Chapter Six – Jack #2
She looked up at me and put a hand to my chin. “How can you be so evil and still be so safe?”
I was taken aback by the question. Did she know what I was? How could she? “I don’t know,” I said, and tried to blow it away.
She ran fingers through my hair, scratching my scalp, sending tingles down my spine. “Maybe you’re not evil yet is the thing. Maybe all of your evil is still to come.”
“Maybe,” I said flatly, hoping to discourage further conversation.
She inhaled deeply and pulled back, looking straight into my eyes.
I didn’t know what she was trying to find there—or if the man in the mirror that answered so many women’s unspoken desires was looking back.
Then she moved in—I thought to nestle herself against me again, and I started bargaining with my hunger, swearing to give it fresh blood tomorrow night—when I felt her lips kiss at the hollow of my throat.
I sat still, not wanting to scare her, not wanting to assume. Her lips trailed down a half-inch to my sternum, and kissed me there again.
By the time she reached my navel I was panting.
I didn’t want to—I wanted to be in control—but the hunger—knowing where her lips were going and why—there was no way not to be hard.
But as her lips met the light hair trailing down to the base of my cock I found some inner reserve I didn’t know I had, and stopped her.
“You don’t have to, Bella. I’m here for you. Without that. Really.”
“I know. That’s why I’m doing it,” she whispered, and her mouth sank onto my cock.
I groaned and slowly fell back on her bed, as her mouth overcame me.
There was enough light for me to see her but I still closed my eyes, giving into the sensation of her tongue against my head.
She stroked the tip of me with it and sucked just the head gently, cupping her lips all around.
I wanted to buck up and make her take more of me, but I could already tell—if we fucked this time—the way we were going to fuck—it’d shut my hunger right the hell up. All I had to do was hang on.
She worked her mouth down my shaft and started stroking my balls and I risked thrusting, feeling my cock bend down the back of her throat, held in tight.
Her dark eyes looked up at me, waiting, and for the second time that night I reached for her hair—to push it out of my way so I could see her.
She purred at being watched and went faster—and my body and my hunger fell out of sync.
My body wanted her to taste me, now, to hold her head and thrust until everything was spilled inside her mouth.
But my hunger required much, much more to be sated.
I pushed myself up on my elbows. “I need to fuck you,” I growled.
She pulled herself slowly off my cock, letting me feel each inch revealed, and then looked at me, breathless herself. “So do it,” she said, her voice just as low, and I took it as a challenge.
I folded over myself and grabbed her, pulling her over me, shoving her up, until her thighs framed my face.
I knew she was wet, but I had to be sure—I grabbed her ass and pulled her onto me, burying my face in the sweetness of her pussy.
I licked her open and pushed in and felt more than heard her moan, her whole body shuddering over me.
I worked my tongue up until it was under her hood and sucked at her there, while pushing my chin up to grind.
I felt her ass tense under my hands and she rocked against me, begging me to suck harder, push deeper.
More wetness flowed, so much, and I knew—I pushed her to the side, so that I could get out from underneath her.
I had to get my cock inside her—now. I rose up behind her, her on her knees in front of me. I grabbed her hips and pulled.
“Jack,” she hissed, as my cock landed. We both waited there for a moment, feeling this new space, occupied.
Her breath hitched and then she rocked against me, and I thrust into her, and we were off again.
I saw her dart a hand down between her legs as I hunched over her, thrusting deep and I braced with one hand and wrapped the other around her, holding onto her breast, rolling a nipple.
Each time I thrust she grunted and soon both her hands were on her head board, so she could press back into me.
I felt my cock glide in and out of her on a river of juices and spit and thought maybe I’d never been so deep in a woman before—maybe I’d finally met someone able to take me—the hunger roiled through my body, fusing with it, becoming one with all my motions, so that all of me was ready to devour her the second she–let–go–her pussy swelled and grabbed my cock and I knew—I grabbed her hips and thrust wildly, shoving my cock in and out, feeling her thick walls close in as my hard cock arched up and—Bella screamed as the first wave clenched tight.
Luckily, I knew her—I knew so much better than to slow down.
