Page 55 of Cursing My Cheating Husband

They moved in sync, Duke thrusting up into her and Ryder slamming down, their bodies slapping against hers in a filthy rhythm. Callie was a fucking vision. Her skin flushed and her mouth opened in an ecstatic scream as they railed her. Her fingers clawed at Duke’s chest, her nails leaving red marks as her cries filled the room. “Oh gods, oh fuck! Yes!”

My twinge of arousal from earlier had grown into a full hard-on, and with it I felt the animal in me taking over. Watching this triggered a possessiveness beyond what I could control.

I couldn’t watch this woman I loved being ravaged by other men.

I was stopping this if I had to rip Duke and Ryder off of her. Even two against one, I was stronger than both of them.

I sprang to my feet and lunged⁠—

—and immediately slammed into one of Callie’s magical force fields, which formed a protective column around the three of them. It was as solid as running full force into a brick wall.

I stumbled back, stunned by the impact. “Callie, I love you!” I roared.

But she was paying no attention to me. Her shrieks of bliss were primal, syncing with Duke and Ryder’s grunts as she rode their cocks at ever more frenzied speeds.

I thought of running from the room… but I didn’t. The impact with the barrier had slammed sense back into me and reminded me of what mattered. She wanted me to watch this. And nothing was more important to me than giving the woman I had wronged whatever she asked for. If she wanted me here, this was where I wanted to be.

Callie’s body tightened, her back bowing. She locked eyes with me and smiled widely. “I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” Her voice broke as her orgasm surged through her, her euphoric screams merging with the roars of pleasure from Duke as he came, his hips shuddering, and the guttural snarls from Ryder, his fingers digging hard into her hips as he finished inside her.

And all throughout, I continued to watch. Just as she asked.

CHAPTER 23

CALLIE

The Nightshade Cove Convention Center was a marvel of modern witch architecture. Moonlight streamed through the enchanted glass of the soaring ceiling, shifting the light into ever-changing colors. I watched the purple and silver beams dance across the faces of the witches milling about, all of them buzzing with energy and ambition.

Behind me, Maddox grunted as he struggled with my luggage. We were only here for three days, but I’d heavily over-packed, just to make it hard on him. I glanced back to see him looking queasy, his face still clammy an hour after we’d arrived via teleportation.

“How are you holding up?” I asked.

“Still nauseous,” he muttered, adjusting his grip on my bags.

I suppressed a smile. I had told him that everyone felt sick the first time they teleported.

The truth was, avoiding teleportation sickness was only a matter of casting the magic correctly. And wouldn’t you know it, I’d somehow made some “mistakes” when transporting Maddox here.

“I’m sure you’ll feel better soon,” I said breezily, turning back to continue my survey of the convention floor. Row after row of booths stretched before me, each one representing a different magical career path. I’d already considered so many possibilities, none of which clicked.

Education, fashion, architecture, medicine, historical research, marketing, urban planning… I drifted from booth to booth, my interest flaring briefly at each stop as I saw how magic was transforming these fields.

But doubts always came rushing in right after. Teaching seemed noble, but I didn’t think I’d be good at corralling entire classes of students. Archival work looked fascinating but lonely. Healing I’d always been awful at, and the years of specialized study it required were too much to take on.

A booth for magical wedding planning caught my eye. Despite how it turned out, I loved planning my own wedding, and the thought of bringing that joy to other couples gave me a warm feeling.

But as I chatted up the witch there, I was unsettled how quickly she warned me about the major drawback with most of her clients: human couples whose requests for a magical wedding were so outrageously unreasonable, they amounted to demands to bend the laws of reality. “As humans learn about the limits of what magic can do, I believe it’ll become more manageable,” she reassured me.

But the specter of such entitled bridezillas had already turned me off the idea.

The same pattern repeated at booth after booth. It felt like repeatedly spotting outfits that looked great on the rack, but the minute I tried them on, they just didn’t hang right on me at all.

I glanced back at Maddox, who was wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The sight of him struggling prompted the usual smile from me, but did I really want him to see me like this? Wandering aimlessly, unable to commit to anything?

So, I better ensure he remained focused on his own problems. For the ninth time in the last hour, I silently cast a spell to increase the weight of my already-overstuffed luggage another ten pounds, and immediately I heard a pained grunt from him in response. I had to be nearing the maximum that even his muscles could handle.

A commotion near the entrance made me turn. The crowd parted, witches stepping aside with murmurs of recognition and respect. “The High Priestess is here!” a witch near me whispered to her friend.

My mother swept into the convention center like she owned it. Which, in a sense, she did. Astrea’s presence always commanded attention. She wore a deep purple gown that seemed to shimmer with its own light, and her dark hair was swept up in an elegant style that showed off her ornate silver earrings.