Chapter 6
SIX
Joss bounced her knee the entire drive to Blaire’s cottage on the outskirts of Hexen Holler.
Though the demesne encompassed all of Roan Mountain and the surrounding area, stretching across the North Carolina border into Banner Elk and Seven Devils to the west, the seat of the Witch of the Demesne had been in the small hamlet of Hexen Holler for as long as anyone could remember.
Verna claimed it was to further snub the Carvers, who had settled the holler several hundred years prior to C.R.O.W.
sending in the Braddox line, but Blaire felt differently.
There was a magick in Hexen Holler’s twisting roads and many creeks.
The narrow valley acted as a sort of well, collecting the run-off of intent from the mountains, and was continuously strengthened by every practicing witch within the demesne.
A pool of rich magick in a bowl. A treasure worth hoarding, or hexing over.
Her truck trundled over Shell Creek, wooden slats rattling from the weight, and she slowed to park in the gravel driveway in front of her cottage.
Joss’s knee slowed and stopped, and she let out a quiet huff.
“I know, it’s not much.” Blaire’s cheeks flushed warm, sudden embarrassment making her grip the steering wheel.
To say her cottage “wasn’t much” was an understatement, but the quaint, white-slat building was all she needed.
A front room and kitchen with space enough for a small table and chairs, a bedroom, a bathroom, and the Blue Ridge right outside her door.
Town was a seven-minute drive away. The Carver home another three past that.
The cottage was perfect for her needs, which, two years ago, had been simple: privacy and greenlife.
She tried to imagine what Joss saw, fresh off her world travels, living in cities Blaire had only read about, and imagined to those cultured eyes, her beloved home looked … sad.
Joss rubbed a knuckle against her breastbone. The silk robe shushed over her skin, and she twitched her face to Blaire.
“Oh, Blaire, baby. No.” Joss slid across the bench seat, pressing their thighs together. “Don’t be sad.”
“You can feel that?” Blaire straightened, intending to put space between them. Joss cupped her cheek, refusing to let her pull away.
“I feel everything you feel.” Her breath dusted over Blaire’s lips. The heat of her embarrassment shifted, deepening into something richer. “Like when you wanted to laugh at your uncle’s suggestion to raid my house on horseback.”
“Oh, come on, you could barely keep from laughing.” Blaire grinned. A flutter of joy winged in her chest, hers, but not.
“Can you blame me?” Joss matched her smile. “Where would we even find a full suit of armor, much less a battalion’s worth?”
At that, Blaire laughed outright. The flutter in her chest heightened, bubbling and fizzing like she’d drunk too much coffee. “I’m pretty sure Uncle Ross has a medieval fetish he’s been hiding from the family.”
“Well, if ever we need an Iron Maiden, we’ll know who to ask.” Joss’s smile flickered at the word “we”. Her dark eyes drifted over Blaire’s face, and a bit of the giddy flutter ebbed away. “I’m not disappointed in your home, Blaire.”
“Disappointed?”
“Or sad,” she corrected, “or whatever that was I felt.”
“I know it’s small.”
“It’s not small, it’s perfect.” Joss glanced out the windshield at the cottage. “It’s you, if you were a house.”
Blaire snorted. “If I were a house?”
“I just wish I’d been here to see this.” Sorrow rushed in, applying a heavy pressure to her chest. “To grow up with you.”
“Hey.” She placed her hand over Joss’s, pressing her palm harder against her cheek. “We’re only twenty-two. Plenty of time for you to watch me get wrinkly and become the spitting image of my mom.”
Joss’s eyes dipped to Blaire’s mouth, and she took her time bringing them back up to meet her gaze. “Promise?”
Rich heat flooded Blaire’s belly, mixing with that odd sorrow. She let out a ragged breath, managing little more than a whispered, “Promise,” before she dragged Joss from the truck.
The front drive was short, her cottage was small, and suddenly her bedroom was too far away. She would give her a tour later. Offer her tea, or a snack, or something to wear other than these asinine robes. Later.
Right now, there was only one thing she wanted.
The bed frame creaked beneath her weight as she sat.
Widening her legs, she braced Joss’s waist with her hands and guided her to stand between her knees.
Blaire gazed up into that lovely, beloved face, all too aware of Joss’s chest rising and falling beneath the silk, pert nipples telling Blaire what she already knew.
That she felt as Blaire did. That this binding, so new and precious between them, was built upon something deeper. Something as solid as the ancient oaks in her backyard.
“We have a few hours before we have to meet your mom.”
Joss nodded, eyes liquid and dark. “We should sleep.”
