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I must have kicked off my sandals, my soles slipped over warm sand, and I was overcome with the sensation of it. Everything felt so good. So intense. Like all my pleasure receptors had been spelled a hundred times their normal rate. I didn’t know I was capable of so much feeling.
I wriggled my toes, laughing as grains of sand slipped between them, tickling and teasing. Someone handed me a glass of wine and I drank deeply. It tasted sweet, strong. Apples dipped in honey and blessed by the stars. It was one of the most delicious things I’d ever had. Vittoria would have loved it. I gulped more—maybe to forget, maybe because I wanted it.
Then my glass was gone and I was pulled into another dance.
I wanted to stay here for eternity, lost to these good feelings. And it felt like I had. Here I didn’t have to feel grief. I didn’t have to mourn. Here I could simply live.
Minutes passed, maybe hours or days; time had no meaning. I moved and swayed, closed my eyes and listened to the enchanting sounds of the water, the murmurs of voices that belonged to people I couldn’t see. Those invisible hands from earlier became bold explorers, mapping the uncharted territory that was my body. They slid down, lower…
“Remember.” A strange voice whispered to me. “Inferus sicut superus.”
As above, so below. There was a memory buried there, skirting the outside of my mind.
Something piercing in my arm, cold and sharp, jolted me from my trance. My eyes flew open. Fear reached icy tendrils out to me again, but just as quickly as it happened, it was gone. Replaced with pleasure. Rapture. Complete and total freedom from all thought. I liked it there, deep in a cocoon of oblivion. Then I saw him.
He cut through the crowded beach like a blade, his anger setting the peaceful joy ablaze. My invisible dance partner vanished, but I hardly noticed. There was a much more interesting creature stalking closer. The most terrifying and feral. Vaguely, I felt I should run in the other direction. That he was a carnivorous beast and I was a lamb, stumbling ever closer to danger. Amidst a group of shadowy figures, he burned brightly—the only form that wasn’t hidden.
I thought about fire, about plumes of smoke and flames licking the air. Which made me think about dragging my tongue over him, seeing if he was as hot as the energy steaming off him. Drums beat. My heart pounded. I wanted to experience pleasure on all levels.
I wanted a spell to bottle this feeling and sip from it whenever I desired.
Magic was life and life was made by making love and feeling good and our bodies constantly tried to remind us to live. I’d spent the last several weeks consumed by death and destruction—I needed balance. I deserved it. As above, so below.
He stopped before me, his expression wary. “Time to go, witch.”
Hardly. I twirled away, but he grabbed my hand, spinning me back until I crashed against his body. Heat poured off him, enveloped me. I had the strangest feeling I should hate it. “Hello, demon. Let’s dance.”
“You need to get out of here. Immediately.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re tearing your clothes off and looking at me like mine are next.”
I glanced down and laughed in surprise. I was trying to undo the stays of my bodice, but he thwarted my efforts. His tattooed hand covered mine. I looked up at him, my brow crinkled. “Don’t you want to see me naked?”
“I have.”
“And?”
“If you still want to rip your clothes off when we get home, we can discuss it then.”
A blast of ice on my arm doused flames of desire. Then they were back with a vengeance. I gave up trying to remove my dress and focused on him. I went for the button on his trousers, and he deftly moved back. He was a difficult creature. I placed my hands on his chest and dragged them down instead. Power thrummed beneath my touch. Responded to me. It was intoxicating.
“For the living embodiment of sin, you aren’t very sinful.”
I tugged him close. Drums beat. Passion stirred. He closed his eyes. I pressed closer, and he didn’t stop me this time. The music grew sultry. I swayed automatically against him. I wanted him to swing me up into his arms, and dance us across the sky.
The stubborn demon didn’t move.
“Why won’t you touch me?” I ran my thumb across the seam of his lips and he gently bit down, holding my finger in place. If he meant it as a deterrent, it wasn’t working. He opened his eyes and I was struck by the beauty of them. “Is it because I’m a witch?”
He trailed big hands down my arms. I leaned in, waiting for him to crush his lips against mine. In the far reaches of my mind, I recalled him saying one day I’d beg him to kiss me. That I’d love it or loathe it, but still crave it. He hadn’t been wrong. I hated him… for denying me. The anticipation was building to a point that was almost painful. When he finally dragged his hands to my wrists, instead of pulling me closer, he gently pushed me back, holding me at arm’s length.
“There are many reasons. One of which is because you’re under my brother’s influence.” He glanced over my shoulder, his expression forbidding. “Lust.”
Intrigued, I slowly turned. Desire scorched every last sentient thought I had. The Prince of Lust was golden skinned, dark haired, and had a body Michelangelo probably used as inspiration for his sculptures. I didn’t just want him, I needed him. I craved his attention as much as I longed for his touch.
“Hello, Signorina di Carlo. You’re absolutely delicious, aren’t you?”
