Spellbound

Two





Six hours earlier . . .



He was there, in the darkness. Watching her. Circling her.

His hunger wrapped around her, sharp and biting. Insatiable. It startled her sometimes, how ravenous he was. She could not temper or appease his desires.

She could only surrender. Submit. To them, to him.

Arching her back, her arms stretched the distance allowed by the silken bonds at her wrists, and her eyelids fluttered behind the red satin blindfold. Victoria stood, anchored, spread-eagled, her hands fisted around the forest green velvet ropes that extended from the ceiling. The colors of the season. More than mere sentimentality, it was a testament to Max’s attention to detail. The same intense attention he paid to her body. He knew her inside and out, every curve and crevice, every dream and secret.

The sudden sharp smack of the crop against her bare buttocks made her hiss like the feline she was. The sting lingered, grew hot, made her writhe.


“Don’t move, kitten,” Max rumbled, his deep voice a husky caress.

If only she could see him. Her feline sight could drink him in, worship him. He was so beautiful. So delicious. Her warlock. Hers.

His lust was a potent scent in the air, dark and alluring, powerful. It beaded her nipples, swelled her breasts, slicked her sex. Her mouth watered for the taste of his cock and she purred, the low rumble an unmistakable plea for more. Always more.

She was as insatiable as he, driven by a love so consuming and vital she wondered how she’d ever lived without it.

“Max,” she whispered, licking her lips. “I need you inside me.”

Magic rose in the air between them, his considerable power augmented by her Familiar gifts. Her collar tingled around her neck. It was invisible to mortals, but to other magickind it was a blatant and unmistakable symbol of Max’s ownership. A simple black ribbon that proclaimed she was owned, loved, looked after, protected. She’d rejected that symbol of submission for centuries after Darius had perished. Then Max Westin hunted her, and she learned to love supplication.

Now they were rogues, tasked with only the most unwanted assignments, punished by the Council at every turn. The adversity only made their bond stronger, deepening their connection.

“I love you,” she breathed, arching in an effort to relieve the agonizing lust that consumed her. Her skin was hot and misted with sweat, desperate for the feel of his powerful body pressed to hers.

The scorching lash of a tongue on her beaded nipple made her cry out in near mindless longing.

“I love you, too,” he murmured, his breath humid against her newly dampened skin. She heard the crop clatter on the floor just before his large hands cupped her hips.

“Y-yes.” She swallowed hard. “Yes, Max.”

As his heated face pressed into the valley between her breasts, his hands slid around to cup her buttocks, his fingers kneading into the firm flesh. His touch was gentle and reverent, despite the savage need she smelled on him. He loved her so much, enough to temper his passion and control it. There was nothing in the world like being made love to with such ferocious intensity and focus. Victoria was addicted to the pleasure he bestowed with such expert detail.

“F*ck me,” she whispered through dry lips. “Gods, Max . . . I need your cock.”

“Not yet, kitten. I’m not done playing.”

She shuddered as his hot mouth wrapped around the aching tip of her breast. Panting, she writhed in his arms. “Damn you . . . you’re killing me.”

The sound of the Boston Pops playing holiday songs flowed in from the living room stereo, mingling with the sound of rushing blood in her ears. Outside, the snow continued to fall unabated, blanketing the city in a pristine layer. It was beautiful, but deceptive. The hair on Victoria’s nape rose and a trickle of sweat coursed down her temple. Dark, insidious magic lay in wait for them. The whistling of the wind against the windows gave proof of that.

We’re waiting, it whispered.

The sneering challenge of the Triumvirate given voice by the storm.

But here inside Max’s vast loft apartment, she was shielded in a cocoon of desire and love. Together, their magic was a powerful force to be reckoned with. So far, they were undefeated. But they had never battled against any demon as close to the Source as the Triumvirate.

Think about me, Max snarled, his fingers tightening on her delicate skin.

His words echoed through her mind, a manifestation of the soul-deep connection between Master and Familiar. Their tie had to be at its strongest, its deepest, if they had any hope of succeeding tonight.

Always, she husked, wrapping her long legs around his lean waist. “It’s always you.”

She was lifted by his power, raised high into the air as if supported by a harness. The blindfold fell away, leaving her blinking, her sight adjusting into the feline night vision that allowed her to see her lover in all his glory.

Max stood between her spread thighs, his dark hair dampened by sweat and clinging to his arrogant brow. His eyes were dark and shining, his skin golden, his musculature made visible by sharp sexual tension.

As his head lowered and his lips approached her quivering cleft, the depth of his desire flooded her mind in a ferocious growl that made her jolt within her bonds.

My beautiful kitty has a beautiful p-ssy, he crooned. Soft, sweet, and delicious.

Then his mouth was between her legs, his tongue slipping through the slick folds and stroking across her swollen *oris. She arched into his grip, her body shivering with the delightful torment.

With dazed, heavy-lidded eyes, Victoria took in the view of a gorgeous man eating her out with helpless fascination. Their love only added to the eroticism of the moment. Max relished having her this way, craving the taste of her so strongly that he sucked her off daily, his enjoyment obvious in the hungry snarls that vibrated against her tender flesh. His pleasure spurred hers until it rode her hard, tearing her apart.

Her power rose with the ecstasy he dispensed with wicked skill, augmenting his, filling the loft until the wooden ceiling beams and floorboards creaked with the effort to contain it.

“Let me touch you,” she begged, her hands clenching and releasing restlessly. She could free herself easily, but she didn’t. That made her submission even more valuable to him. He cherished her because of it, and she adored him for seeing it as the strength it was and not a weakness.

I want you like this.

