Sex With Your Hex Read online

  “What if I said I wanted your love more than your virginity,” said Drake in a low, hot voice.

  Confusion and champagne roiled in her stomach. She placed her palm against her trembling belly and tried to soak in the meaning of Drake’s fury, of his words. “If you loved me so much, why did you screw that green-haired hussy?”

  His nostrils flared and a muscle in his jaw ticced. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Hah. Won’t is more like it.” Rosemary allowed her own anger and hurt to erupt. “You wouldn’t kiss me. Wouldn’t touch me. Wouldn’t put a little ding into your nobility, into your duty, into your pride. Was it so wrong to want you then? To love you? If we were to be Bound, why wait for the pleasures we could give each other?”

  She saw the ribbon of pain in his eyes before his gaze shuttered. Now she wondered if she had misjudged Drake. And not judged the nymph, a creature known as both wily and pitiless. Has Drake ever given me a reason to not trust him? After the Binding spell had been cast, they had spent a lot of time together as children and as teens.

  As a child two years older than her, he’d been protective and kind. When she bloomed into a young woman, he gave her the attention a boy gave to a girl he liked. He never went beyond the bounds of propriety. If she teased him too long or pushed him too far, he’d whisper, “When the time is right, lass, nothin’ and no one will stop me from making you mine.”

  The Scottish accent had always sent delightful shivers through her. She had believed him, trusted him, loved him…and then…she had witnessed him plunging his cock into the ripe pussy of that harlot nymph. Hurt ripped through her again and with it, the knowledge of what she’d tried to hide from her own heart.

  Be-damned! I love him.

  This time she couldn’t prevent the tears. They rolled down her cheeks. Her chest felt like it was on fire, but she wouldn’t give in to the sobs. Wails clogged her throat, suffocating her. She clenched her teeth together to prevent the childish, foolish urge to rail and rage and weep.

  “You can’t forgive me.” Drake moved away from her. His fists clenched, but his expression was blank. “Verra well then. We have not completed the final act of Binding, Rosie. If’n you want to be released, say the word. I will break the pledge and give you freedom.”

  Chapter Two

  Drake watched Rosemary struggle with her emotions. He saw the shock in her eyes, but her expression lacked what he dreaded most—relief and joy. Thank the Goddess! Maybe she didn’t want to be rid of him.

  “You know how to break the Binding.” Her voice quivered. “And if so, then you know what will happen to the one who reverses the spells and revokes the pledge.”

  “The betrayer will be stripped of his magic, his property and his ability to procreate.”

  “Sterilized,” she said, her tone horrified. “With no money, no magic and no friends. You would be shunned forever. An Outsider until you died.”

  “Aye.”

  “And you would offer this because…because…be-damned, I don’t even know why. You hate me that much?”

  He rolled his eyes, but truthfully, the insolent gesture belied the tightness of his gut, the breath stalled in his lungs. She sounded outraged but not willing to condemn him to hell. “It is because I love you that I make the offer. How can I ask you to share your life with a man you don’t respect?”

  “I never said I didn’t respect you,” she snapped. “I said I was pissed off that you screwed a nymph.”

  “You didna speak to me for three years!”

  “Well, I was mad.”

  “Father Earth!” roared Drake. “Are ye Bound to me or not, lass?”

  “You know your brogue gets worse when you get all emotional?”

  “Rosie…” His voice was rife with warning.

  She wiped her eyes, smearing the kohl so badly, she looked like a drunk raccoon. And he didn’t care. His Rosie could be covered in mud and smell like a compost pile and she’d still be the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. She’d still be his. And nothing she did or said would ever break his trust, his love. Pain stabbed him true and deep. She didn’t feel the same intense emotions for him, though. If she had loved him more, believed in him more…it would’ve made all the difference.

  “I won’t let you off that easy, Drake. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”

  She attempted to sashay by him, but he wouldn’t allow her the dignity of escape. He was tired of her running away from him. Running away from them and what they could have together. He gathered her into his arms and pushed back the loose tendrils of her blonde hair.

  “My darlin’ Rosie,” he murmured. His lowered his head and watched her eyes widen in stunned anticipation.

