Chapter 23
The morning had gone by in a flash. Dina had regretfully placed a spell on her door that wouldn’t let her open it until she was ready—and in her words, “not super horny.” Scott had a million and one questions about the functionality of a spell somehow measuring her horny levels and interpreting them for the logical operation of the door like some kind of magical chastity belt, but mostly he was secretly chuffed that Dina wanted him enough that she had to bespell herself in order to get ready on time. His growing ego worried she might get stuck in there perpetually.
He didn’t have the same magic at his disposal, and it had taken quite a few deep breaths and distracting thoughts to get his semi to go down. Dina had called to him when she was leaving the cottage to go and help Immy prepare—and, as pre-agreed, he’d reluctantly remained in his room until she was gone. That lock spell hadn’t seemed so stupid anymore.
It had taken an obscene amount of willpower not to open up his bedroom door and scoop Dina into his arms. He would tip her onto the kitchen counter and bury his face in the heat of her thighs, just to hear that sweet little sound she made in the back of her throat as she came, and then he’d fuck her on every single surface and against every wall of the cottage. He would have her screaming his name on her knees tonight.
But he’d remained firm. Christ, had he remained firm.
This was Eric and Immy’s wedding day. He had to be there for his best friend, just as much as Dina needed to be there for Immy.
Scott found Eric doing stress push-ups in his suite.
“I hope those aren’t cold-feet push-ups,” Scott laughed as he closed the door behind him.
“Not in a million years—have you seen Immy? I’d be a madman,” Eric huffed, sitting back on his knees. There had always been this ease between them. If Scott had had a brother, he imagined it would feel a lot like what he had with Eric.
“I got you a little wedding gift,” Scott said, pulling out his phone. Eric arched an eyebrow, as he re-centered his tie.
“Oh?”
“Here. Take a look.” Scott handed over his phone and watched in delight as Eric’s eyes widened at the picture.
“Is this what I think it is? Mate, are you serious?” Eric clapped an arm around Scott, pulling him into a hug. “A boat? A fucking boat?”
“You deserve it. How many years have we spent rowing in that shitty little rented pair.”
“Ah, I see. Really this is a present for you.”
“For you and me both. But there’s something else. Zoom in there.” Scott pointed at the left corner of the photo.
“Fuck off!” Eric exclaimed as he noticed it. Scott had named the new boat the Immy. “This is some seriously cheesy shit, but I love it. Seriously. Scott, thank you,” he said sincerely.
“What do you think Immy will make of it?”
“She’ll probably call us backward for deigning to do something so medieval as naming a boat after a woman, but I’m sure she’ll secretly love it.”
“Maybe you could even take her out in the boat once or twice,” Scott suggested.
“Ha. We tried that once. She counted the number of times I splashed her and then she wouldn’t speak to me for the corresponding amount of hours. My lovely wife-to-be does not enjoy the wet or the cold.”
“Not long until it’s just ‘wife.’?” Scott smiled. “You ready?”
—
The double doors to the grand ballroom of Honeywell House swung open to usher them inside. It was the kind of room that people dreamed about for their wedding, with white wood paneling on the walls, tasteful chandeliers, and floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the rolling hills and autumn-tinged trees of the estate.
In the corner of the room, a woman was playing a harp, the soft melody of “At Last” echoing through the space. Their cue to begin walking down the aisle.
From the ceiling, lanterns in sage green and robin’s egg blue hung like jewels, glowing gently. Flowers were gathered and tied to the seats that flanked the aisle: irises, bluebells, peonies. All of Immy’s favorite blooms, some of which weren’t even in season at this time of year. That had been a maid-of-honor task for Dina’s magical expertise. Immy had asked for multicolored sunflowers and Dina had made them for her.
“This is really happening,” Immy whispered through her veil, her arm linked with Dina’s. She was so glad her friend had asked her to walk her down the aisle.
Dina glanced over at Immy, but her eyes were focused on Eric, standing at the end of the aisle, his red hair ablaze in the sunlight cascading in through the window.
All the guests’ eyes were on Immy, their smiles wide, handkerchiefs dabbing away tears as they took in the beautiful bride.
Everyone except Scott. He met Dina’s gaze with a ferocity that took her breath away. The room fell away. The whole world fell away. It was just the two of them. His gaze held hers and she felt a tug, deep within her chest. A tug that was pulling her to him. It wasn’t just a desire to be near him, but to know him, his every oddity and penchant and habit. She wanted to see him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. She wanted to know exactly what he would order at every restaurant, what his comfort movies were, what songs he listened to when he needed to drown out the world.
