Chapter 28
Scott was both the luckiest and unluckiest man in the world. Unluckiest because that morning on the way to the museum, he’d stepped into an open grate on the pavement and could have seriously hurt himself. Then he’d only narrowly avoided being bludgeoned to death by a falling roof tile by Russell Square tube station. Luckiest, because he had just spotted Dina, walking up the steps of the museum toward him. And she was wearing a tight pair of black leggings.
Scott cast his mind back. Had he told her about that particular fantasy in the week since they’d returned to London? He didn’t think so. But then again, post-sex Scott was liable to tell Dina all sort of truths. Most nights, they stayed up late, intermittently talking and making love. Because there was no denying now that that’s what they were doing.
He felt for the spare key to his flat in his pocket. He was planning on giving it to Dina later.
He couldn’t drag his eyes away from her plump thighs as she walked up to him. He shifted his already lengthening cock in a way that hopefully wouldn’t be too obvious in his slim-cut suit.
Dina must have noticed him shifting because her face broke into a mischievous grin.
“Hello there,” she said, leaning into his embrace. “I see you’ve missed me.”
It had been only half a day since he’d been to the café to pick up a pastry, along with a kiss or two, but she wasn’t wrong. She ran a finger along his neck, seemingly to check that the hamsa necklace she’d given him was still there. He hadn’t taken it off.
Scott kissed her by way of hello, and whispered roughly in her ear: “Are these leggings expensive?”
“They’re replaceable.”
Scott grabbed a handful of her ass, not caring that there were hundreds of tourists milling around them on the steps. Thankfully, they wouldn’t have to deal with them for long, as the museum was closing for the day.
“Good,” he growled. “Because I’m going to rip them open later.”
He delighted in the shiver that rippled through her.
Scott had been excited for this day all week. The exhibition was almost ready for its launch next Tuesday, and enough of the final touches had been made that Dr. MacDougall had signed off on Scott showing Dina around.
They strolled through the main atrium, Scott’s hand resting on Dina’s lower back, perhaps a little lower than strictly necessary to guide her through the throngs of people exiting the gift shop.
“I thought you should know I’m not wearing anything under these leggings.”
Scott groaned, and seriously contemplated just dragging her back to his office and locking the door.
“Christ, Dina,” he choked out. “How am I supposed to string two sentences together now I know that there’s only one slip of fabric between my mouth and your pussy?”
Now it was Dina’s turn to moan.
Scott pulled her through an unassuming glass door. Next week, there would be a crowd queueing to enter Symbols of Protection here. But for now, they could enjoy the exhibition space unencumbered by swathes of visitors. Even the exhibition hall would be empty of people at this time, all the finishing touches to the sound and lighting to be made tomorrow afternoon.
“Here we are,” he announced. The main exhibition poster hung above them, showing a golden acorn that had been crafted in the sixteenth century, likely worn by a merchant’s wife while her husband was away traveling.
“Wow!” Dina exhaled beside him. It struck Scott how badly he wanted to impress her. How much he wanted Dina to be proud of him.
The first piece of the exhibition was a brass statue of a dog, placed on a podium at waist height. The dog was curled up, its carved eyes closed, as if it was sound asleep. Most of the statue was a mottled brown color, apart from the dog’s snout, which was a shining brassy gold.
“How come that sign says you can touch the statue?” Dina asked. “I thought touching was strictly not permitted in museums.”
“Normally, yes, and this is the only piece you’re allowed to touch. This”—Scott reached out to pet the cold nose of the dog—“is Frank. Since 1874 he’s been sitting on the grave of his owner, James Smythe, who lived up in Inverness. James’s family had this statue of Frank created after the dog passed away, because after James died, Frank kept running away and they’d find him sleeping on his master’s grave.”
“That’s so sad, and so sweet.”
“Isn’t it? But then people visiting the cemetery would pet Frank’s nose as they visited their loved ones’ graves, and all too soon Frank’s snout became an urban legend. It’s said that rubbing his snout brings you good luck.”
Dina reached out and stroked the brass dog’s nose.
“Thanks for the luck, Frank,” she said quietly.
They continued the tour of the exhibition. Scott let Dina lead the way mostly; when she showed interest in a specific object they’d pause and he’d tell her a little about how it came to be here.