“Later.” Neither a demand nor a question. A simple statement of the unspoken truth.
“Later.”
Joss barely breathed the word before Blaire took her breast into her mouth, silk and all.
The tight bud pressed against her tongue, and with the gentlest suck, Joss surged into her.
Her hands drove into Blaire’s hair, nails scraping deliciously over her scalp.
She drove her knee into the mattress, grazing ever-so-slightly against Blaire’s center.
It might as well have been her tongue. A riot of sensation licked up her spine, bursting into her own breast as though Joss’s mouth were there as well.
She cupped Joss’s free breast, sweeping her thumb across her nipple, and shuddered at the delicious sparkle of pleasure.
Her muffled groan matched the low sound warbling out of Joss, encouraging Blaire more than any words.
She flicked Joss’s nipple with her tongue, taking damn near the entire breast into her mouth.
“Goddess,” Joss dropped her head back. She applied more pressure with her knee, rocking against Blaire until her thighs trembled. “I hope I never get used to this.”
“Mmhmm.” Blaire swept her hands down Joss’s sides, relishing the delicate taper of her waist and the gentle curve of her hips. Silk glided under her palms. She gathered the thin fabric, bunching it up, up, up to reveal long, lovely legs. Her navel.
Joss undid the clasp and shrugged out of the robe.
She tossed it across the room before undressing Blaire with the same determined focus.
The woolen garment landed with a louder thud, but before Blaire could dwell on the obvious discrepancies between silk and wool.
Between herself and Joss, Joss climbed into her lap and swept her into a deep, possessing kiss.
Again, her knee found its way between Blaire’s legs, delicious friction sending mind-melting pleasure spearing through her.
She could not hold enough of the witch in her arms. Could not kiss her deep enough to convey all the mad thoughts whirling in her head, or the tumult of emotions the last twelve hours had spurned into being.
So she settled for showing Joss the most important of them by kissing every inch of skin she could reach.
By tasting the salt at the crook of her neck and dragging her teeth along Joss’s shoulder as if she could bring their bodies close enough to inhabit the same space.
Joss rocked against her, drawing Blaire’s passion higher until the room faded to nothing.
Until there was only this, only them, as it should have been for the last four years.
Magick rose around them, drawn out by their coupling, making the air sticky and close.
The clean aether of Joss’s Way swirled around the headier earthiness of Blaire’s, twisting in a pas de deux choreographed by the Triple Goddess herself.
Blaire worked her hand between Joss’s legs, following the lead of their bodies, and stroking her pussy with one dedicated finger.
“Fuck,” they gasped in tandem, panting into each other’s mouths. Blaire danced her eyes over Joss’s lovely face, intensely watching every tiny muscle twitch, how her pupils belled at the second stroke.
“More,” Joss exhaled, putting voice to what they both needed.
Blaire obliged, dipping fingers into the heat of her, eyes rolling back as the sensation of being filled made her own pussy throb.
She crooked her fingers and angled her wrist, finding the sweet spot that had them both crying out.
Her hips bucked, seeking more of the friction from Joss’s thigh even as she scissored her fingers.
Tension wound in her belly, drawing Blaire closer to release.
Close enough, she could almost taste it.
She pressed her palm against Joss’s clit, and orgasm shattered through them both.
Joss shot straight, taking her lovely breasts out of reach.
Blaire followed the motion, gripping Joss’s arm with one hand, her fingers still buried in her pussy, and twisted.
Joss’s back hit the bed, and Blaire was on her, sucking her clit as she worked Joss with her fingers, refusing to let up until every last thought in that beautiful mind was of her and Hexen Holler.
Her fingers fucking Joss until they both came, again and again.
Whatever it took, however long it took, until all the witch knew and all she would ever need was this.
Her legs trembled, toes curling, and another orgasm swelled and crashed like a wave, lapping up from Blaire’s core.
Joss arched her back, shoving her pelvis harder against Blaire’s mouth as she came.
She withdrew her fingers to lap up Joss’s release, eyes rolling at the taste of her lovely witch filling her mouth, her head.
Blaire set her hand between Joss’s breasts, letting her rampant heartbeat set the tempo as she licked her through release and come down, carefully avoiding her sensitive clit.
Joss gripped her hand, chest rising and falling beneath their palms, and when her breathing settled, she tugged Blaire up to lie beside her.
“I hope,” she repeated, “I never get used to this.”
“Me too.” Blaire smiled as Joss curled around her. She waved a hand, and a ruinously soft blanket appeared. With no little amount of care, she settled it over them both and kissed Blaire’s cheek before they fell into a well-deserved sleep.