Dina tried to stifle the feeling of dread biting at the heels of her joy. She should have known he’d be trouble for her, and she desperately didn’t want anything to happen to him. She thought of Alex, the chef she’d dated and the burns he’d received, and Eliza and her head injury. What would the hex do to Scott if she didn’t push him away now?
There was still no denying how she felt around him. Scott made her feel more whole, more complete. He made her want to be a better version of herself.
Tears pricked at her eyes, and she wanted Scott to come and kiss them away and tell her it would be all right. Maybe she could find a way to break the hex this time? Maybe Scott would reveal himself to be some kind of womanizing asshole, making it easier to walk away, but Dina knew that wasn’t the case.
She pushed back against the feeling that wanted to name itself, held the door closed as it prodded every chamber of her heart.
Anyone looking would just think that Dina’s tears were from happiness for her friend.
She caught a glimpse of her mum in the corner of her eye, and the knowing smile on her face as she took in Dina’s expression. Her mother knew she barely ever cried, and Dina bet that sly witch knew exactly what she was crying about now.
They reached the end of the aisle and Eric was smiling at Dina as he took Immy’s arm from hers and helped his bride onto the dais.
Dina moved numbly to stand at the side, her fingers gripping the bouquet. She wished there was more air in this room. And she wished for a future with Scott where they could be together and the hex would never hurt him.
Dina took her hope and pressed it down into a kernel in her heart. A small but heavy weight that sank into her stomach, viscous and bitter.
The ballroom was cavernous yet stuffy, and she trained her attention on a patch of dust motes visible in the rays of sunlight streaming in through the window. Dina quietly forced one deep breath and then another, as the harpist plucked the last few notes of the song.
At least now all she had to do was stand here, and smile. She could do that. Dina pasted a smile onto her face and kept her eyes firmly on Immy’s tear-streaked cheeks.
God, how selfish do you have to be to be crying about your own love life at your best friend’s wedding?
The beginning of the ceremony went by in a blur. Eric had the whole room laughing during his vows, although Immy’s reaction was more like laughter intermixed with sobs. Then Immy almost whispered her vows to Eric, as if her words were for him and him alone.
The officiant then led them through the more formal parts of the ceremony, and the exchange of rings. Now Dina was up. She snapped out of her haze.
Striding over to stand between the bride and groom, Dina began her handfasting.
She held in her hand three ribbons plaited together, all of them different colors. Red for passion, yellow for joy, and green for loyalty. Dina couldn’t imagine a couple better suited to each other and had beamed when they’d suggested she do a handfasting.
“If you could place your hands together, palm to palm,” she announced, her voice trembling a little. She didn’t usually mind speaking in front of people, but the emotions of the day were clearly taking their toll. She risked a glance at Scott, and as his warm smile enveloped her, she found it a little easier to breathe. Her voice steadied.
Dina took the plaited ribbons and began to wrap them ceremonially around Immy and Eric’s joined hands.
“These are the hands of your best friend, your lover, your partner, through all the trials and tribulations of your life, who on this day you have promised to love and support forever. These are the hands that will wipe tears from your eyes, and give you strength when you need it. These are the hands that will still be reaching for yours, even when you are old and gray and dreaming of sleep.”
Someone sniffed away tears in the audience, and Dina relaxed slightly. Crying aunt, check.
As she spoke, Dina let a small flurry of magic escape her fingertips, delicate and silk-like.
The magic wouldn’t change anything about Eric and Immy’s relationship; it would just help strengthen the bonds they’d already made. Dina liked to think of it this way: If Immy and Eric ever got into an argument over some trifling, unimportant thing, they would find themselves remembering this day, this moment. They would feel a tug on their wrist, urging them closer to each other, toward the familiar comfort of each other’s arms. Passion, joy, loyalty.
To Dina’s eyes, the magical bond glowed a deep gold. No one else would be able to see her magic, apart from her mum. Immy smiled up at Dina.
She stepped back and watched as the officiant pronounced them husband and wife. Eric folded Immy into his arms and Dina couldn’t help but feel the surge of joy in her heart.
After that, the ceremony was over. The harpist began playing again, this time a more upbeat romantic tune. Immy pulled Dina in for a bear hug with surprising strength given her smaller stature.
“It was perfect, thank you,” Immy cried into her hair.
“You don’t need to thank me for that, Imms, that’s all on you two.” Dina leaned back and took her friend’s cheeks in her hands. Immy was incandescent with joy, and it had rubbed off on Dina. Today wasn’t a day to wallow; there were plenty more days for that if she needed them.
As Dina stepped back, Immy and Eric were swarmed at the edge of the altar by their friends and family. She glanced around the room, her eyes instinctively searching for Scott. God, one night of hot, heavy nearly-sex and already she was lost to this man.
