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It was the kind of spell we peddled to the unknowing - those who paid us for it, but to sue that same spell against one of our own? A Witch? Me?
It was unforgivable.
I had made a mistake in fleeing - in assuming that Julian could remain, could run things here. He wasn’t worthy, and I allowed those bitter thoughts to seep into the sigil itself, tainting his blood and the cowardly essence of who he was.
Even after I was finished, his sobs did not cease, instead, they grew worse, as if the ramifications of what I had done - of what he would have to face finally set in. I watched in awed fascination as I slid off of his frame, allowing him to bring his fingers to the wound, the pad of his thumb swiping blood across his jawline.
The Demon took his cue from me, finally releasing his grasp on Julian, setting the traitor free.
“They will kill me.” Julian’s sob echoed through the forest and I allowed the sounds of the river to slowly filter back in. “You have marked me as a dead man.”
“Such is our way.” I answered flatly - evenly, but my heart beat violently in my chest, the adrenaline surging through me, making me feel anything but stoic - calm.
“You are a goddamn mad woman!” Suddenly, Julian surged towards his feet, his gaze manic and wild as he understood the choices that lay before him. Still, I calmed my breathing and answered carefully.
“I am a Witch.” He had been raised on the same teachings as I had - should know better than to trifle with a Witch. Mob justice could be brutal, but it was always swift, and that was something that not everyone was offered. The mark on his face left Julian open to our justice system, and I knew that he suddenly stood on the banks of the river grappling with that knowledge - grappling with what I had done to him.
He moved towards me, but I was ready for his violence, my adrenaline refusing to let up - ease - into something else. I held my knife at the ready and just before I was about to thrust up into his momentum, effectively gutting him, the Demon stepped between us, saving the boy that I had once given me heart to.
“You’ve already picked a fight that you know you can’t win, rather tuck tail and hide - build a life for yourself away from here - away from her.”
For a minute, Julian seemed to fight against the Demon, resisting the words of wisdom the darkness had somehow bestowed, but finally I watched his body slump in defeat, watched him storm away with a bloodied face and bruised ego.
As soon as Julain cleared the forest, I spun towards the creature before me.
“I don’t need your protection, Demon.”
“I’m insulted.” Cortland had the audacity to pout, proving exactly just how seriously he took my threats. “That is the second time I’ve saved you and this is the thanks I get? If I couldn’t sense your desire from here, I would assume that you truly weren’t happy to see me.”
I flushed, grateful that the darkness obscured my blush from him, and suddenly, with his focus purely pinned on my nipples that had hardened beneath my silk slip, I knew that the fabric did absolutely nothing to obscure my body’s reaction.
“The desire is manufactured because of you and your power.” I stepped closer to him, suddenly in line with his chest, and that cinnamon and spice scent of his seemed to engulf me, pulling me under.
“I would believe you if I were actually using my power.” His whispered words against my neck had me arching up towards the Demon, my body silently begging him for everything he had to offer.
I blinked, allowing his words to wash over me, and as I went to push him away to gain some distance from him and his intoxicating scent, he brushed those lips of his against my neck, and suddenly space seemed like that last thing I wanted.
I slid my hands around his neck, reaching up on my tiptoes, knife still in hand as I gave the Demon more access, enoying the way he sucked and nipped against my pulse.
My own heat unfurled within, my Magick rising to the surface, lashing against his in challenge and demand, and in that wild moment I did not care. His mouth stole the air from my lungs as he inhaled everything I was. It wasn’t a gentle kiss, it was a grating of tongues - a battle for dominance that had me moaning against his darkness. Heat pounded against my temples, igniting me in a way that later I may have been embarrassed about, demanding that I allow the Demon to sink into me - to claim and consume me. With him I was no longer Marie - granddaughter of Jeanne des Montagnes, I was no longer the High Priestess within the Tarot Club, I was need incarnate. I was wanton lust that only he seemed to be able to sate. I was a question, and he was the answer. And so when his fingers danced along the flimsy straps of my strip, I didn’t fight it, allowing the cream material to pool to the sodden earth, the remnants of Julian’s love spell a few feet away from us.
And then my hands danced beneath the hem of his shirt, skating across his dips and edges, and he allowed me to tug the soft cotton material above his head, exposing him to me from the chest up. The moon chose that moment to shine upon us, the clouds opening for but a moment, but it was enough. It was enough for me to see the work of art that he was, painfully crafted to lure unsuspecting men and women towards him. Was he feeding off of my lust now? My desire?
Did I even care?
My fingers worked the buckle of his belt as I stood there, clad in nothing but my ankle boots and panties. The Demon toyed with my nipples and I fought off a moan as he weighed each breast heavily, as if measuring their value. We were a frantic whirlwind of emotion, but as soon as his pants hit the earthy forest floor, his lips were laving my breasts, his tongue flicking my nipple, and I shuddered beneath him, allowing him this exploration.
I expected him to push me against the earthy floor, but the movement felt off, and once I opened my eyes, I realized that the Demon was positioning himself beneath me, sliding the scrap of fabric to one side, exposing my core. I was already wet - aching for him, and I wholly blamed his Magick. Perhaps he wasn’t using his power earlier, but the heat that was driving me was all his doing. Without waiting for him to ease himself into me, I simply slid his cock into position, allowing him to stretch my opening.
He was so large in my hands, and I briefly wondered if that was a Demon thing, or specific only to lust Demons because as cocks went, his was damn near perfect. I slid up and down on him, willing my body to open up and accept him, until I slid down a third time, pushing him inside me entirely.
His emerald eyes glowed fiercely and I watched him clench and unclench his jaw as I allowed my body to adjust to him, the stretch both delicious and painful. My breaths were short and quick, and without allowing myself to think, I lifted myself onto my haunches, pushing up and down against the Demon in fast pumps as I watched his gaze finally glaze over into lust as he watched my breasts bounce.
“That’s it,” he crooned from below, “fuck me like you mean it, little Witch. Break apart upon my cock.”
His words fuelled me, only making me move against him harder, quickening my pace as I barrelled towards the impossibility of bliss.
“Shut up.” I snapped. I didn’t need the Demon to dirty talk me towards the cliffs of pleasure, I only needed his body. If I were to succumb to the wiles of darkness, then I would make damn sure that I would enjoy myself.
