Page 10 of Spice
“Ezra,” she moans, her eyes fluttering closed, her hands gripping the edges of the altar.
“That’s it, Willow,” I encourage, my thumb circling her clit as my fingers curl inside her, stroking that sweet spot. “Ride my fingers. Feel the magic. Feel me.” Her body responds beautifully, her magic surging, the runes glowing brighter. The power builds the connection between us strengthening.
I withdraw my fingers from Willow’s gorgeously tight cunt, her wetness coating my skin. I trace the sigils on her thighs, using her own juices to activate the symbols. She jolts as if struck by lightning, a gasp ripped from her lips. I can see the pleasure coursing through her, her body writhing on the altar. Her aura is shimmering, pink and gold with flecks of deep red. It’s breathtakingly beautiful.She’sbreathtakingly beautiful.
I slip my fingers back inside her, feeling her clench around me. I withdraw them again, now tracing the runes on her hips, marking her with her own slick. Each touch ignites the symbols, their glow intensifying, shifting from a steady light to a sparkling radiance. They glitter like stardust, like the night sky has descended upon her skin.
I repeat the process, my fingers plunging into her dripping cunt, her wetness coating my hand. Each time I trace the symbols, her body responds with a jolt, a buck of her hips, a moan that seems to come from the depths of her soul. The roomis filled with the scent of her, the sound of her pleasure, the sight of her body writhing under my touch.
I want to live in this moment forever.
Her clit is swollen, begging for attention. I pinch it lightly, then rub gentle circles over it. She cries out, her hands fisted in the velvet cloth covering the altar. Magic pulses through her, my own magic rising and gathering in response.
I slide my fingers inside her again, fucking her slowly, and then withdrawing to trace the symbols on her stomach, her ribs, her breasts. Each one glitters and shines, drawing a gasp, a moan, a cry from her lips as I activate it. Her body is my canvas, and I’m painting it with her pleasure. Her skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, her breath coming in sharp gasps. I can hear the steady, rapid beat of her heart.
I plunge my fingers back inside her, my thumb circling her clit. I can feel everything. The magic, the pleasure, the power. It’s all building, all growing, ready to explode.
And then she’s coming again, moaning, shaking. Her body arches, her magic explodes in a puff of pink glitter, and the room is filled with the sound of her orgasm. Her magic is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, the sounds she makes when she comes prettier than anything I’ve ever heard.
I continue to fuck her with my fingers, drawing out her orgasm, her magic. The runes and sigils on her skin glow brighter, their light pulsing in time with her heartbeat, their power merging with hers.
Goddess, she’s beautiful. Naked and glowing with magic, eyes glazed with pleasure. And as I watch her bask in the afterglow of her orgasm, I know I’m lost. Lost in her, to her, with her.
I pull her hips to the edge of the altar, then kneel between her trembling thighs, draping her legs over my shoulders. I lean in, my tongue tracing the intricate patterns on her inner thighs,further activating each one with deliberate, languid strokes. Willow shudders beneath me, her breath hitching in her throat as the magic within her responds to my touch.
The taste of her skin is intoxicating, a heady mix of salt and sweet, magic and desire. Power courses through her veins, an ancient magic now awakened and hungry. I move lower, tracing the outer lips of her pussy with my tongue, teasing her. Teasing both of us.
I lean in closer, inhaling deeply. Fucking hell, she smells incredible. Her pussy is right there, glistening and inviting, and I can’t wait to taste her.
“Such a sweet, pretty pussy,” I murmur, kissing her thigh. “It’s begging for my tongue, isn’t it? Begging for me to claim it.” I look up at her, my eyes locking onto hers. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips parted, her breath coming in quick gasps. She’s a vision, a goddess laid out before me. “Tell me you want it, Willow,” I command, my voice dropping to a low growl. “Tell me you want my mouth on you. Tell me you want me to claim this sweet cunt as mine.”
She whimpers, her hips bucking slightly, seeking more contact. I chuckle darkly. “Such a greedy little thing, aren’t you? Don’t worry, my sweet witch. I’ll give you what you need. But first, I want to hear you say it.”
I trace a finger lightly over her swollen clit, causing her to gasp. “Ezra,” she breathes, her voice barely a whisper.
“That’s right, Willow,” I purr, my finger circling her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. “Say my name. Tell me what you want.”
Her eyes meet mine, filled with lust and desperation. “I want you, Ezra. I want your mouth on me. I want you to claim me.”
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across my face. “Good girl,” I murmur, before leaning in and giving her what she wants. What we both want.
I flatten my tongue and lick her slowly, from her entrance all the way up to her clit, savoring her taste. She’s sweet and tangy, like the finest spellwine. I could feast on her for hours, for days, and never get enough.
“Fuck, you taste good,” I growl against her flesh, my tongue circling her clit, drawing out loud moan from her. Her hips buck against my mouth, seeking more, and I give it to her. I slide two fingers inside her, curling them to hit that sweet spot, my tongue working her clit in time with my fingers.
The runes on her body glow brighter, their light pulsing in time with her heartbeat. Willow’s body convulses, her sopping wet pussy clamping down on my fingers, her clit throbbing against my tongue.
And then she comes again.
Her body arches off the altar, her scream echoing through the room. The entire altar glows white-hot, the runes blazing like the sun, their light blinding. Willow’s release is explosive, her juices squirting from her, coating my face, my fingers, the altar beneath her.
I lap at her, my tongue gathering every drop of her sweetness, my words a low growl against her flesh as I work her with my fingers, pressing on that small, rough spot and making more juice squirt out. “That’s it, my pretty witch. Give me every drop.” I drink down everything she gives me, and I feel like I’m glowing from within. Her magic is warm and sweet, but no less powerful for it.
Willow’s body levitates slightly off the altar, her back arching beautifully as she rides out her climax. I chant through the rising magic, binding it, channeling it. Gold light glimmers between us, her magic and mine swirling visibly together like two storm fronts colliding.
“That’s it, Willow,” I growl, my hands gripping her thighs, spreading her wider. “You’re doing so fucking well. Look at you,levitating, your magic pouring out of you. You’re a goddess. A fucking vision.”
Strands of gold glimmer in the air between us, stretching from my heart to hers. I can’t tell if it’s the mating bond or the ritual magic.