I fucked her right through that orgasm, and the next, and the one after that—it was like she had a switch inside herself that, once flicked, wanted to stay on—her pussy like an incandescent light.
By the fourth one though—my hunger couldn’t stand it any longer.
I’d absorbed so much life from her, but none of it would count if I couldn’t give her some back.
“Bella, baby,” I warned her, and somehow through her orgasmic haze she managed to brace herself again.
“Give it to me, Jack,” she begged, her voice rising, as she started to clench again.
I—if I hadn’t made sure she was wet—if I hadn’t felt her clutch my cock before—I might have worried about the ferocity with which I fucked her now. But no matter what I did she took it and then I felt her pussy grab greedily on, like she was trying to suck me dry—
“Goddamn,” I moaned, and thrust deep one last time. My cock rammed inside her, and then and only then, did everything spill out. My body shuddered as I moaned but I kept her on me as I spasmed, pushing my cum as deep as it would go, claiming her for me as her pussy milked me tight.
She fell forward, and I fell on top of her, still inside her, both of us throbbing. The hunger was gone—would be gone—for the rest of the night. If I could only fuck her every night—I pulled her to me—but she struggled free.
“Don’t go,” I complained.
“I’m not. I promise. I’ll be right back.”
She pulled away from me and off my cock as I sighed. Reality came rushing back, brushing away foolish dreams. What time was it? My phone was in my jeans back in the kitchen.
“Don’t go anywhere!” she shouted.
“Where would I go, woman? You’ve fucked my dick off,” I shouted back, and heard her laugh. I looked down at myself, at my fat cock slung to one side. It’s a good thing I was immortal, or that might’ve been the truth.
She returned, naked and gorgeous, holding the bowl she’d been stirring when I’d first walked in. She put her finger to her lips for my sake, and then began casting a spell—something Latin-y about binding and safety and protection. I tried not to look bemused.
“There,” she said, when she was done, and had painted a half-circle of the bowl’s contents on the floor around the bed. “Now you’re mine.”
“Hmm?”
“I used some of our juices to bind you to me. Now you’re not allowed to leave my side.” She set the bowl down and fell back into bed beside me.
I tilted my head. I didn’t feel any different. But I was also still on the inside of the circle. “Don’t good witches usually ask permission first?”
“They do, but desperate times and all that.”
I traced a hand down the side of her body. “You know you could’ve just asked?”
“It’s not like you exactly come when called, Jack.” True. “And anyhow, it’s temporary,” she went on. “I only need protection for a few days. After that I’ll be fine. I’ve seen it in the cards.”
I opened my mouth to tell her all the reasons I was unreliable, namely that I died with the rising sun. But I knew that’d sound stupid and she wouldn’t believe me, or worse she’d ask to see, and I couldn’t just show that to her. There was no other vulnerability quite like dying by someone.
So what I said next was, “Okay,” even though I knew it was wrong, and pulled her to me.
The sooner she thought I was trapped the sooner she’d sleep and I could leave.
I brushed her hair away from her face gently.
Maybe she could come to the shop tomorrow night, if she was still speaking to me then, or I could get the night off—but there was nothing I could do for her during the day—she’d have to go with non-magical 911. And I couldn’t tell her a thing.
“Bella,” I began, trying to come up with a good—any!—explanation.
She reached up and bopped me on the nose with a fingertip. It smelled like wet dirt and sex. “Shush. It’s done. Just go with it. Your boss is too into you to fire you if you take off a few nights. I’ve seen that too—so don’t worry.”
Not for the first time, I wondered what went on inside her head.
“And tomorrow we can go by the shop and get your gun—I want these gone.” She pulled back from me and lifted a breast, showing me a new tattoo I didn’t know she had—six paw prints, wolf tracks, running underneath.
“A cover-up?” I made a show of pursing my lips thoughtfully. “I’ll see what I can do,” I said, and pulled her even closer. “Go to sleep, silly girl.”
“Did I wear you out?” she asked disingenuously, snuggling up, tossing a leg over my thighs.
“Always,” I said. I kissed her forehead, and then stared at the ceiling until I heard her snore.