She gasped as his lips circled her *oris and he sucked, the pleasure radiating through her body in rolling waves. His tongue stroked rhythmically across the hardened bundle of nerves, making her p-ssy clench desperately in a silent plea to be filled.

“Max . . . ”

His head tilted and he lifted her higher, his tongue thrusting deep, f*cking hard and fast into the melting, spasming depths of her.

Victoria keened, coming hard, her back bowing as the orgasm stole her sight. Magic exploded from her like ripples on water, pouring into Max until he shook as savagely as she did.

But he didn’t stop.

His lips, tongue, and teeth continued to feast on her, groans spilling from his throat as he drank her down. The silky curtain of his hair brushed against her inner thighs, adding to the overwhelming barrage of sensation that assailed her. It would all be too much if not for his love, which anchored her in the maelstrom and prevented her from losing her mind.

“Oh gods, Max,” she whimpered, shivering with the aftershocks.

She’d never known sex could be so . . . fervent until she met Max. He took her body to places she hadn’t known it could go. He allowed no barriers between them, no resistance.

Max released her wrists and she sank limply into his arms, her cheek falling to his shoulder and her lips touching his skin. The taste of him was an aphrodisiac, keeping her hot and wet. Hungry.

He set her carefully on her feet, then applied gentle but insistent pressure to her shoulders. “Suck my cock, kitten.”

She sank gracefully and gratefully to her knees, her mouth watering for the taste of him and the feel of that heavy, vein-lined shaft sliding over her tongue. She was desperate for it, her throat clenching in anticipation.

He held the weighty length in one tightfisted hand and guided the flushed, glistening head to her parted lips.

“Yeah,” he groaned, his chest heaving. “You look so beautiful when you’re giving me head, baby.”

Hot and throbbing, Max’s cock slid inexorably into her drenched mouth. Her hands cupped his buttocks and drew him closer, her throat working to swallow and lure him deeper.


He kept one hand fisted around the base so he didn’t feed her too much. The other hand cupped her cheek, feeling her mouth worshiping his cock from the outside.

“Gods,” he gasped, his buttocks clenching against her palms as her tongue fluttered over the sensitive spot beneath the crown. “Slow down, kitten.”

Victoria pulled free with a wet pop, her lips curving in a catlike smile. Tilting her head, she followed a throbbing vein with the tip of her tongue, then circled his grasping hand. She backtracked, sucking softly as she moved upward, her emotions entangled with her physical responses.

“F*ck,” he growled, his thighs quaking. “Suck it, baby. Don’t play.”

Pressing her lips to the tiny hole at the tip, she barely parted them, then flowed over him in a rapid dip of her head.

His hand left her cheek and cupped the back of her head, holding her still as he f*cked her mouth in rapid, shallow digs. She moaned in delight, her thighs squeezed tightly together to fight the ache of emptiness in her p-ssy.

“Suck it hard, kitten.”

Her cheeks hollowed on a drawing pull and his fierce shout of triumph swelled upward through the exposed ductwork, combating the sounds of the Triumvirate’s challenge in the wind outside.

Shuddering, he spurted hot and thick, the creamy wash of his semen flowing over her tongue and down her throat. His fist stroked from the thick base of his cock to meet her lips, pumping his cum hard and fast along the jerking shaft into her waiting, willing mouth.

The power she’d given him with her climax flowed back into her, hotter and more powerful, a deluge so intense she wouldn’t have been able to take it if not for the gift Darius gave her. She felt Max in her mind, his love flowing through her in a saturating embrace, his pleasure as necessary to her as breathing.

He pulled free of her suckling. The next instant cool, crushed velvet cushioned her back and Max was over her, kneeing her legs wider so his hips could sink between them. She purred at the feel of the slick head of his cock notching into place at the tiny slitted entrance of her p-ssy.

With a powerful lunge, he was deep inside her, his still-rigid cock thrusting through her swollen tissues until he’d hit the end of her.

“Max!” His name was a breathless cry on her lips, her toes curling with the delight of having him pulsing within her, stretching her to her limits in the most delicious way possible.

“Naughty kitten,” he rumbled, nuzzling his cheek against hers. “You almost finished me with your mouth.”

“I love your cock, Max.”

“As much as you can take.” His head lifted and his gaze promised hours of joy ahead of her. “I’ll always give you as much as you can handle, kitten.”

“Give it to me now,” she purred. “Hard and deep.”

Fists clenched in the coverlet, Max obliged her, pounding her into the mattress with the heated length of his magnificent cock. He whispered lewd praise in her ear, describing how she felt around him, how he loved her hot p-ssy and greedy cries for more.

Victoria clawed at his back, her long legs wrapping around his pumping hips, her p-ssy tightening on every withdraw and quivering on every plunge. Gluttonously relishing the brutality of his passion.

There was a desperation in his taking, a primal urge to sink as deep into her as possible so that they could never be separated. They faced the greatest foe of their lives tonight and they might not survive it.

I love you . . . so beautiful . . . mine . . .

As his emotions filled her mind and heart, tears coursed down her temples to wet her hair. She embraced his sweat-slick back and spread her legs wider, sobbing with the mind-numbing pleasure of his possession, trembling violently from an orgasm more fierce than anything she’d ever experienced before.

His climax followed hers, his cum spurting in scorching skeins, his cock jerking inside her with every wrenching pulse. Their combined magic swelled, shaking every item in the loft. The windows creaked, whined, barely able to contain the power they created as one. On this night.

Victoria clung to Max, crying. She wouldn’t lose him. She couldn’t.

If the end approached, it would be her life for his.

She would ensure it.