Chapter 19
Want him for his money?
I scoff to myself as I listen to the gush of water coming from the kitchen sink.
Money has never been a big deal in my life. Not because Mom and I had a lot. In fact, we lived relatively close to the poverty line by most standards when I was growing up. But my mother never let that become a stressor in our lives. She was an expert at getting us everything we needed, even if it was from bargain racks and favors from friends. Backstage at burlesque shows, I saw how flimsy displays of wealth were.
And how quickly cash could be earned with the right tease of your body.
Plus, Mom always knew how to find us the cheapest tickets to Broadway shows, and we spent a lot of our time at public libraries, where I could explore thousands of different worlds for free. When I was rich with stories, I didn’t need money.
The only currency Fanny Bellarose taught me to covet—to save up and horde—was power.
Magic.
And that’s how Sammy will pay me tonight. But I refuse to feel bad about the fact. It’s not like I can stop my body from absorbing what he offers, and the Squid knows what I get from his lust. Besides, this doesn’t feel transactional to me because I know that even if there was no magical exchange, I would still want him here.
Despite this being the easiest channel to spell fuel, I don’t sleep with just anyone. In fact, I rarely hook up at all. I invited Sammy over because his body turns me on. And yes, his personality too. The sincere—slightly vulnerable—goofball he’s revealed himself to be underneath that cocky playboy persona he wears most days does something for me.
I thought Sammy Reyes was pure confidence.
Turns out, the guy has his own insecurities.
“I washed all the way up to my elbows,” he announces, appearing in my bedroom doorway with his hands held up as if he’s about to go into surgery.
I raise an eyebrow. “I hope you don’t plan on being in me elbow deep. Pretty sure I’m too tight for fisting.”
With suppressed glee, I watch Sammy’s throat bob in a hard swallow and experience another wave of lust magic. Goddess, my skin is tender like a ripe fruit from all the power he’s giving me, and I swallow the rich taste of his wanting.
“Noted,” Sammy rasps.
Climbing onto my bed, I stand on the mattress, towering over him the way I do on stage when he’s in the VIP section. Then I peel off my top and push down my bottoms. Sammy saw all this before, but that was when I was sick, and he was trying to be a decent guy taking care of me. I doubt he noticed the white ink design on my hip. I’m not sure he sees it now, his eyes too busy dragging up and down my exposed body.
“Come here, Squid.” I tap my hip. “I want to show you something.”
He stumbles closer, eyes following my finger.
“I know a binding witch,” I say. “She’s got this neat little birth control spell. Inked it on me when I was eighteen.”
Sammy grins up at me, and at first, I think he’s delighted by the fact that we can forgo condoms if he’d prefer. But then the Squid undoes his belt and pulls down his own pants to show the same symbol on his skin. Only his is inked in black instead of white.
“I got one too. Binding witch in Denver,” he explains. “We match.”
A warm tingle sneaks through my chest. A touch of ease and happiness, knowing that Sammy took responsibility for his own birth control. Too many partners have assumed I would be solely in charge of contraception. One guy was almost inside me before I stopped him to ask if he wanted to know about birth control.
“We do match,” I murmur. Then I reach out and comb my fingers through his hair, loving how the silky strands tease against my skin. “But maybe you should kiss it. Just to make sure it’s real.”
Sammy’s stare flares with heat and humor. “I do like to use my mouth to test the authenticity of things.”
I’m giggling when he licks my hip bone, then squealing with laughter as he bears me to the bed and buries his head between my legs.
Despite the eager energy thrumming off of Sammy, he takes his time, slowing down once I’m prone before him. The sounds he makes, wet licks mixed with pleased hums, should be banned for the way they drown my brain. Thoughts slip under the surface of an ocean of lust.
It’s been so long since I’ve been with someone, I forgot how good sex could be. Or maybe I didn’t forget, and it never was this decadent. We’ve only just started and already my legs—which I thought were strong before—quiver as if void of all muscles. But even as my body weakens under Sammy’s enthusiastic tonguing, the core part of my being, the internal cauldron of magic, fills steadily, until I envision my magic as a luminescent liquid filled with stars and sparks, spilling over the brim.
I’ve never had to wonder what might happen if I got too much magic.
Protect me Dark One, I pray to the witch goddess, finding myself suddenly giggly again as I realize I’m afraid this orgasm will be so good, I need divine help through it.
“Am I that bad?”
I gasp, less from Sammy’s unexpected question and more from the fact that he was sucking on my clit so good a second before he stopped.
“Goddess,” I pant, pressing a hand against my flushed chest and staring down my body to where Sammy stares at me, his lips glistening with my arousal. “Why in all the hell dimensions did you stop?”
