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Some wardens go years without being chosen for a magi, and for a time, I’d wished that would be my fate.
Then, I saw Nadine. Not like before, when we’d run through the courtyard practicing enchantments. But really saw her as the woman she was becoming.
For two years I watched as she sulked in shadows, head perpetually bowed. She didn’t have the confidence of the others because she was so unsure of her talent and where she would eventually place.
Alone, she’d practice, never knowing I was watching her. That my infatuation with her was growing into obsession.
I lost interest in going to town, and instead, used my hand as I choked on her name.
My Nadine.
I don’t know what I would have done if the mavens had chosen differently. There are always upsets at the tethering. Most recently, at last night’s tribunal, Cole was chosen for Raven, who utterly detests him. The match is bound to end poorly, yet they were still chosen for each other.
Having to see Nadine paired with another would send me into a murderous rage.
But I never have to worry about that, because she’s mine.
Nadine is my magi. Mine to care for. Mine to protect. Mine to feast upon.
She stretches against me, a small moan escaping her lips and livening my manhood.
“You’re still up?” she says sleepily.
“Your presence is a bane to rest.”
Her head jerks up when her hand accidentally grazes my cock. “Oh, you’re really up.”
“For you, always.”
“Is there a way I could help with that?” she asks.
“You know there is.”
“I’m sorry…but I’m sore.”
A part of me wants to instruct her to use her mouth, but it feels foolish to push my luck.
I roll toward her, cupping her cheek with my hand. “Then let me lick you again. Pleasing you will be enough for me.”
She pouts, dissatisfied with my request.
“You’re welcome to sleep longer, if you’d like.”
“But I’m frustrated,” she whines.
“Then let me eat you.”
“But I want more.”
“Was the pleasure I gave you earlier not enough?”
“I want to please you, too.”
“Trust me, eating your pink pussy pleases me immensely.” It’s not a lie. I’m starving for her.
I close a hand around a plump breast and squeeze, bringing her protruding nipple to my mouth. In her apprentice robes, she was utterly shapeless, which was probably for the best because if the robes were even mildly flattering, none of the wardens would have been able to concentrate around her.
“Oh, Blane,” she moans, her fingers threading my hair.
