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Good to know I’m not the only one who thinks so.
Sindri waves a hand dismissively. “I had a bad night. And why are you concerned about Ashton? I thought you said he will need time to recover after his shift.”
“Something feels… off.” Jason rubs at the back of his head, turning to Emrys. “Don’t you feel it, too?”
“Magic is coming off Ash,” Emrys mutters. “It’s as if… a pressure lock was opened, the pressure released.”
“So what… He’s leaking magic?” I whisper.
“Can you fix it? You’re the witch.” Emrys is pinning me with those dark, dark eyes. Testing me. Or more likely, just pushing me to see when I will fall and burn. “Do you feel the magic? You don’t sound so sure.”
If magic is that warmth, that pulse that I get from Ashton, then maybe I do. I have no experience with magic. It’s like learning a language on my own, like hearing sounds and trying to match them to symbols without a teacher or a manual.
I sit on the bed beside him, hesitantly reach out to place a hand on his chest. The heat is throbbing there, rising and falling like a wave. The sheets are wet around him. It’s as if he’s drawing the water from the air, from the ground. I stroke his firm pecs, let my hand stroke lower, over his taut stomach, down to his hip. His pants hang in shreds over his legs, and I drag my hand over his muscular thigh. If heat is magic, then magic is pulsing there, and the closer my hand gets between his legs, the hotter it is.
I remember clearly my hand on Emrys’s hard cock, the look of bliss on his face. I don’t need to touch to know that Ashton is hard. I can all but see his cock through the shredded jeans and his ruined briefs.
Almost without conscious thought, I reach for it, pull it free from the fabric, closing my fingers around its fat girth, marveling at the size of it, the hard core of it, the heat.
“Are you going to give him a handjob while he’s out?” Jason huffs. “I guarantee he’ll appreciate it more when he’s awake.”
“What the hell,” Emrys growls, “you practiced on me and now you’ll get him off?”
“Shut up, Rys.” Sindri comes to stand beside the bed. “This is about helping Ashton, not about your sexual frustrations. What’s the matter with you today?”
“I don’t have any sexual frustrations,” Emrys growls.
“No, but you had sex with Mia and now you’re furious for some reason.”
“You had sex?” Jason stares at me.
“Wanna file a complaint?” Emrys says. “Didn’t realize you and her were going steady.”
Stupid boys. I let their words flow over me. I’m in a sort of trance, the flow and ebb of this strange heat that both scorches and chills me taking over me. “Ash,” I whisper. “Ash, I’ll help you.”
He gasps, eyes fluttering open as I start to stroke his hard-on, his back arching. “Goddammit.”
Jason snorts. “Enjoy, fucker. Best magic in the world.”
Ashton’s eyes are unfocused, his cock twitching in my hand, the flushed head wet, making my hold slippery. His hands fist in the sheets, his biceps bulging, his beautiful chest tightening and flexing until it looks as if it’s cut from marble, every muscle defined. His lips are parted, his black hair fanning on the pillow.
He’s so beautiful.
I stroke him and I feel myself throbbing between my legs, growing wet and achy. I want… I need something. I need them there, pushing into me, filling me up, and just the thought makes me gasp and contract deep inside.
“Mia,” someone says—I think it’s Sindri—but I can’t focus on anyone else right now. I wish they were there, I realize, touching us, but I don’t have enough of a foothold in the present to say that. “Gather round. We’re doing this.”
He’s still talking but I can hardly hear. I realize they gather around us, though, climbing onto the bed and putting their hands on Ashton because I swear I feel it—a jolt, a sudden wave crashing over me.
They obviously feel it too because they all gasp, but again the sound is distant.
Ashton smells so delicious. No more animal smell, but rather his human scent, magnified, so rich I can’t stop myself. I dip my head and take an experimental lick. He tastes as good as he smells, sweet and salty and spicy, and I wrap my mouth around the tip of his cock. He groans loudly, the sound tortured, and I pull back, wondering if I’m doing something wrong. After all, all I can go by is my cousin’s stories.
But his hand lands on my head, keeping it down. “Fuck, don’t stop,” Ashton breathes, and that sounds like I’m doing okay.
I never thought that going down on a guy would excite me so much. I wrap my lips around the tip again and suck, wishing I could take more of him in, wishing I could lie with him and have him touch me back…
The other guys groan, too, an echo of his pleasure, as his cock jerks and spills drops of saltiness in my mouth. From under my lashes, I catch fuzzy glimpses of them, bowed over where they are kneeling, keeping a hand on Ash, eyes watching me avidly, lips parted, breaths ragged.
