3 Reasons To Not Kiss A Warlock: Beware, Bewitched, Bewarlocked (Mystic Keep Universe Book 2)

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3 Reasons To Not Kiss A Warlock: Beware, Bewitched, Bewarlocked (Mystic Keep Universe Book 2) Page 5

by Jo-Ann Carson


  Would Donovan have news, or would we spend another evening dancing around each other’s personality and my wanton libido? I turned off the motor and sat for a minute. Meeting at midnight with the man I wanted to kiss, but did not want to kiss, clawed at my resolve. I wasn't a teenager. What the hex had gotten into me. Looking up, I saw the warlock standing on top of the Keep.

  In the rain? Give my broom a shake. He couldn't possibly want me to meet him outside in this storm. I pulled out my phone to send him a text when I heard his voice in my head. Damn warlock. "Merlina, meet me now. Trust me, it will be worthwhile."

  Trust? Why was it that men always asked for that and gave nothing in return? I snapped my fingers and appeared at his side, holding a black umbrella over my head.

  Donovan took the umbrella from me and threw it over the side of the tower. “Feel the storm, Merlina. Feel it in the sinew of your bones.”

  That’s not my style, but I wasn’t about to chicken out. My nose twitched at the pungent smell of the verdant rainforest. “It’s wet,” I said.

  “Feel the power of nature.”

  I closed my eyes. “Okay, now I’m wetter. Mother Nature is wet.”

  “Get out of your head, out of your skin, and feel her power.”

  I opened one of my eyes. “Okay, now I’m one with nature. Drenched to the bone.”

  He shook his head. “You’re not trying.”

  “Why am I here, Donovan?”

  “That’s always a good question.”

  I raised my hand to stop him. “Don’t get all existential on me. Tomorrow the Blood Moon will rise. What do you know?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Just tell me.”

  His lips firmed, and he gave me a flirtatious glance. "You're not going to like it."

  “I’m wet. I’m cold. I’m tired. I want to get this over with. Just tell me.”

  "My experts say the planets are aligned unusually, and this lunar eclipse is, in fact, the fourth Blood Moon in a row."

  “Before my silk panties get soggy, tell me something I don’t know.”

  I felt his pupils dilate when I mentioned my underwear.

  He cleared his throat. "They say the nexus energy that lies below town will be disrupted, which would disturb the spells of our witches, warlocks, and wizards. Things could go really wonky. That was their word, not mine. There's no telling what could happen. They don’t rule out the bible prophecies, of apocalyptic catastrophes."

  The damn nexus! It was a well-known fact that alchemy created above a nexus had greater power, and that’s why my great-aunt Ophelia chose to create her sanctuary here. To mess up this enhanced magic would be disasterous.

  “So, the biggest danger is a disruption of our sorcery.”

  He nodded in agreement, but I could tell he held something back. Something important. I waited.

  He rubbed his finely chiseled chin and looked at the stormy sky. “Let me explain why I’ve really invited you here tonight.

  Finally, I thought. I flicked water off my cheeks.

  His Adam’s apple went up and then down. “As two of the most powerful mages in town, it is our responsibility to protect the grid of alchemy in any and every possible way we can.”

  “Protect the grid … in any … and every?”

  He closed his eyes for a second and telegraphed an image of the two of us passionately entwined on the floor of a wild forest, with moonlight spilling over our naked bodies. My ovaries dropped.

  “You and me?” I said.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Impossible. There is no you and me.”

  His eyes locked with mine and hot sexual energy zinged between us flooding my nether regions with molten heat. A wicked smile crossed his face. "Admit it. You've thought about it," he said, looking at me expectantly.

  His magic probed me for honesty, which left a prickly feeling all over my aura as if a hundred no-see-ums munched on my senses.

  "Keep your sorcery to yourself," I said. "Of course, I've thought of taking you down—in a million ways.".

  He gave a husky laugh. “And some of them were erotic,” he said with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

  My panties were now soaked, and the rain wasn’t my only problem. “I thought you live a monk’s life.”