  Slowly, oh-so slowly, he brushed his lips across hers.

  He shuddered with the pleasure derived from that sweet touch. Her gasp feathered his mouth and he breathed in the essence of her. Champagne. Desire. Rosie.

  Angling his mouth over hers, he tasted her again. Her lips were soft as the petals of a flower, still lightly slick from her lipstick. He kissed her until her mouth was swollen and ripe, the pink gloss rubbed away to nothing.

  Her breathing was erratic, her eyes dazed, and her arms limp around his neck. His body was tense with longing, with need. And his cock was hard as an oak tree. Cupping her ass, he brought her close, slipped his hard length between the vee of her thighs.

  “Drake. Oh. Uh…wow.”

  He smiled against her mouth then took her lips again, worshipping the contours, memorizing the shape, testing the sweetness that yet waited for him.

  Hunger for his soul mate burned through him. He had wanted to wait for her. It shamed him that his first experience had been with Andromeda, the deceitful bitch. But she had tricked him… Stop thinking about it, you fool. The woman you love is finally in your arms!

  With his tongue, he traced the seam of her lips then broke through the slight resistance and dipped inside for a real taste. She moaned into his mouth, her sigh of compliance as heady as champagne. Her plump mouth was juicy, reminding him of just-picked strawberries, tangy sugar.

  Her tongue met his, engaging in a teasing dance that mimicked another kind of penetration and motion. Joy sang through him and intertwined with the heat of his passion.

  “Rosie,” he whispered as he broke the kiss. His breathing was tattered, his heart raging. “I would take you right now, love. But you deserve that your first time be special. Rose petals. Silk sheets. Candles. And music.” He had planned it all. They’d spell themselves into the honeymoon suite he’d created at their castle. He would show her how much he loved her, needed her and wanted to Bind with her.

  Rosemary blinked up at him. “Oh fuck that.” She slipped out of his grasp and knelt, flipping up the edge of his kilt. “Hot damn! You are naked under your skirt.”

  “’Tis a kilt,” he corrected, “and you shouldna be lookin’ at the—oooooh.” His eyes almost crossed as she went to work on his balls. She suckled one testicle then the other and kept switching—suckling, kissing, tormenting—until he lost all mental functions. “Now, Rosie, you shouldna—aaaaah.” Her tongue whipped up his cock, a snake of wet pleasure that impaired his ability to breathe. She drew the tip of his penis into the warm heat of her mouth then she—oh Goddess—she kept going. An’ goin’. Until she’d taken all of him.

  Ravenous, she was. She practiced taking his full length over and over. Her eagerness outweighed her inexperience and soon she managed a rhythm that included not only suction and movement, but the unbelievable sensual laving of her tongue.

  “Rosie, stop!” He yanked away from her devilish mouth and glared down at her. “You’re going to make me come.”

  “Oh good.” She crawled under his kilt, dug her nails into his ass and took his cock again, her rhythm doubled, her tongue flicking fast and furious…and oh damn!

  The orgasm ripped through him with an intensity that almost buckled his knees. His hands fisted into Rosemary’s silky hair as he came, pumping into her
mouth. She drank from him, a purr in her throat. Her tongue soothed and licked until the pulsing of his cock receded and, unfortunately, so did its hardness. She kissed the tip and leaned back to look up at him.

  He met her gaze and grinned at her self-satisfied expression. He knelt next to her and cupped her face. “Thank you, Rosie. That was…amazing. A beautiful gift from my bride.”

  “Hmmm. When do I get a gift?” Her smile was mischievous and sent an arrow of lust right into his groin.

  “No worries. I plan to reciprocate, darlin’.”

  He leaned down to kiss her, but she reared away. “Drake! I just…uh, you know.”

  “I dinna fear the taste of my seed on your lips, Rosie. Let me kiss you.” The second time he leaned toward her, she opened her mouth for him and he kissed her fully, his tongue gently warring with hers. He trailed kisses across her jaw, behind her ear, and down her neck. He nipped her collarbone.

  “Drake, I’m ready for the rose petals and candles and music.”

