Chapter 7
7
ROMAN
I ’ve known Josephine Delvaux for a long time. Not personally, just in the sphere of Mystic Hollows’ magical families. She’s never been anything special. In fact, she’s always been slightly mousy. I don’t like shy women. I don’t want to cajole or convince someone to let me fuck them. Women throw themselves at me. Why would I search out someone who’s scared of their own shadow? I don’t have time for that. And in the last few years, when I’ve felt next to nothing when another has touched me, there hasn’t been a point.
My curse has worsened over the years. It was a slow loss of feeling like sand draining out of an hourglass. Sometimes, I think it would have been better to lose all feeling at once instead of this sluggish march into nothingness.
I cock my head and examine the woman in front of me. This is not the wallflower I assumed her to be. Not some plain witch who’s interchangeable with the next. It’s as though blinders have been lifted from my eyes, and I’m seeing her for the first time.
Josephine’s head is tipped back. Her plush lips are painted in a glorious red that makes her skin look flawless. Earlier today, she appeared washed out and tired, but there’s no sign of that now. Her skin glows with vitality. The deep red dress she’s wearing is an absolute sin. It clings to her body, giving me a glimpse of the perfect curve of her hips and the dip in her waist. Climbing the stairs, her ass was directly in front of me, the dress hugging her deliciously. I should get a fucking medal for not grabbing it with both hands.
I haven’t stopped thinking about Josephine since our encounter earlier today. Even that’s unusual, but nothing was more surprising than what happened downstairs.
I touched her skin and could feel everything.
The heat from her body, the softness of her skin. She looked just as shocked as if she also hadn’t felt the touch of another human in years. I don’t know what her curse is, but I doubt the two of us, one light witch and one dark, would be stuck in the same hellish nightmare.
For the first time in years, I savor the feeling of touching someone. My fingers brush over her cheek, and my eyes slide close at how good this simple gesture feels.
“How are you doing this?” I open my eyes and stare down at Josephine’s parted lips. She watches me through lowered lids. A slice of apprehension cuts through the fog of pleasure. It slinks under my skin like an oily serpent.
“Me? Is this a trick?” I grab her hips and tug her body close to mine. I mean for it to be a show of control. To demonstrate that I’m not some weak-willed boy to succumb to whatever ruse she’s trying to pull. Instead, I lose all ability to think the second her body’s flush with mine.
I don’t know which one of us groans louder. If she's wielding a spell over me, then she’s a shitty witch who’s forgotten to protect herself from her own magic.
“What kind of trick? I don’t even know what’s happening?” Josephine’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t pull away.
The library is dark. The shelves, the furniture, everything about it exudes stateliness, except for the woman sinking into my arms. Her body is soft and liquid. Her green eyes shine in the dim room, their emerald color rimmed in black and utterly hypnotizing. If this is a spell, I’m not going to let it go to waste. I’m going to seize any moment of feeling and take advantage while I can.
“Fuck it. I don’t care what this is.” I splay my hand over her lower back, pressing her willing body tight to mine. I drag my other hand up her back, luxuriating at the silken perfection of her skin. The warmth pulsing from her. The subtle hum of her magic thrumming and tangling with my own. It’s as though there are two threads twining together in an elegant dance. They aren’t clashing like I assumed light and dark magic would. It feels nearly as good as touching her does.
My fingers tangle in the long strands of her black hair. I’ve never felt anything so soft. Josephine’s hands tremble as they slide up my arms. She doesn’t stop there. Her hands search until she finds the bare skin of my neck.
We’re both breathing hard, and all we’ve done is fucking touch each other’s arms. I’m not some hopeless romantic. I don’t even give a shit about people’s feelings most of the time, but fuck if I’m not more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life.
I stare into her eyes for one brief moment, my lips hovering over hers as we share a breath.
“I’m not going to waste this,” I whisper, and then lower my mouth to capture hers in a scorching kiss.
If you had asked me in my teens what I thought about kissing, I would’ve said it was a stopover to better things. But I haven’t kissed anyone in so long, and I swear it never felt like this. Josephine’s lips are soft and warm, so damn warm. Our bodies sway like we’re dancing, but the music from downstairs can’t be heard up here. There’s nothing but the rhythm of our breaths and the thrum of my heartbeat.