“You know, I’ve been wondering something,” he said, as they looked through the glass at a carving of a jade dragon. “Can you tell if any of these artifacts are actually magical? Since I was a kid I’ve always wondered…always hoped that perhaps some lucky charms might really work.”
Dina scrunched up her face in a frown and looked at the jade dragon.
“It’s hard to know. There are so many different types of magic, and there’s a lot about them I don’t know. Take Frank, for example. Perhaps he didn’t start off as a magical object. But over the years, with every hopeful person rubbing his snout and wishing for good luck, who’s to say that all that wishing and all that hope didn’t turn into something real? But with some objects, like that one there”—Dina said, pointing to a Native American Zuni bear fetish (which some colonial settlers had “sold” to the British Museum back in the 1800s, in a dubious affair)—“that one holds strong magic. I can feel it even through the glass.”
They stood before the spotlit stand, looking down at the blue stone bear.
“What does it feel like?”
“Like someone found a way to contain all this wildness and power in stone. And I can smell pine and snow-tinged air, somehow.”
Scott sniffed the air, but whatever magic Dina was sensing wasn’t open to him.
“We think one of their spiritual practitioners would have carved this bear. The Zuni people believed that the spirit of the animal remains alive in the stone, and will help whoever possesses it. If the exhibition travels to the U.S., we would return the stone to its rightful home with the Museum of Indian Arts and Culture in Santa Fe.”
Dina looked up at him, her hand finding his.
“It’s incredible, what you’re doing. This whole exhibition is incredible.”
His heart swelled. But there was one more item he wanted to show her.
“Come this way,” he said. Tucked into a corner of the gallery was a nondescript exhibition cabinet. In it was a silver Amazigh amulet, taken from a village in the Atlas mountains.
“Is that—?”
“Yes. It’s Amazigh. Do you recognize the symbols?”
Dina leaned closer. She shook her head. “I wish I did.”
“The one on the top is the net-and-fish symbol. It’s a protective charm. The symbol below it is the weaving comb. It’s meant to represent fertility and creativity, but also balance. We think—though many of the details have been lost—that this was likely given as a part of a dowry, or as a proposal gift.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said, but Scott could see the sadness in her face reflected in the cabinet glass. He pulled her back so she was leaning against his chest.
“What’s wrong?” he murmured into her hair.
“It’s just that you know more about my own heritage than I do. I don’t even know the name of the Amazigh tribe we come from, though I’m not sure my mum does either. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like, if I knew more about my past. Are there other forms of magic tied to my history? Were their witches in my bloodline generations ago? Were they venerated as healers, or were they outcast? I just…It makes me sad to think about it.”
“I’m sorry, Dina. You know, I wonder…”
“What?”
“Well, there’s this map in the archives that shows all the Amazigh tribes in Morocco and where they were located. It’s from the 1800s so it may be outdated, but we could use it to find out what tribe you come from.”
“Could we?” She turned around in his arms, excited. “I would love that so much.”
“We’ll do it then. I’ll put in a request to the archives for a scan of the map and we can show it to your mum next time we’re there.”
It was so easy planning a future with Dina. She made it so easy.
Scott caressed her cheek with his hand, kissing her deeply.
They headed back to the exhibition entrance, the prospect of getting Dina behind the locked door of his office proving so appealing that Scott didn’t even notice the falling poster. It collapsed onto the marble floor with a loud crash. A few centimeters closer and it would have hit him.
“Fuck,” he said, jumping back, instinctively pushing Dina behind him. “That was close.”
Surprisingly, she looked more shaken than he felt.
“Too close,” she muttered, frowning down at the collapsed poster. “I have a bag of herbs I’d like you to start carrying with you in your pocket, if that’s okay?”
Whatever would make her happy, his little witch.
“Of course,” Scott said, sending a message to the construction team to fix the poster before he all but carried Dina to his office.
—
“It’s so cozy in here,” Dina said, running a hand across Scott’s mahogany desk. He watched the trail of her finger hungrily.
“What were you expecting, some kind of man cave?” he said, teasing. He turned to lock the door behind them and thanked the heavens that his office only had the one small window. The place was empty now, but still, he’d need Dina to be quiet.
When he turned back around, she was sitting on the edge of his desk.
“Thank you for showing me your exhibition,” she said, pulling off her fluffy red jumper. Underneath it, she was only wearing a thin T-shirt, and he could see the stiff peaks of her nipples through the material. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, sitting on his desk like that, her legs just open enough that he could see the seam between her inner thighs. No underwear.
