Page 35 of Wrongfully Magicked
The mental exercises I do daily have reduced the pain to a manageable ache. Honestly, I barely feel the burning sting of heat anymore, the warmth more of a comforting hug. Something tells me if I want to battle against a demon and survive, I’ll need to push myself even harder and hopefully not kill myself in the process.
“And you think you and your friends will be able to help me?” My doubts thicken the air, and I narrow my eyes, suddenly wondering if this is some sort of elaborate trap. Maybe they helped me escape MID just so they could turn me over to my family and claim the reward themselves. I swallow hard, my throat suddenly parched. “Where are your friends, exactly?”
“Cassius is standing guard, Porter is out getting supplies, while Darby is downstairs, erasing any trace of us and mappinga safe route through the borderlands.” The knot in my gut eases at his quick reply, his expression earnest, and I almost believe he truly wants to help.
Only one thing keeps me from trusting him.
Nobody does something for nothing.
I have to find out what they want before it comes back to bite me on the ass…or give them the slip while I still have the opportunity and take my chances on my own.
It’s not even a choice.
I hold back a grimace, already feeling bad as I take a step toward Soren. He stills, tilting his head to the side, wearing an almost hopeful expression. Before he can say anything, I go up on my toes and steal another kiss, desperate for one last taste. Just as he leans forward to deepen the kiss, I shove my screaming conscience to the back of my mind and bring my knee up hard and fast.
He grunts, the air leaving him in a rush, and he bends over, clutching himself.
The guilt is almost crippling, and I hesitate for a second.
Then I harden my resolve. I can’t afford to weaken now. “I’m really sorry.”
Even as he drops to his knees, he reaches for me. I evade his hands, nimbly dancing out of reach. With my heart in my throat, I head for the door.
“Wait,” he calls, his voice hoarse, and I can’t stop myself from looking back at his entreaty…just in time to see him struggling to get to his feet.
If he gets his hands on me, I know I won’t get another chance. Without hesitation, I yank open the door and run like my life depends on it.
CASSIUS
Ilean against the wall in the hallway, staring at the closed doorway in front of me. I should be downstairs watching over Darby, but I can’t seem to make myself put more distance between me and the girl.
Not having her in my sight is a form of torture, like part of my senses have been cut off. She’s like a beacon of light in my dark life, and I’m not sure if I want to snuff her out or claim her for my own.
The perfume of her lust reaches me, even through the closed door, and my basilisk slithers into knots in my chest with the need to break down the barrier to get to her. I’m not even aware I’m crossing the hallway until my hand is pressed against the door. The solid wood is reassuring. It brings me back to my senses for a moment, and I shake my head, trying to clear it of her influence.
When I hear her moan, my fangs snap down and venom instantly floods my mouth. Instead of poison, it’s a potent spice, more of an aphrodisiac that we exude when the need to fuck takes over. I press my forehead against the hard grain of the wood to stop myself from ripping the door open and joining them.
I don’t share women. I barely even think about them as anything but a nuisance. When I can’t contain my need to fuck,I’ll find an available partner to keep my beast from going feral, but the joining is nothing more than a routine bodily function.
With Anita, my beast would demand more…demand everything.
He wants to touch and taste and claim, and I’m an asshole, because I want that as well…even if my touch and look would be dangerous.
Even lethal.
It’s only that thought that keeps me from beating the door down to get to her. Maybe if one of the other guys were present, they could keep me in check and prevent me from hurting her.
My heart leaps at the thought, thrumming against my ribs. More venom floods my mouth, the potency leaving me lightheaded…or maybe it’s the thought that Anita is just beyond the door.
I swear she’s so near, I can practically feel her heat through the thin barrier. I shuffle closer, pressing my ear to the door like some perv, not caring that I’m invading their privacy.
Anything to do with Anita involves me, and I have a right to know what he’s doing to her. As Soren pleasures Anita, I’m unable to resist reaching into my pants and gripping my cock. The tiny little whimpers and moans she makes have my balls ready to explode.
I grip the base of my cock, hoping to stave off my release, then grunt when I’m unable to stop from thrusting into my hand. Her lust deepens, the heavenly sugar and spice scent thickening in my lungs. My cock swells, and I don’t even bother trying to stop myself from stroking my dick from base to tip with hard, long pulls. I give a sharp twist at the end, and the pleasure-pain soon has my hips thrusting like a piston.
When she cries out, my release splatters on the door, and I clench my teeth to hold back my own shout. My release drags out for an eternity, bordering on painful as I imagine that it’s mepleasuring her. By the time I’m done, I’m panting and leaning against the door to keep from dropping to my knees.
Instead of feeling replete, it’s like I never came, my cock still hard and heavy and aching for the feel of her pussy. I tuck myself away, grimacing at the mess left behind—proof of my lack of control. Maybe I should be ashamed, but I’m still too horny, too on edge to feel anything but the need to take her again and again.
