Page 123 of Night of the Witch
I have spent too long hiding under false personae, checking my emotions, schooling my face. I know that when she gazes up at me now, she sees the full extent of my soul bared before her, the longing desire I cannot—will not—hide.
I will never hide who I am from her.
I let one hand drift out of the water, diamond droplets falling over her body. I trace her skin with my touch, finger lightly caressing her pale neck, down, between her breasts, lower, back under the water, lower.
I have wanted this—her—for too long not to savor every moment, every taste. I bend over her body, my tongue tracing the shell of her ear. I relish the way she writhes at my touch, the pleading moans that I pull from her pink lips. It is torture for me to resist, to wait, to draw this out, but it’s the sweetest torture I have ever known.
“Otto,” Fritzi groans, and I hear the command in her voice, the impatience as she bucks against my hand, her body demanding more from me. I cannot bite back the chuckle rising in my throat. A part of me loves theway she wants me as much as I want her. The much larger part of me is just as insatiably starving.
I float back in the water, just a little. She tries to hold me closer with her legs, but I let the water work for me, disentangling myself and letting her body float before me.
A feast I intend to savor.
Her hips lift from the water as I draw her core to my tongue, warm and sweet. The water rocks with the movement we create, gentle waves lapping up and darkening her hair. She sinks down, her shoulders kissing the surface of the pool as she lets herself fully unwind under the ministrations of my lips.
My hands slick over her wet body, floating along her curves, pressing against the muscles that tighten as she begs for more, more.
And more is exactly what I intend to give her.
I surge forward in the water, framing her body with my hands as I claim her mouth, my kiss probing. She meets me stroke for stroke, her arms gliding around my neck so that she can pull her body up through the water, tight against mine. Fritzi dips her head down, licking my jaw, nibbling my skin, and now I’m the one groaning, begging for more.
“You want more, jäger?” she whispers. “Then take it.”
Under the water, my hands clench around her waist, my body finding hers, driving home. The coil of desire that wraps around us both tightens, tightens, and I can say only her name, over and over, a prayer I will never stop reciting.
After, we find big, fluffy blankets, folded up and warm by the entrance to the bathing pool, as well as clothing—a serviceable but basic tunic for me, and a new shift with a green split-hem gown for Fritzi, trimmed ingold embroidery. We make a little nest along the smooth, shaded stones on the far end of the pool, steam wafting over the warm waters.
“At least now you have something interesting to talk about in your next confession,” Fritzi murmurs, giggling.
“Confession is for sins,” I say, winding my fingers through her wet hair.
“That felt pretty sinful to me,” Fritzi says in a teasing voice.
“No,” I say firmly. “Love isnevera sin.”
Fritzi leans on her elbows, looking up at me. “You really believe that,” she says wonderingly.
“Of course.”
“But—”
“No buts. No corollaries or exceptions. Love is not a sin. It never has been, and it never will be. Anyone who tries to twist that simple truth is the one who sins.”
She settles back down, tucking her head into my chest, idly running her fingers over the hem of my tunic in a way that makes me contemplate just how many more alleged sins I’d like to follow through with tonight.
“The thing I keep thinking about—” she starts, her voice slow, musing.
“Is the way we should take off these clothes and have another bath together?”
She bats at me playfully, but when she looks up at me, I see true concern in her eyes. I regret the way I tried to distract her. “What is it?” I ask.
“There’s something here that’s not right. In the Well, I mean, with the forest folk.” Her voice drops, as if she’s afraid we’ll be overheard. “They said that witches were once bonded. Not just that they worked together, but that they were united.”
I run my fingers through her hair, tucking a stray lock behind her ear.I remember then the way she spoke of such a magical bonding potion when we were still unsure of each other, a lifetime ago. It was a powerful potion, one that would act as a channel between the witch and the person bonded to her.
“When you say, ‘Bonded,’” I start.
“Using the potion I told you about,” Fritzi says, answering my question before I can finish it. “They want either Liesel or me to bond with one of them, and then use our powers combined to sever the Well’s magic from this world.”