Josephine’s nails scrape against the nape of my neck, and I shiver. Fucking shiver. With a groan, I deepen the kiss and pull her body closer to mine. My hands press into her back and ass, but she’s already as close as physically possible without me being inside her. I pull back from the kiss and stare down at her. I’m sure there’s a dumbfounded look on my face, but she looks just as stunned. Her fingers trace over her swollen bottom lip, her tongue chasing the movement a moment later.
There’s a magnetic pulse in the air. I don’t know if it’s magic or chemistry, but it sizzles. Josephine whines quietly, then tugs my head down for another kiss. I obey, drunk on the pleasure of her touch, her kiss. Fingers work at the buttons of my shirt like she’s desperate to reveal my skin. Suddenly, there’s not enough of her body on display for me.
I push the small strap of her dress off one shoulder, releasing her lips so I can paint a trail of kisses down her neck and collarbone. Josephine puffs out a breath, and her head rolls back. She’s worked her hands inside my shirt, and she clutches at my bare shoulders like she’s afraid I’m going to disappear. It would take a hurricane to rip me from her right now.
I push at the other strap of her dress, but the fabric is trapped by her arms. With a growl, I pull away from her long enough to free the straps and expose her breasts. Her skin glows in the shadowy library. The scent of books and the dark wood makes me feel like I’ve been transported to another time before I had so many problems.
Josephine stills, holding her breath, as I devour the sight of her half-undressed. I’d fumble for some compliment or pretty words, but I can’t keep my hands and mouth from her long enough to get them out. I lower my head and suck the tight peak of her nipple into my mouth. Her hands are back on my head, holding me tight to her while I suck and lick at her flesh.
Her dress is gorgeous, but right now, it’s too much fucking fabric. I gather and tug, exposing her long legs one inch at a time while I drag my mouth across her chest and suck on her other nipple. I could spend hours tasting every inch of her skin, letting her touch me anywhere she wants. Except somewhere in the back of my mind, I know we’re still at the Delvaux party, on the Lumen coven’s side of the river. There’s still a possibility that this is a set-up.
Why, though? What could Josephine or even the Lumen coven have to gain from this?
Dragging my mouth back up to meet Josephine’s, I pick her up and carry her over to the couch. She sprawls out like a limp doll, blinking up at me with glazed eyes. If this is a trick, she’s an incredible actor. She holds out her hand like she’s desperate for me to keep touching her, but I grin and drop to my knees in front of the couch. Josephine’s breath hitches, her bare chest heaving. She lifts her hips as I slide my hands up her skirt and push it up to her waist. Her eyes shine extra bright, her cheeks are flushed. She’s somehow both vulnerable, staring down her body at me, and a siren at the same time.
“Fuck me,” I grunt when I realize she’s not wearing underwear.
“They ruined the lines of the dress…” Josephine sucks on her bottom lip as though uncertain about my response.
My palms skim her thighs, and I marvel at the silken smoothness. She’s so damn warm. I dip my head and press kisses to one thigh and then the next before I push them apart. Josephine makes a surprised sound, her legs seizing for one moment before she lets me shove them open, her body melting for me again.
Her hand lands on my cheek in a way that’s oddly sweet. Her nails scrape over the stubble that's appeared since I shaved earlier. As if I don’t have any control of my body, I turn my head into her palm and press a kiss there. What the fuck am I doing? With a shake of my head, I drop my face between her thighs. I’m done messing around. Without warning, I lick up the seam of her pussy.
“Oh God,” Josephine gasps, and I groan when her hand fists in my hair. I’m so fucking hard my dick is straining against my pants. I drag my tongue from her entrance to her clit and work on my belt buckle with one hand.
“It has to be magic,” Josephine murmurs, her head rocking back and forth as her hips buck against my mouth.
I can’t look away from the tortured expression on her face. I know it’s not pain pulling at her features, though, because I feel it too. The desperation, the disbelief that I feel her touch, and it’s more than I remember it being. The sensations are stronger, more vivid, wilder.