Suddenly, there was a large warm hand around hers. A growling, low voice in her ear. Warm breath sending tingles down the nape of her neck.
“Come with me,” Scott said, and he pulled Dina out of the crowded room. His hand enveloped hers entirely, tugging her gently down the hallway. He didn’t speak, didn’t even glance at her, but a small smile quirked the corners of his lips upward. Where was he taking her?
With a flash of a grin, Scott opened a door to a room off to the side. Some kind of antechamber, or maid’s room.
Honestly, Dina wasn’t paying it an iota of attention. Because Scott was there, and his arms were around her, and when she looked up at him his hair was doing that amazing, curly thing that it did. Scott tilted his face down to meet hers, smiling all the while.
The kiss was breathless, desperate. She needed to be closer to him—more than this. She needed his skin on her skin. His lips on her ear, his tongue trailing down her neck, between her breasts. He let out a muffled groan as he pried Dina’s breasts free from the constraints of her dress, taking one of them into his mouth. Scott’s hands grabbed hungrily at her thighs, and it was possessive—and Dina fucking loved it. She thanked the goddesses that she’d decided not to wear tights beneath her dress, giving Scott easy access to slip his hand beneath her already-soaked underwear.
A voice just outside the door. Fuck, someone was outside. The door handle began to twist, Dina’s heart flaring in alarm.
“Fuck. Not again,” Scott muttered, but he seemed to have more of his wits about him than Dina did.
He scooped her up and rushed into the nearby closet, which happily appeared to be mostly empty, save for a few coats (maybe they were in a cloakroom then?), and he managed to pull the door closed just as someone walked into the room.
It was pitch black inside the closet, and Dina was acutely aware that her breasts were still out, pressed against Scott’s heaving chest. She couldn’t see him, but she felt him lean down to whisper in her ear. “That was close.” His breath sent shivers across her collarbone.
“Yeah,” was all she managed to whisper back, her voice shaky. There were two voices in the room, and not ones she knew well. Wait, that was definitely the registrar. And the other voice…Martin, the steward. What was it with this man and interrupting her and Scott?
Even so, Dina didn’t mind being in an enclosed space with Scott. She could feel the thick bulge of his erection pressing against her hip. She bet if she took him in her mouth now, the tip of his cock would already be wet.
Scott seemed to have similar ideas, because his hands had moved to cup Dina’s butt cheeks, massaging them. He let out a sound that was partway between a moan and a vibration, as he slipped a finger, and then two, into Dina’s soaking pussy. Dina bit her lip, but a small squeak came out. They were going to need to be a lot quieter if they were going to do this.
“Such a pretty cunt,” Scott growled, moving lower. And then his face was buried between her legs. He lapped at her wetness with his tongue, first soft and then harder, flicking her clit in such a way that it sent shudders through Dina.
She never came this easily, this quickly. Yet now she could feel it building with each motion. Scott’s fingers plunged in and out of her, while his mouth sucked, kissed and did all sorts of wondrous things. He was everywhere at once. Dina ran her fingers through his hair, relishing the feeling of having him between her thighs. Like he was meant to be there. The voices still spoke on the other side of the door, but they were a whole world away. Nothing else mattered now.
“Come for me, good girl,” Scott whispered, his mouth still moving against her. Scott knew what Dina wanted; he would give it to her. Dina wrapped her legs around Scott’s upper back, resting them there. From the way Scott shifted himself, she knew he liked it. And—oh fuck—she couldn’t hold on anymore, not when he did that thing. The orgasm swept over her in delectable waves, bright spots of light dancing before her eyes.
Only she wasn’t blacking out, there really was light in the closet, and it was coming from her. Small thimbles of light bubbled up and out of her skin, floating around them like dandelion seeds. Or fireflies. Scott looked up from between her legs, his face smeared and shining with her orgasm. His eyes widened as he took in the sight.
“Well, that’s definitely never happened to me before.”
How many times in Dina’s life had she orgasmed? Not once had actual sparks of magical light burst from her body. Immy and Rosemary were going to flip a lid when Dina told them about this. Maybe it was this place, its magic. Or maybe it was Scott.
Scott looked at her in the faint, golden glow. His face was full of wonder, and something else, something that made Dina’s heart soar. Her pulse thrummed in her ears.
“Amazing, you’re amazing,” he said. Not an ounce of fear or apprehension.
“I don’t know how it happened,” Dina whispered back, but she couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. A devilish grin appeared on Scott’s face.
“I know how.” He smiled, before burying his head between her legs again, and shattering Dina’s world into a million glowing pieces.