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“Oh. My.” My mouth watered.

“Is it okay?”

I swallowed my saliva even as I wondered what it would feel like to have that thing in my mouth. But first, my vagina wanted to go-round.

“I have a feeling it will be far more than okay,” I murmured, leaning back on my elbows and spreading my thighs again.

His cocky grin was back. He wrapped his hand around one of my thighs and held his corkscrew dick with the other and lined himself up.

And then he thrust.

“Oh henna,” I said on a gasp, staring down at our connected bodies. “Is it…rotating?”

He chuckled. And thrust again. “Yep.”

My eyes rolled into the back of my head while my hips strained, trying to take even more of him and his magnificent, fancy dick that was so much better than any vibrator I’d ever encountered.

“More, more, more,” I chanted, even as I climbed far too swiftly to the crescendo for my own liking. I wanted to savor this. I wanted to enjoy it forever.

My body had other ideas, pushing me into my third and most glorious orgasm yet, which felt like an out-of-body experience for a long, long moment, until I finally drifted down to earth and discovered that River had found his release too.

He stood there, breathing heavily, his pants around his ankles, still wearing his shirt, his hands cupping my ass cheeks. I was sprawled on the desk with my dress around my waist, my flushed breasts practically spilling out of the top while I worked to drag oxygen into my lungs.

Eventually, River pulled out and snagged a handful of tissues from on his desk, pressing them to my overly sensitive vajayjay.

I slipped off the desk, not quite stumbling, swept my panties off the floor, and stepped into them before smoothing down my dress.

We did not make eye contact.

He cleared his throat. Didn’t speak.

I opened and closed my mouth without speaking.

Well, henna.

Where did we go from here?

Chapter

Ten

River

It had been three long days since Cassandra and I did the deed in my office. I hadn’t been able to work in there since. I didn’t want to tarnish the most precious memory I now had stored in my bank.

We also hadn’t spoken since.

I had no idea why.

I’d tried.

After we dressed, she mumbled something about returning to the party and had taken off like her very delectable ass was on fire. I’d followed at a much more sedate pace—my knees were still wobbly after that mind-blowing orgasm—and then did not speak to her for the rest of the night. Mostly because I couldn’t seem to find her for the rest of the evening. Every time I thought I caught a glimpse, I’d blink and she’d be gone.

The next day I went to the genie and used one of my wishes to convince him to rewire her coffee shop. But then I’d had a full day of client appointments. By the time I headed over to the coffee shop to check on the progress, the genie had finished his part—which probably took the length of time for him to clap his hands—and all the dust and broken furniture had been cleaned up. The counter looked as if it had been sanded and varnished. The faded writing on the chalkboard was gone, as were the coffeepots from almost a century ago.

The windows had been replaced, and there was a new door with BREWTOPIA scrawled across the glass in fancy cursive writing.

Guess she was stepping away from the witchy tie to the coffee shop. Made sense if she did not plan to use her magic.