  Donovan brushed my wet hair away from my face. His touch was electrifying. "I've been celibate for a long, long time, and that suited me. I have a son to raise and responsibilities to my community. I didn't want any minor liaison to divert my attention from what truly matters.” He hesitated. Moonlight emphasized the planes and hollows of his perfectly sculpted face and the confusion it held. “Then you came to town," he said.

  I swallowed.

  “I find your energy unsettling,” he said.

  “Unsettling?” I had been called worse.

  "You are more charismatic than any enchantress I have encountered. You are rude and stubborn, and yet, I feel drawn to you." He looked up at the storm. "I'm hoping to get over it soon."

  "I'm not charming you," I said.

  “I know. Nor I, you. I want you to know that I have feelings. I’m not just a hungry warlock on the prowl for pussy.”

  “Hmm.”

  "Let me be perfectly clear,” he said, in a manly, boardroom voice as if we were discussing the amalgamation of two businesses. “If our coupling can block the danger that threatens everyone we care about, then I'm willing to do my part." He folded his arms.

  I groaned. “Let me get this straight. You’re saying you want to do the nasty with me to save the town.” I winced. “Where did you learn your pick-up lines? You seriously need to work on them.”

  He moved closer. “It’s like math,” he said.

  Now I was really bewildered. "How is our making love like math?"

  “On a basic level, it is. Hear me out. You are the most powerful witch I have ever met. And I am a masterful mage. Add us together and kabam.”

  "Kabam? As in bam, kabam, thank you, ma'am?"

  He chuckled. “There’s no knowing what our combined magic could do. I am told it could ward off whatever we face.” He looked at my angry expression and winced. “Or at least help.”

  I walked to the edge of the parapet. White-capped waves crashed on the side of the cliff, making a booming sound, and unleashing a spray that rose halfway up the Keep. What he said was right, of course. Our coupling would exponentially combine our magic and could theoretically be useful in a fight. But I couldn't enter such a powerful tryst without taking my heart with me, and I doubted it would be whole afterward.

  Donovan wrapped his arms around my waist. “We should do it for the town, for our people, for your unborn niece.”

  “When you asked me here, I imagined we would swap spells, not spit.”

  "There's no need to be crude, Merlina. I know you're hiding your feelings, as am I. You are as attracted to me as I am to you. I can feel your heartbeat inside me. I know you like me." He kissed my neck softly with his full and tender lips. "We have no time to play games. The strongest magic we can create together would be through making love."

  “But we wouldn’t be making love. That’s the problem. We would be having sex.” I elbowed him away from me. “I don’t even like you.”

  “Liar.”

  “Okay. Maybe I like you a little.”

  Wind gusting across the parapet, almost knocked me over. Donovan steadied me with his magic. In the distance, thunder clapped. Lightning streaked from the sky. He laughed. "Or, maybe a lot."

  I turned to face him. “If I were to mate with you, it would be because we both wanted to, not because we had to. Warn the magic folk in town to protect their own damn sorcery.”

  “I’m willing to sacrifice myself,” he said with a sly grin.

  “How noble of you,” I said and vanished.

  Twelve

  "Everyone is a moon and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody." — Mark Twain.

  When I got home, I found Cassie waiting for me. She lay
on the sofa with her legs elevated on pillows. Bright orange nail polish adorned her toes, and a broad smile dominated her face. Sid, her familiar lay by her side. "Well?" she said. "How was your evening with the big, bad warlock.

  “He’s impossible. He’s incorrigible. And …”

  “He’s a good man.” Cassie finished my sentence.

  "I hate it when you're right. But, yes, Donovan is a good man. He's always thinking of others before himself."

  “Two down, one to go,” said Cassie, who looked way too pleased with herself for my liking. “I told you so.”

  “I know my third reason,” I said.

  “Uh-huh. Sure, you do.” Cassie conjured a lilac filled press and placed it over her eyes. The aroma filled the air.

  "I'm serious,” I said. “My third reason to not kiss Donovan O'Reilly is that I can't trust him." Or any other man for that matter, but especially him. “He's so … so … so … warlock!”

  Cassie chuckled. “I bet he has an amazing package.”

  Sid snickered.

