Page 22 of Starlight Witch

CHAPTER NINE

After Bran had oooed and ahhed over the decorations, and after I had handed him a plate filled with brightly decorated gingerbread men, we settled on the sofa. Grams had elected to stay in her room, watching a movie with Fancypants. Gem and Silver were chasing each other around the sofa. Bran picked up one of the feather toys and played with them for a little, while I sat there, hot apple cider in hand, eating what had to be my twentieth cookie for the day. Finally, I set down my mug and let out a sigh.

“I have to tell you something, and I want to ask you this: if you’re happy about it, please don’t gloat. I don’t think you would, but this has hit me hard and I don’t know what to do about it. I’ve been thinking about it over and over again, and I still can’t get a handle on what I should do.”

He set down the toy, and Silver bounced off, followed by Gem. “Whatever it is sounds serious. What’s wrong? You haven’t changed your mind about marrying me, have you?”

“I don’t think you’d gloat over that, would you?”

“Definitely not. I didn’t think. All right, what’s happened?”

I hung my head. “Yesterday, Faron started to remember about me. Just as he seemed to be on the brink of breaking through his amnesia block, Kyle interrupted and threw him off track. It brought on a migraine and Faron had to go sleep it off. He lost the memories that were flooding back.” I was still as angry as I had been when it happened.

Bran frowned. “Why the hell would he do that? Didn’t he realize what was happening?”

Relieved that Bran didn’t seem happy about it, I shrugged. “That’s what I asked him later. He did it on purpose, I know that for a fact. After I cooled down, I called him back—I had walked out on him. He said that the council has instructed him to keep Faron from remembering his relationship with me. They don’t want Faron to involve himself with me. Apparently, the shifter community will never accept me as his partner.”

A slew of expressions crossed Bran’s face. “They don’t think you’re good enough? That’s a wolf shifter for you.”

“Yeah, and it’s the fact that I am a witch. Grams thinks Kyle might have feelings for me, and he’s using this as an excuse. But I don’t think so. I’m not sure exactly how to deal with this. Someday Faron’s going to remember, at least I hope he is, and what’s he going to do then? And I also thought of this: what if remembering me—our relationship—helps him remember other things that he’s forgotten? Kyle’s doing him a disservice by shutting down his recollections. But I don’t know what to say or to do. I can’t barge into Kyle’s house and confront Faron without his permission.”

“Why not?” Bran asked. “You and Faron have an intimate connection. The man was in love with you—I’ll say that for a fact. Now, whether he can accept me being in the picture or not, well that’s another matter. But that’s something to discuss later on.”

I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head. “I can’t. The doctors are worried that any stress might cause more swelling in his brain.”

“What about if I have a talk with Kyle? If he’s like most wolf shifters, he’ll take a man more seriously than a woman.”

I stared at the floor for a moment. “All right, if you go out there to have a discussion with Kyle. I don’t know if that will do any good, but hopefully it won’t hurt. Just promise that you won’t attack him.” At that, I rose up on my knees and slid onto Bran’s lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. “How about we go to my room?”

“You think you can concentrate?”

I nodded, my lips close to his. “I think you can make me forget all of this.”

He swept me up in his arms and, carrying me to my bedroom, he kissed me deeply, his lips playing lightly over mine as he helped me forget the tensions of the past two days.

Bran’s body was fine, chiseled from his work on the farm, scarred in a few places where he had tangled with brambles and bushes. As he slid out of his shirt and jeans, his hair fell down past his shoulders, golden as the sun. His cock was strong and hard, straight as an arrow. He trimmed his bush, manscaping it neatly, which made him look even longer than he was. His hips were narrow, his thighs full and muscled. Suddenly hungry for him, before I even undressed, I was down on my knees in front of him, taking him in my mouth.

My hands clutching his butt, I held his hips firmly, and he placed his hands on my shoulders, gently caressing my neck. Molding my lips around the head of his penis, I slowly slid forward, taking him in my mouth, relaxing my throat so I could swallow him as much as possible.

I worked him with my tongue, sliding back to the tip, letting my tongue tease the underside of his shaft. He placed one hand on my hair, tightening his fist around it, but he stopped short of hurting me. He groaned, dropping his head back as I slid back and forth, taking him in then sliding back again, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum on my tongue. I sucked harder, gripping him tightly with my mouth, barely grazing my teeth over the ridges along his cock.

“Stop, stop now,” he said, panting. His eyes were glowing with magic, and I could feel it rise around him and around me. “Strip and lie down,” he ordered.

I obeyed, quickly stripping off my clothes and tossing them to the side. Then I backed up to the bed, laying down and bringing my knees up, spreading them wide so he could fully see my pussy.

“Yes, oh yes,” he said. He knelt between my legs, holding my hips fast as he lowered his head between my thighs. He began to suck the nub of my clit, working me with his tongue, driving me so hard that I began to squirm. I held his head in my hands, holding him against me as I groaned, trying to keep quiet so Grams wouldn’t hear. But trying to keep my voice low only made it more difficult to keep quiet as I bucked against Bran’s tongue.

He laughed and pressed his lips pressed harder against me. Removing one hand from my hips, he brought it down and slipped his fingers inside me, stroking and thrusting as I gripped against him.

“I want your cock, I want your cock inside me,” I whispered raggedly. “Fuck me, please fuck me now.”

Bran laughed again, then rolled to the side, propping himself up on one elbow. “I want to see you fuck yourself,” he said. “Where are your vibrators?”

Gasping, trying to catch my breath, I pointed toward my nightstand. “Second drawer.”

Bran yanked open the drawer and brought out the biggest dildo I had—it was a good two inches in diameter, the color of charcoal. “Where’s your lube?”

He knew where it was, but he wanted to hear me say it. “In the drawer, next to the nipple clamps.”

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