He presses a kiss to my inner thigh, which twitches in response. “You were laughing.” He doesn’t sound upset, only curious. “If you want me to do something differently, I will enthusiastically accept feedback.”
“Fucking Squid,” I mutter as I place my foot on his chest and press him backward.
He pouts, fingers briefly digging into my ass before he lets me go and sits back on his haunches. Then he lands on his ass when I slip off the bed straight into straddling his lap.
“What I want,” I purr while fisting my fingers in his hair, “is for you to be a good boy and finish what you started.” Then I grind down hard on his lap and take his mouth in a punishing kiss. He groans, and I taste myself on him. Reaching down, I carefully unzip his fly so I can pull out his rigid dick. He’s already seeping from the tip, and I thumb the liquid around his sensitive head. “I laughed,” I mutter against his panting mouth, “because I thought I needed a goddess’s protection from how good you were making me feel.”
I ring my hand around the base of him and give a firm squeeze. Sammy lets out an animalistic sound, his hips thrusting upward. As I meet his eyes, the normally dark blue is hazy with awe and arousal. His mouth hangs open. Feeling playful again, I lean in to nip at his bottom lip.
Then I press closer, my mouth against his ear as my hand guides his member between my legs. The man whimpers when he slips against my folds.
“Do you want me to take you deep?” I ask, smiling when he shudders, and his hands clasp my hips. “Do you want me to come on your cock and squeeze you tight?”
“Gods,” he breathes. “Yes. Fuck yes. Please, Ava. Please, put me in.”
Maybe other women like to be dominated, to give up power to a partner they trust. I think if Sammy wanted to fuck that way I’d be down to try.
But this, me in charge with him begging, is so delicious, it’s dangerous.
And from the power spilling from him, the Squid gets off on being teased and tormented. He wants me on top. Earlier I called him Daddy, but that’s not right.
He wants to be my Good Boy.
I sink down, claiming him inch by inch. Sammy writhes and grunts but doesn’t try to take control back from me.
But he keeps begging. “More. Please, Ava. I’m going to die if I don’t get all of you.”
With my hands tangled in his hair, I tilt Sammy’s head back and grin down at him. “You’re so dramatic.” I soften the chiding words with a teasing kiss to his lips, then another to the tip of his nose because I like the way his eyes widen.
When I settle fully in his lap, his cock buried and his balls cradled against the cheeks of my ass, Sammy’s lids flutter and I worry his eyes might roll fully back into his head.
Meanwhile, I’m the fullest I’ve ever been. Not just of his physical penetration—though that seems to be exactly the right size for me—but of magic. Maybe I have a whole collection of internal cauldrons, and finally the rest are getting filled.
All I know is I haven’t orgasmed yet, and this is still the best sex I’ve had in my life.
Still…I do want an orgasm.
“You feel so good,” I croon to Sammy, and when I’m swamped with another wave of lust power, I conclude I was right about his love of praise. Untangling my fingers from his hair, I let my hands set to work on unbuttoning his shirt as I lean back. “Look at how well we fit.”
We both stare down, met with the erotic sight of Sammy’s thick cock stretching the lips of my vulva. I can feel him jerk inside me, and my body clenches in response, which has him moaning and digging his fingers into my waist.
“I never want to leave,” he whispers, his eyes still on where we’re joined.
The words sound heavier than sexy talk, and I guess mine did, too.
Look at how well we fit.
I never thought I could fit with a guy like Sammy. But what does a guy like Sammy even mean anymore? He’s different than I thought.
But I’m too turned on to dive deep into the tumult of thoughts and emotions and revelations swirling through my consciousness. Right now, I just want a night of pleasure with a guy I can’t get off my mind.
I flex my legs, letting Sammy slide almost all the way out before slipping back down, the wet noise of our combined pleasure mixing with our ragged breaths. He reaches to spread my intimate lips further until his sure thumb finds and massages my clit.
“Goddess. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” I chant the words as I continue to ride him.
Sammy bites his lip as his brow furrows in concentration. As if stoking my pleasure is a serious business. Seeing the normally silly man go so serious is the last push I need, and I surge into my orgasm, crying out and clutching the Squid’s shoulders as my body tightens around his.
Sammy wraps his arms tight around my torso, pulling me flush against his chest as he drags me up and down his cock, using my shuddering release to milk his own body while groaning into my neck.
“I’ll never stop,” he promises with each thrust. “Never stop.”
Then his body stiffens against mine and he mutters my name with curses as a warm wetness spills inside me. So much that it drips down my legs.
Overflowing just like everything else inside me.