hunky heroes, and feisty heroines are C.E.’s specialty, she enjoys surprising her readers with action-filled plots and exciting twists that makes for a fast-paced read.
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Into The Ether
by Angelica Dawson
Geoffrey ran his thumb along the edge of his small blade and grinned at the resulting drop of blood. It was very sharp and should be perfect for his plans. He tucked it back in its sheath and returned to his chore.
Luke and Clarice were lovely people, but Geoffrey couldn’t completely overcome his resentment. Why had they come back? Luke had been sent back to England after his father died when he was only ten. This wasn’t his house, it was Mary’s. Although young enough to be Luke’s brother, Geoffrey had fallen in love with his mother. She’d never really returned his affection, but it didn’t matter.
He would have worn her down, won her over, but the village took Mary from him, burning her at the stake for the very things she had done to save his life.
Now, she was gone and the Parker family was growing. They needed more room. It was Geoffrey’s task to dismantle the old house while Luke and his eldest son used bricks and mortar to build a new one.
Every nail, every board set aside felt like another cut, severing him from his memory of Mary. She was here, he knew that. Her spirit had spoken to him before, and he could almost hear her now.
&
nbsp; “We had another place. I will dance for you.”
He closed his eyes and remembered. She’d danced in the moonlight, wearing only her hair and undergarments. Graceful and lithe, she twirled and stretched, her skin white like milk, her brown hair flaring out from her triumphant face. He knew where she would be.
“Mister Geoffrey? Would you like some water?” The eldest Parker girl, only six, came with a bucket and dipper.
“Yes, thank you, Margaret.” He slurped the mouthful and wiped with the back of his hand.
“You are strong.”
Geoffrey blinked, staring down at the small female that suddenly seemed too familiar.
“Father is strong too. He says grandmother was the strong one, after grandfather died.”
That was it. She looked like Mary. Luke had a few of her features, but more of them graced little Margaret.
“She was. She was the strongest person I know. You grow up to be strong like her.”
She grinned, her tiny even baby teeth making a perfect smile. “I will, Mister Geoffrey.”
As the sun set, Geoffrey dug down along one of the beams then kicked at it. It was part of the frame of the old house. Most of the beams would be used in the new structure, but this one would be in the middle of a room. Luke helped and they pushed it back and forth until they could work it free.
Luke dusted his hands. “I think that’s all of it. Thank you again for your help, Geoffrey. I know our settling in would have been much more difficult if not for you.” He extended his dirty hand to Geoffrey, who shook it with one just as soiled.
“It is nothing. Your mother was a wonderful woman, and I’m happy to help her family. But you need to eat as do I. Goodnight, Luke.”
Geoffrey didn’t go home to the dinner his mother had made. He went to the meadow, and arrived after the sun set, the moon casting a pale light across the grass and wildflowers. There in the middle of it stood Mary.
He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and blinked again. He hadn’t seen her in five years. She didn’t look a day older. She wasn’t in her shift, as he’d hoped, but that didn’t detract from his elation at seeing her. Rather than dancing, she looked like she’d just completed a heavy chore, bracing her hands on her knees.
“Mary?” Was she well?
She straightened and smiled at him. “I’m sorry I can’t dance for you.”
“Mary. Mary, you can’t know how hard it has been.” He ran across the grass to her, desperate to touch her again. His hands scooped through her and he held nothing. What curse was this? To have her so near and not be able to touch her.
She was gone. There was only one way he could join her. He pulled his tiny knife from its sheath. “I decided that without you, your house, your magic, I had no purpose. And seeing you like this has made me more determined.”
She was a ghost, so naturally, the way to be with her was to become a ghost himself. “I’m coming to join you, Mary. Tonight.” It was the middle of summer. She’d told him she would consider his proposal in the summer. Perhaps this would be their marriage. “I’ll marry my soul to yours.”
Mary screamed at him, but he stabbed the knife into his leg. He’d seen how quickly an animal bled out from there. It should be the same for him, and it was. He fell to the grass but couldn’t bear to listen to Mary cry, so he opened another cut at his wrist, his neck. He didn’t want to wait for death and lost strength quickly. He stared at Mary until his eyes went dark and the world became cold.
***
“I’m home.”
Geoffrey turned to see a woman walking in the door of the house. He frowned, unsure how he had gotten here. A moment ago he was in the field with Mary, he should be with her now. Examining the door and wall more closely, he recognized them. This was Luke’s house, finished. He looked up at the second floor. It was much bigger than he had known.
The girl at the door took off her raincoat and he made to grab her. “Mary!”
Just as in the meadow, he cursed his inability to touch her.