  I licked my lips. Good grief. What was it about Donovan that drove me to act like a teeny bopper? "No comment," I said as I flicked on the TV and started checking out movies. It took a couple minutes to find a good witch movie. Hesitating before I clicked it on, I heard Cassie snoring.

  I turned off the TV and pulled a cozy blanket over her. Sid jumped to the floor.

  The Blood Moon would rise the next day, and I didn't have a clue what to do about it. Maybe a good night's sleep would help me find a solution.

  Sanjay arrived a second later. As he whisked Cassie up in his arms, he looked at her with adoration, as if she were the only person in the world that mattered. My insides caved. Such love. Cassie was one lucky witch. He nodded at me, and without a word, vanished. I understood. He wanted her safely tucked into their bed in his mansion. Sigh.

  I tried counting her pregnancy months on my fingers but couldn’t remember when they started. Her baby bump was large, and the baby’s heartbeat strong. It would be wonderful to meet her child and hold her in my arms. My first niece!

  But first, the Blood Moon, I reminded myself. The damn, bloody moon. I headed to bed.

  The dream swallowed me whole that night. I found myself back in Venice, with my masked lover, at the party in the palace where people did things they don’t confess.

  The room smelled of hot sex and heavy magic. Bodies undulated. Voices called out for more. As the candlelight dimmed, my lover fulfilled my darkest fantasies beyond all limits. Never had I imagined such pleasure.

  When I arrived, my only expectation was to have a good time. The Count de Larochelle's parties had the reputation of being sexually freeing. After ending a long drought that followed a failed relationship, a quick sexual release was all I was after. I wanted to turn the page in my life. Start anew.

  I had no idea what I was in for.

  The crowd wore costumes ranging from the classical to the absurd. Every fantasy character was there for me to choose from. With a flute of expensive champagne, I milled among the guests looking for prospective partners. A handsome pirate with an eye patch slapped my ass as I passed him, but he smelled of gin and something swarthy. A bare-chested Viking with braids gave me a serious once over that tingled my toes, but I wanted more. A dashing count attracted me for a moment as he bowed before me with a sinful grin, but then he spoke, and the magic between us broke. He shouldn't have attempted a conversation. It wasn't that kind of party.

  One demon trailed me. There were always demons at such events seeking to satiate their ravenous sexual appetite. Mine dressed as a sleazy billionaire, complete with an open shirt, gold chains around his neck, and an expensive watch. His swamp-green eyes glowed in the dark, and he panted when he saw me. No, just no, I thought.

  The music played on, as the growing crowd pressed together. Their expectations, needs, and desires filled the night. It wouldn't be long before the party really started. I eyed the exits.

  As I headed to the northern one, I felt a hand at the base of my spine firmly moving me towards a corner. “Tu ne peux pas partir.” You cannot leave. “La fête ne fait que commencer.” The party is just beginning.

  His low sensual voice stirred my neglected female parts. I stopped.

  “My French is not good,” I said as if that mattered.

  He chuckled. Clearly, it didn't.

  We settled in a secluded corner. Though nowhere in this ballroom could be secret the mage used magic to make the space feel safe and keep others away. He turned me around and looked me up and down. “Hmm,” he said.

  His mask hid his features, but I could feel his otherworldly eyes lingering on my curves, igniting my senses. He didn't touch me, but he didn't have to. The intense, sexual energy zapping between us, spoke of intimacy, mystery, and pleasure—lots and lots of pleasure. I swallowed. Never had I experienced such magical charm.

  Gently he ran a finger over my bottom lip. “Prête pour le sexe.” Ripe for sex.

  I closed the gap between us and looked him over with all my senses. He wore a black cape and a Venetian mask that gave nothing of his face away. His manly scent called to me in the most primal way, and I wondered for a moment if I could handle his power. He stood a foot taller than me, had broad shoulders, and a narrow waist. Potent witchcraft emanated from him.

  Sensing my response, he growled low in his throat. The sound of a warlock! I was beyond caring about his pedigree. The hair on the back of my neck stood. This was a mage with serious mojo. And tonight, that could mean only one thing, a sexual experience enhanced by sorcery. Perfect.