When she reached down and caressed her breasts with her own hands, all his restraint vanished. He strode over, capturing her lips in a long deep kiss. Scott wasted no time removing her top, his mouth finding the heat of her breasts. The small sigh Dina made was enough to have his cock pressing against his trousers again.
“Been dreaming about having you on this desk,” he hissed, as Dina used her hands to unbuckle his belt, pulling his cock free. She palmed him, rubbing a thumb over the sensitive tip. Christ, she unmade him.
“I hope you haven’t forgotten what you promised you’d do to these leggings,” she whispered, nipping his ear with her teeth.
Oh no, he hadn’t forgotten.
Scott spun Dina around so she was facing away from him, pressed against the desk. He started by planting gentle kisses to the nape of her neck, the soft curve of her shoulder, relishing the goosebumps he left in his wake.
His calloused hands felt rough compared to the soft suppleness of Dina’s breasts, but she arched her back as he stroked her there, feeling the stiff points of her nipples.
“Down on the desk,” he instructed. “Good girl.”
Dina did as she was told, and Scott licked down the warm skin of her spine until he reached the waistband of her leggings.
Going down on his knees, Scott ran his hands over Dina’s plump buttocks. He’d always considered himself more of a boob man until he’d met Dina. Her ass was going to haunt him for the rest of his days if he didn’t have it right now. Even just holding it through the leggings was making his hard-on ache.
“You sure?” Scott asked. “I’ll buy you a new pair.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” she whispered, hissing out a breath of pleasure as Scott ripped open the seam of the leggings in one swift motion.
She looked like heaven, lying bare for him.
“Are you trying to kill me, sweetheart?”
The last of Scott’s words were muffled as he pressed his face into the delicious seam of Dina’s ass, trailing his tongue along the slick heat of her. And there she was. Dripping and plump, ready for him.
“Look at you, so fucking wet already.” He licked her sweet cunt again with firm pressure, and Dina let out a broken moan that sounded like his name.
He drank her in, savoring each lick, sucking and kissing. Teasing her clit with his tongue as he plunged his fingers into her warm depths, again and again, until she clenched around him and let out a cry.
“Tell me what you want, Dina.”
“I need your cock, need your come,” Dina whispered, looking back at Scott with an expression of pure lust. He didn’t need asking twice.
Opening the rip in her leggings further, Scott pulled down his trousers. There was something about having Dina mostly naked, splayed out across his desk, while he was fully dressed, that almost sent him into a frenzy.
“Fuck, you’re perfect, Dina, you’re perfect,” Scott hissed as he settled his cock between her ass cheeks, relishing the view. She was so wet for him, so ready.
He teased the tip of his cock right at her entrance, desperate to feel her smooth heat around him. Dina hissed, shifting herself so she could take more than just the tip.
“Should I make you beg for it, Dina?” He reached around her, caressing her clit with his thumb.
“ Please, ” she moaned, and that was all it took. Scott thrust in, pleasure cascading from the tip of his cock all around his trembling body.
Everything about Dina was perfect, and she was his, she was his.
Scott fisted his hand in Dina’s curls; every inch of him sank into her warmth as she writhed in pleasure.
“Come for me again, sweetheart, come all over this cock.”
It wasn’t long before she shuddered against him, letting out a delicious moan.
Scott rolled her over and scooped her into his arms, resting her ass on the desk. Down on his knees he tasted her again, sweetness and salt and something indescribably Dina.
“My turn,” she whimpered, and pulled him up so that he was leaning against the desk and she was on her knees, taking his cock in her mouth. She was every one of his fantasies come to life.
Scott groaned, holding her curls back as she licked from his sac to his tip. She looked up at him, complete trust in her eyes.
“I want you to fuck my mouth.”
Scott was lost to oblivion. The way Dina looked up at him, her pretty mouth closed around his cock—it was enough. His entire body shook, thrusting again and again into the heat of her throat until he was inches away from orgasming.
“Can I?” he hissed, and Dina nodded. He let himself go and Dina swallowed his hot come, drinking him in, licking away the mess. Her shredded leggings lay in a pile at their feet. She would need to mend them with magic. Scott pulled her up into his arms, wiping her mouth clean with his thumb. Both of them were sweaty, tired, and perfectly happy.