  “Anything for you, Rosemary Dundrury.”

  Her eyes were soft and wet, but this time with lust and, yes, he recognized the love there too. She loved him. Maybe not as much as he loved her, but as long as she was his wife, he would be happy.

  But would his Rosie be happy…or miserable?

  * * * * *

  Rosemary sat at the edge of the humongous four-poster bed and watched Drake wiggle off her heels. She’d taken a very few minutes to wash her face and would’ve undressed too, except Drake insisted on de-clothing her. Soft, wordless music drifted in the air, the rose petals sprinkled on the bed and floor were fragrant, and the many lit candles gave the room a romantic glow.

  Drake’s fingers drifted across her ankle and cupped her heel. Then he gave her a massage. She groaned in pleasure. “Oh Goddess, that feels good.”

  “I give really good foot,” he said with a wicked grin. He applied his magical hands to feet, calves, knees, thighs. The tension in her muscles melted, but with his hot hands stroking her flesh, another kind of tension built in her. His hands traveled under her dress, following the sleek line of hose to the lace edging.

  “What do we have here?” He slipped his forefinger underneath the silk perimeter. “Stand up, love.”

  She did as he bade, raising her arms and allowing him to take off her dress. His look of glazed desire made her flesh tingle.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, his brogue thickening.

  Most of the time, his accent wasn’t that noticeable. Much to Rosemary’s disappointment, Drake managed a cultured, formal tone when conversing. It gave her no small amount of pleasure to realize he lost his civility with her. He’d been using thick brogue nearly all day. That accent was almost enough to give a girl an orgasm.

  “I want to see your breasts,” he said with an ache his voice.

  A glimmer of uncertainty sliced through her ribboning desire. She stalled his effort to take off the camisole. “I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. I’m not…big.”

  “Really?” He rubbed his chin. “Not big, eh? Well, we can always find a spell for breast enlargement.”

  “What!” Outrage bubbled through her. “You would use magic to fix my lack of cleavage?”

  “I dinna know. I have to see the specimens to make a decision.” He stripped off the camisole. His gaze went dark, she noted happily, and he seemed to lose his ability to talk. Then he said hoarsely, “I need to feel them and taste them. Test ’em out. Determine how much bigger they should be.”

  Rosemary was on to his game now. Spell for breast enlargement, indeed! Drake didn’t seem inclined to do more than look at her chest. Granted, his expression suggested he was a starving man gaping at a feast.

  Biting back a grin, she cupped her breasts and squeezed. “Size of oranges. See? Pitiful.” She jiggled them and Drake moaned. “And my nipples…inadequate, I fear.” Using her forefingers, she flicked the nubs into turgid points then twisted them. Pleasure zinged through her at the slightly rough treatment. “Oh wow. That felt really good.”

  “Argh-ugh!” Drake dove forward and they fell onto the bed. Rosemary laughed and tried to wiggle away…but not too much. He grabbed her arms and raised them above her head. “Hold your hands together, love. And don’t you move until I’ve examined your luscious oranges in detail.”

  Rosemary flattened her palms against the smooth wood of the headboard and waited. Drake was patient. Too patient. He seemed to want to savor her when all she felt was the insatiable need to gobble him up. He nuzzled the space between her breasts, kissing the soft flesh thoroughly before veering right. With his tongue, he encircled her small pink areola. Her nipple was hard, the point aching for his mouth. But nooooo…he tortured her with small, sweet kisses and quick stabs of his tongue.

  “Drake…please.”

  He looked at her as his mouth hovered over her nipple. “Please what?”

  “Are you serious?” She looked from him to her breast. “Do you need a map?”

  Chuckling, he flicked the peak with his tongue. She gasped at the enjoyable torment. Still, Drake showed no mercy. His tongue encircled her nipple, occasionally stopping to torture the tender peak with licks. Then finally, oh finally, he took the nipple into his mouth and suckled.

  Her hands threaded through his soft, thick hair. She pressed him closer as delight skittered through her. Goddess, the sensations he caused were intense. Heat settled between her thighs. Her pussy felt slick and swollen.