There’s something in the pure desperation she’s radiating that unleashes a monster in me. I’m no longer a man, but a beast starved for touch. A creature who found a willing victim to inflict all the need that’s been pent up for years.
I feast.
I fuck Josephine with my tongue. Lash at her clit with feverous flicks, sucking and making an absolute mess of her pussy until my face is soaked. I work my cock out of my pants and slide my hand from base to tip. I almost fucking come right then with one jerk. The closer Josephine gets to coming, the harder it is to stave off my own release.
My hand strokes my cock with the same urgent need my mouth devours Josephine’s pussy. Her hand tightens in my hair to the point of pain, and I relish it. Soaking in the sensation of not just feeling something but feeling everything.
Josephine’s back bows off the couch. Her thighs clamp around my head until I’m sure I’m going to suffocate between them. And if I did, I’d die fucking happy.
“Oh. Oh, hell.”
I lift my head, and she makes a keening sound. “Say my name when you come all over my face.”
“Fuck, Roman. I’m…”
I don’t need Josephine to tell me she’s coming. Her entire body shakes and seizes as her orgasm blasts through her. My eyes are on her face, and I’m stunned by the exquisite beauty of her release. Her eyes are glazed with pleasure; her mouth parted with a sigh. It’s the perfect picture of surrender, and it’s the final straw for what’s left of my self-control. I can’t hold back any longer. I pump my cock and come all over my hand with an obscenely loud groan.
Josephine slowly releases the hold she has on me with her thighs, and I sit back on my heels. With nothing else handy, I wipe my hand off on the corner of my shirt and then drag my other hand over the mess on my mouth and chin.
Awareness is slowly coming back into Josephine’s eyes. I see the moment panic sneaks in. Just as she starts to sit up and straighten her dress, the door to the library swings open with a loud creak.
“Jo?” A woman’s soft voice reaches us before the person enters the room. I scramble to help Josephine, pulling down her skirt while she yanks up the straps of her dress to cover her bare chest.
Piper Beaumont, with all her vibrant red hair and downcast eyes, walks into the room. She stops short the moment she sees us.
“Oh. Um. I’m sorry.” She whips around like she’s going to run out of here, only to stop abruptly again. Slowly turning back to us like it’s taking all the effort in her body, she gnaws nervously on her lower lip. “Jo? Are you okay?”
Piper’s eyes dash to me before she lowers them, like she’s afraid I’m going to attack her. Still, that’s not stopping her from standing up to me if her friend is in trouble.
A second later, Piper stumbles forward with an oof . Ambrose appears behind her, his arms snatching her body to him before she falls on her face.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you lurking in the dark,” he says with a laugh. His eyes widen as he finds me and Josephine across the room. It’s dark, but there’s a possibility that Ambrose and Piper are both getting a full-frontal view of my dick.
I adjust and zip up my pants, not bothering to tuck my shirt back in. A zipper has never sounded so loud.
“I was afraid you’d been kidnapped and murdered, Blackthorn. I was looking for your dead body somewhere in this house.” Ambrose raises his eyebrows. There’s an absolutely delighted grin on the golden prick’s face. “Looks like I was partially right. Although I suppose a petite mort doesn’t quite count.”
“Oh God.” Josephine pushes up off the couch, but I’m literally at her feet. She has to do an awkward maneuver to avoid pushing her crotch in my face. Not like it matters at this point. She nearly tips backward, but I grab her hips to steady her.
She peers down at me, eyes wide. Her breaths quicken as her alarm turns to full-blown panic. I release her as soon as she has her footing, her bare toes peeking out from the edge of her dress. I don’t know why it strikes me as particularly vulnerable and human all at once. The sight makes me want to gather her in my arms and hold her tight.
Instead, I stand, but keep my distance. I’m still not sure what this was. A spell. Some other magic. My head is muddled and I’m probably too drunk to have an actual conversation right now that wouldn’t insult Josephine’s family and coven.
“I should go.” I nod at Josephine and then to Piper. With a jerk of my head at Ambrose, I exit the room. He’s still holding Piper, and I’m not sure which of them looks more shocked.
Join the club.