Page 54 of Spark of Sorcery
I stare down at my crotch.
My own fucking erection was something that used to greet me every morning without fail. A cock that hardened at the merest hint of invitation. A reliable cock. A greedy one. A sated cock too.
It’s been a long time since my cock has stirred. Even longer since it was sated.
I’m no fool, it’s more that I feel for her than just a hunger.
I want her in all the ways it’s possible to have a woman.
I unbutton the fly of my pants with a hurried eagerness and a bitter shame.
I wrap my hand around my neglected cock and stroke down the shaft, then up.
I groan, slumping back against the door.
The ghost watches me just as eagerly, tongue sliding over her bottom lip.
“I want to fuck you,” I tell the ghost. “I want to fuck you long and hard and slow until you’re screaming my name. Mine!”
“Yes,” she purrs and the sound of her voice makes my cock twitch in my fist.
It’s been a long, long time and the temptation before my eyes – imaginary as it is – is too great. Half a dozen fucking strokes of my cock and I’m groaning out her name, stomach moaning, the blood pounding in my ear. With the ghost of her watching on, I come.
But even that is different. Different than it was before.
Chapter Twenty
Briony
The mysterious head of the academy most definitely is a masochist because the day after the ball is not a day off as would be entirely reasonable. Nope, it’s back to lessons and first up, physical training.
“This is seriously sick,” Fly yawns as the Gruesome Twosome announce with obvious glee that it’s circuit again today.
Most people seem to be in agreement with Fly. Several of the shadow weavers are wearing shades today despite having access to that anti-hangover draught Dray gave me. Nearly everyone else is either looking pale, green or like they haven’t slept in a week.
I’m taking it Fly may be one of the latter. He didn’t answer when I knocked for him this morning and I figured he either didn’t make it back to his own bed last night orelse he had company. Either way, he only just made it to the start of class in time and is looking a lot more … crumpled than usual.
Clare did make it to breakfast, not that she actually managed to eat anything.
I think I might be the only student in the academy who isn’t nursing a hangover. It makes me feel pretty smug, especially when I spy Odessa dry-retching into her fist and being accompanied by the tall toothless girl. The Smyte twins are also not looking as glamorous as usual – both are massaging their temples – although Henrietta still manages to find the energy to scowl across at me.
I consider giving a cheery wave but I probably shouldn’t provoke her. I’ve had enough encounters with lightning to last me a lifetime.
There must be gods out there somewhere after all. It certainly feels like some kind of revenge. Last time we underwent a session of circuits with the two Titan twins, I was the one dying in agony and suffering massively. Today, it’s everyone else. There is a lot of moaning and groaning and several cases of vomiting. Most people are covered in a sheen of sickly sweat and the odor isn’t exactly pleasant.
Still, I milk it for all it’s worth, pleased I can actually do more sit-ups, press-ups and burpees than most of the other students.
Except for the Princes of course. I think they could each lose a limb and several pints of blood and would still make every single exercise known to man look like a piece of cake.
Between different rounds I manage to quiz Fly.
“So how was your evening?” I say, with a knowing look that is totally borrowed from his play book. Is it evil that it’s fun to tease him about this for once?
“Lovely, thank you,” he says, trying to pat down the unruly curls on the crown of his head.
“Lovely,” I say, “is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says.