  Was he part demon? I asked myself. At this point, I felt so intoxicated by his presence, I didn't care. I came to the party to take and be taken. I could handle this guy, whatever he was, and there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to handle and be handled by him all night long.

  The music grew louder, but it was not loud enough to mask the sounds of pleasure in the room. Everyone's clothes disappeared. I looked down. Mine too. I looked at my new friend. Oh, la la. He was a perfect specimen of a warrior, lean muscles, sculpted chest, narrow waist and well endowed.

  “Tu aimes ce que tu vois?” You like what you see?

  A puddle of molten lava gathered in my lower abdomen. I raised my chin. "You're okay," I said.

  He chuckled, and I groaned. Even his chuckle turned me on.

  “Let me see your face,” I said.

  "Non," he said. "Pas encore." Not yet. His sensual voice raked my senses.

  I glanced around. Couples, threesomes, foursomes, undulated, gasping in pleasure. The musky smell of sex surrounded me. I could feel magic in the room, but none as strong as that emanating from the man in front of me.

  His hands took me by the waist, and pushed me against the wall. My nipples pebbled. The music played on.

  Sweat trickled down my face. “Please,” I said. “Take off your mask. Let me see you.”

  “Non, mon amour.” No, my love. “Tout ce que vous devez savoir, c'est que je suis là pour vous satisfaire de toutes les manières.” All you need to know is that I am here to satisfy you in every way. His soft breath tickled my neck. My breasts overflowed in his hands and he played with my taut nipples. He had wonderfully persistent fingers. His hard body pushed against me and I could feel his interest in me long and hard against my back.

  I gasped.

  Slowly his right hand trailed down to my wet core where his fingers lingered, playing with my most delicate parts until I almost climaxed. Nuzzling my neck, he whispered, “Pas encore.” Not yet.

  I was so close. My whole body wanted to explode, but his magic held me at the precipice as his hands teased me to higher and higher heights of pleasure. My breath hitched as he entered me with a finger. I moaned

  Never had I felt so alive, so on the brink. I wanted to turn around and face him, throw his mask away, and see him. But his touch, oh Lordy, his touch felt so good. His fingers moved inside me, teasing my bundled nerves. Wet with my pleasure, he mas
saged my nub and entered me again and again.

  He licked my neck. “Regarde moi. Je veux te goûter..” Face me. I want to taste you.

  His mouth suckled my breast as his fingers played with my core. Only his magic kept me from collapsing in passion. “Tu es si belle.” You are so beautiful. He lowered himself to his knees and licked my center.

  Waves of need coursed through my body. I burned for him, and all I could say was, “More.” I panted.

  “Nous ne faisons que commencer.” We’re just starting. “Croyez-moi, il y en aura plus.” Trust me, there will be plenty more.

  “I want you inside me,” I said.

  He licked. He nibbled. He sucked. I saw stars. I had never rode the edge so long.

  “Pas encore ma vilaine sorcière." Not yet, my naughty witch.

  He knew I was a witch! I didn’t care. Fleeting thoughts entwined with pleasure. Licking and sucking my clit, he ignited a fire storm of intense pleasure, which burned through my body. It felt so intense it bordered on pain. All that existed was his mouth and my pleasure. As if he knew my thoughts, he nipped.

  I groaned. “Who are you?" I said.

  His fingers took over and he spoke. “Ce soir je suis votre amant et je vous satisferai de toutes les manières possibles.” Tonight, I am your lover and I will satisfy you in every possible way. His low voice stirred me almost as much as his touch. He bit my ear lobe hard. “D’une manière que vous ne savez même pas que vous voulez. Faites-moi confiance.” In ways you don’t even know you want. Just trust me.

  “Please.” I panted. “Let me see who you are.” I tried to gather my magic to push against his, but he was too strong. I pulled on his hair as hard as I could.

  “Pas avant que tu me fasses confiance.” Not until you trust me.

  "I like control,” I said. “I have to have control. Let me see you." Sweat trickled between my breasts.

  He chuckled. That damn chuckle. I’ll never forget it, as long as I live. He rose his full height and bit my neck. I gasped. I wanted release more than I wanted my next breath. “Please.”

 

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