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I want so much more than this, than the drag of denim over my clit, his hard length pressing into me, my arousal soaking into the fabric separating us. Cohen stops kissing me, hovers his mouth over mine, our breaths mingling. His icy blue eyes run over me, watching my expression as his hips snap into mine almost brutally, like he’s punishing me for something. I can imagine what it would feel like to have him do that with his cock inside me, the slap of his balls on my ass, the grind of his pubic bone against my clit, and the long hard length of him pummeling into me.
My eyes roll back, as my mouth opens on a pant. “You’re close, aren’t you, wildcard? I can make you feel so good from just dry humping, just grinding that you’re going to come, aren’t you?” His mouth opens on a smirk. “Those assholes haven’t been taking care of you like you need, have they? That’s okay, wildcard, I’m here now.”
I should probably deny that, should probably tell him we’re taking it at my pace and that’s why I’m not fucking all of them at the moment, but he feels too damn good at the moment. Instead, my heels dig into his ass, trying to bring him closer. “More,” I moan. “Please, Cohen, more.”
He chuckles. “Not today, Rosalind. But don’t worry, I’m going to make you come so hard.”
And then, even though I know that he’s still fully dressed, even though I know he hasn’t pulled out his cock, I get the sensation of penetration, of something hard, and big and velvet smooth stretching me. One of his hands is tangled in my hair and one of them is fondling my breast, plucking at my nipple. So I know it’s not his fingers.
Unless Cohen has a prehensile tail I don’t know about, he’s fucking me with magic right now. He’s making me feel like there’s a big cock in my pussy, thrusting in and out in time with his hips grinding into mine, his actual cock pressing into my clit. The sensation is phenomenal.
“You make the best noises, wildcard. The absolute fucking best.” Cohen trails kisses down my jaw up to my ear. “I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen now, okay, Rosalind? You are going to come so fucking hard you see stars. Your cum is going to soak into my jeans, right over my throbbing cock. And then I’m going to leave out the window and knock on the front door, greet your boyfriends with your arousal all over me.”
I moan, even though some part of me knows I shouldn’t find that a turn on. I shouldn’t even be doing this. Some distant voice is telling me I’m going to feel so damn guilty after this, but I push it to the side, because it feels like that magic cock inside me is growing, stretching me even farther and it’s creating all these fluttering, pulsing sensations throughout my body.
“They won’t know that I was just up here making you come. They won’t know that you’re going to be thinking about this, about my cock for fucking days. They won’t know that you’re going to come to me begging me to fuck you for real, to make you feel this fucking good again.”
I whimper again. God, his words are just so fucking deliciously naughty. Dirty. Wrong. And they spark the first bloom of my orgasm. And I do mean the first, because it only grows in intensity. Whatever magic he’s using is drawing it out, making it go higher, tighter, longer. My head tips back and I let out a low keen that rises in pitch and volume until I’m screaming. My whole body tight as a bowstring, my back arching off the bed smashing my breasts into Cohen’s chest. Bright sparks flare behind my eyes, just like he’s promised.
Cohen kisses my forehead when everything releases, my body slumping back to the mattress, my hair sticking to my sweaty skin, my breath still coming in harsh pants. I stare up at him in wonder.
How was that even possible? I’ve never come so hard in my life, but it’s obvious he used some kind of magic to make it last longer, feel better. Half of me is angry at him for doing that, for using a spell on me, but the other half of me wants him to do it again, the hussy.
It can’t happen again. Never ever again.
That guilt that I pushed to the side in the throes of passion comes slamming back into me. Cohen sees it. I know he does, the moment I regret what just happened between us. His jaw goes tight and his icy green eyes go cold. But he doesn’t pull away from me, doesn’t move off me, just stays there staring down at me, while I look at anything but him, which is mostly just the ceiling.
“Wildcard,” he says softly, far softer than the look on his face would show he’s feeling. “Don’t feel guilty about this. You don’t owe them anything.”
I push against his shoulders, and he rolls to his side willingly before he settles on his back, one arm tucked behind his head. I sit up, turn away from him, and shake my head. “How am I going to tell them about you? About this? They’re going to hate me.”
I’m not really expecting an answer, it’s more rhetorical. But he responds anyway, “You just say, ‘boys, you remember Cohen. I want to add him to my harem.’”
I swallow and shake my head, even as I fight the near hysterical laugh that wants to work its way out of me. “It’s not that simple, Cohen.”
“It is that simple, Ro.”
“No, it’s not. There’s all these rules in their coven about not dating outside of it. I think they’re okay with sharing because it’s the four of them, but adding in a new person, one they don’t know and trust?”
“I don’t trust them either,” he says matter-of-factly. “All the more reason for me to join, I can keep a closer eye on them, and they can keep an eye on me.”
I turn a sharp gaze on him over my shoulder. “Is that why you’re here? To keep an eye on them? To figure out what they’re doing? What their coven is planning? For revenge?”
He’d told me the reason he was at Septem Stellae was to get revenge. Revenge for what he hadn’t specified, and I hadn’t pressed. I’d been too busy being terrified of him. And now here I am the very next time I’m alone with him and he’s made me come so hard I think my brain melted. My gaze flicks to the crotch of his pants, where his cock is still straining, and I can just barely make out the wet spot on the dark denim.
“Worried I’m not here for you, wildcard?” he sounds far too smug about that. Like he thinks it means something that it doesn’t. Or maybe it does.
God, I’m such a mess.
To hide my confusion, I scoff and scrape my hair behind my ears. “The point is, I can’t just add you to the…” I can’t bring myself to sayharem. I can’t. “Bunch. Their coven is fucked up. I know it. You know it. They know it. But they still have rules. It’s the only reason I’m even going through with these trials, so that I can be with them. I would have to choose between you and them eventually and I-”
I cut off abruptly. I don’t want to say that to him. I don’t want to tell him if pressed I’d probably choose them. Even with their fucked up coven rules.
The masculine pride he’d been emanating shrivels up. He pushes into a sitting position and shakes his head like he’s disappointed in me. He probably is. But when he brings his eyes back to me, his gaze is soft. “When are you going to learn, wildcard? You don’t need the coven and you don’t need anyone else. All you need is you. You are enough. You can make your own fucking rules. If you want me hard enough, you’ll find a way to make it work.” A small smile curls his lips. “And it’s my mission to make you want me hard enough.”
Nonplussed, I stare at him. I definitely need to nip this in the bud and then figure out how to tell the boys that I’m a cheater. Icheatedon them. What kid of a horrible person does that?
“Well, you might be my only option after this,” I mutter, standing up and refusing to be self-conscious about my naked body being on display. I’ve just ground myself against him shamelessly. Nudity doesn’t really compare to that.