Mary climbed the stairs and he followed, curious if he could make her hear him as he had heard Mary.
“Mary!” He tried shouting, banging objects, slamming doors. His hands went through everything.
Frustrated, he stopped to really look at her. She was dressed like a man, and yet she appeared very feminine, with hips and breasts that didn’t hide under shirt and trousers. When she rose and looked out the window, he felt ashamed for staring but couldn’t avoid admiring her round bottom. In her dresses, he had never seen it so clearly.
She spun and looked right at him.
“Mary? Mary!” He took a step toward her at the same time she approached him. She walked through him to look into the closet. After that, she left.
He looked through the house, the first floor matching what Luke had planned. The second floor must have been added later. So many things were different. An outhouse in the house? A tub without feet? Finally, he went into the backyard and relaxed. This had changed very little. The beds he’d built were still there. However, it was obvious they had been left untended for a very long time.
He heard Mary return and hurried to see her. She had brought food, although it was only the bread that told him what it was. Everything was cut or in boxes or other containers. Some she put in a special closet, others went into the cupboards. He gave up trying to understand it. None of that mattered. He had to get Mary to see him, to notice him.
She went up the stairs and began to undress. That was too much for him. He’d never seen her naked before and the last thing he wanted was to see her bare and be unable to touch her. Instead, he lingered outside the door until the sound of rustling cloth ended. Returning, walking through the door, he found her in a shift, albeit a very short one, and climbing under the covers.
He watched her, tracing her features, her unruly brown hair that he’d only seen once before. The rise and fall of her chest, the proof she was alive, fascinated him.
“Who’s there?” She looked angry, offended.
“I’ll go.” He thought his heart was breaking. Rather than walking through the door, his hand pushed it open slightly.
He’d killed himself to be with her and they still couldn’t touch one another. Fate was so cruel.
Angelica Dawson, best selling Naughty Nights Press author, has been writing for several years and having sex a lot longer than that. Her love of plants and the outdoors is not diminished by the bloodsucking hoards—mosquitoes and black flies, not vampires.
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Caught Under the October Moon
by Kiki Howell & Gina Kincade
The meshing colors of the fallen autumn leaves crackled under the weight of her bare feet, similar in sound to the fire that burgeoned around the stack of dry logs before her. Once the heat infiltrated her body, she shed her deep burgundy, velvet cloak, watching as it flowed to the ground like pouring wine. Turning, she lit the red candles along with the incense of spicy cinnamon and ginger on her makeshift altar. The small flames threw flickers of light that danced upon the various fruits and vegetables decorating the tree stump. Under the light of the October Blood Moon coming through the thinning canopies of the treetops, lost in her ritual, she neglected to hear the sound of footsteps signaling a warning. The final shift of the brush startled her, its branches parting to admit a man into the clearing.
She turned to face her visitor, forgetting for a moment that she stood there fully exposed, and stared into the eyes of Mitch, a friend from her apartment building two floors up and one door over. Despite the fact she had developed many friendships, no one there knew she was a witch.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, as she followed his gaze down over the erect nipples of her breasts to the small patch of hair nestled at the juncture of her thighs. Unable to avoid turning to get her robe, she was forced to display her backside to him as well.
"I saw a cloaked figure enter the woods and deba
ted about checking it out until I saw the flickers of light through the trees." He blushed as he stumbled over the words. "I couldn't sleep. What are you doing out here at three o'clock in the morning?”
Thoughts rushed through her mind, wondering if he would approve or disapprove of her Wiccan ways. She momentarily felt like a trapped animal as he took a few steps toward her to get closer to the fire. His baggy, wrinkled sweatshirt didn't prevent her from being distracted by the memories of him shirtless this summer.
"Listen, Brianna, you don't have to be afraid to tell me. I won't judge you. You know I'm not like that." He turned to face her, and then took hold of the front of her robe, fondling the crushed velvet between his fingers. "Would you feel better if I confess something first?"
"I don't know." Her voice sounded strange even to her as apprehension and excitement mingled making her insides tremble.
The scent of him drifted through the inches left between them, and she closed her eyes as she absorbed his masculine smell. She could never deny to herself the attraction she had to him, but he’d never made any advances before to show her that he could possibly return the obsession.
"Then, here goes." He stepped in, still holding the edges of her robe, but pressing his hands against her abs.
Still holding her robe protectively closed, his movement caused her to push the backs of her hands into his hard chest, making her skin tingle at the heated contact.
"I’ve wanted to be alone with you since the first time I met you, so I could see how you would react if I did this…"
The warmth of his breath brushed over her face before the fullness of his lips pressed against hers. He brought his hands up into her hair, and the chill of his fingertips felt like pure magical energy.