  Drake spent his time on her other breast, torturing it in the same manner, driving her insane with lust until she was writhing underneath him. “More,” she begged. “More.”

  “Aye,” he whispered. His lips paid homage to her rib cage, his tongue trailing every line of bone. He tasted her navel, circling the flesh around it. His breath heated her skin. His thorough exploration of her body left her quivering and needy.

  Then he attacked her hips. One wet, hot nip for each side.

  She wasn’t prepared for his sudden invasion of her cunt. He pushed apart her thighs, threw her legs over his shoulders, and penetrated her with his tongue. Just like that. No gentle insistence, no whispered warning—nothing. He thrust deep, tasting her, moaning so loud she felt the vibration in her pussy. The patience he had shown, the skill of his sensual persecution dissipated like the sparkles of a finished magical spell. Now he was a beast with a voracious appetite.

  Thank the Goddess!

  Her lungs stalled, her heart tripled its beat, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Her body felt afire, gloriously blazing, and she reveled in the heat of their passion.

  His tongue licked the crease of her pussy lips, delving into her wet heat with eagerness. The fast, hungry glide ended at her clitoris. He drew the sensitive nub into his mouth and suckled, his tongue rapidly flicking.

  The bliss that trembled in her belly built into a powerful crescendo. “Drake…” she whispered. “Oh, Drake!”

  The orgasm burst and scorched her with endless, blissful waves. As her pussy convulsed, Drake rose above her, gathered her close, and quickly pierced her vagina. She felt the giving of her maidenhead under the demand of his cock and bit her lip to keep from crying out. Be-damned! That hurt! The pain of his penetration could not be hidden even within the orgasm rippling through her.

  “I’m sorry, love,” he whispered. “It is the way of the Binding.”

  “I know.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to the sweat-beaded flesh of his throat. “I’m ready.”

  He thrust inside her, hard and fast. She mimicked his motions with her own hips, trying to relax, trying to accommodate the odd sensation of something big and hard breaching her womanhood.

  “I’m hot for you, Rosie. You’re so tight, so wet.”

  His words caused desire to flutter anew. He slid his arms under her and cupped her shoulders. Following a primal instinct, she put her legs around his waist. Doing so changed the angle of his entry, and she felt her overwrought clit begin to tingle.


  “Faster,” she demanded. Drake complied. She met his thrusts, moaning as her clit bumped against his quick-moving body. He fucked her wildly, all growls and sweat and motion until she felt the burble of another orgasm. She sucked in a breath, wanting desperately to have one more taste of that incredible thrill. “Drake…please…make me come. I want to come with you.”

  “Yes, darlin’. Yes.” Drake pressed his lips against her temple. “Being with you is everything I ever imagined. ’Tis you’ve I’ve wanted, Rosie. Only you.” His words made the tight feeling in her core curl and pulse, a coil of erotic tension waiting to be released. He buried his face in her neck, his—breath tickled her ear. And his cock, oh his wondrous, hard cock, pumped ferociously, bringing her closer and closer to paradise.

  “The spell,” he muttered tightly. “We must say the words.”

  Together, they said,

  “The spell long cast

  Now comes to pass

  Heart, soul, body…I give to thee

  For eternity I Bind you to me.”

  Rosemary found rapture with Drake. As their mutual orgasm took their bodies, the spell weaved its final charm. The white energy of Drake and the yellow energy of Rosemary emerged from their bodies and melded into one power, pulsating waves of yellow and white, forever bound into its own magical tapestry. As the enchantment rolled over them and through them, the four tenets of the Binding engraved their hearts—love, truth, loyalty, faith.

  They collapsed against each other, exhausted and happy.

  “Forever Bound,” whispered Rosemary.

  “Forever Bound,” repeated Drake.

  He held her close, murmuring sweet nothings into her hair, and Rosemary snuggled into the arms of her husband and drifted toward sleep. How could she have ever thought about the Binding as a sorrowful burden? It was a rare, joyous gift. For the first time in her life she felt…whole.

  “I love you, Drake,” she murmured as she fell into dreams. She barely heard him whisper, “I hope ’tis enough, Rosie.”