“They didn’t mention anything like that to be honest, Fynn, but I mean… it could possibly be related? Maybe the curse tries to bind you to a woman it chooses instead of letting you follow your own… feelings. We can put it to the test if you’d like.”
She arches an eyebrow at me with a smile.
“You’re the worst flirt, you know that, Caria?” I laugh.
“Fine, then, no kisses for you; I’ll find another willing victim that does want to explore me,” she says teasingly, pouting her lips.
“Get over here, you,” I say possessively.
I grab her by her waist, and I pull her onto my lap; I wrap my hand around her neck, and I kiss her hard, with no hesitation. My mind is made up. I want both Caria and Jodelle—I want to kiss them, fuck them, to make them mine, both of them. I need to figure out how to make that happen. I want toown them both. I need the witch to submit to me. As I explore her mouth with my tongue, my thoughts take a deeper turn.
“Ouch, Fynn, what the hell?” she exclaims as she pushes herself off me and stumbles away, her eyes wide with shock, tears welling up in distress.
Her lips are swollen and turning a dark crimson, as if burned, while her neck also bears a deep red hue, with small translucent blisters beginning to form, the skin around it tender. A waxy white tint appears. The area where I placed my other hand shows scorched patches of fabric. I stare at her in disbelief, then look at my hands, which reveal nothing unusual, my skin pale as it always is. I turn them around, but they appear the same.
“Caria, are you alright? Can I help you? Is this the curse’s doing?” I ask, worried and confused.
I reach for her, but she backs away with bewildered eyes, glaring at me accusingly.
“No, Fynn, this is that damned magic of yours. Fuck, it hurts, it hurts so bad,” she sneers.
She breathes heavily as her skin produces more and more patches of bubbles full of clear fluid and additional blisters. It seems as though a single brush could tear it open, exposing the raw, vulnerable flesh beneath. I witness her healing herself, as she murmurs words I don’t recognize. She grimaces as she endures the pain, blood knots her skin, and she repairs the blisters that are now also forming on her lips, while tears stream down her face in agony.
I feel so powerless. I want to help her, hold her. Whisper to her that it will all be alright. Another thought infiltrates my mind. How am I supposed to kiss her or fuck her when I burn her to pieces with my bare touch?
Why do I care about some fucking witch? I could just fuck her once, rip her pussy in half, burn her mouth apart with my cock, and scorch her throat to pieces.
I shake my head and blink as the intrusive, vile thoughts dissipate. Shock overcomes me as I stare at Caria, the thoughts that popped up so randomly make me nauseous. I will never hurt Caria intentionally. Will I?
“What the hell just happened, Fynn?” Caria pants while keeping her distance from me.
“I don’t know. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” I ask worriedly.
“Yeah, I am fine now.”
She rubs her neck, the skin slightly discolored but free of bubbles and lesions. Her lips have returned to normal as well. I want to touch her and draw her into my embrace, but she winces, and I pull back my outstretched hand.
“Maybe I got a little too excited, and the magic took over,” I mumble.
She looks me over wearily and gently touches my cheek without saying a word. She quickly retracts her slim hand, but nothing happens—no burn marks, no new blisters. Caria steps closer and takes a whiff. Cautiously, she moves in until she’s face-to-face with me again. A quick peck follows, our lips brushing against each other for just a moment.
Again, no burn marks or blisters. She cautiously places her lips on mine, holding them as still as I do. Nothing happens—no burning sensation, no reaction. She parts her mouth, her tongue gliding over my lips, and I instantly open up, inviting her in, my tongue meeting hers impatiently. I lay my hands on her hips, feeling the rough patch of torn clothing beneath my fingers—a stark reminder of what I unconsciously just did to her without even realizing it. With our tongues entwined and our lips locked together, we wait again.
Nothing. I slowly move my hands underneath her shirt, my cock stirring as I feel her firm breasts. She moans deliciously in my mouth while I work her soft flesh, her moaning the consent I need to continue. Swiftly, she unbuttons my pants, releasing my erect member. Her hands start gliding along my length. I groan into her mouth as I begin to breathe erratically. She breaks our kiss and slowly sinks onto her knees.
“Don’t you dare burn me with your cock; I’ll never forgive you,” she warns with a seductive smile.
The moment her lips wet my tip and her warm mouth envelops my shaft, I am no longer able to form a coherent train of thought. All I feel is those full lips around my cock and her warm, wet tongue gliding up and down. It feels better than I imagined. Caria takes my hands and places them on her head.
“Release your tits; I need to see them bounce,” I say, panting.
She obeys without question and takes off her top, freeing her breasts. I look at her in disbelief, this beautiful specimen on her knees forme, those golden orbs staring up at me, waiting for my instructions. I gaze at her chest, then back at her. I braid my hands into her thick, red hair and roughly shove her mouth back where it belongs, tonguing my cock. She quickly finds a rhythm that makes it hard for me to postpone my orgasm. The moment I glance down, I almost come undone. I rapidly debate internally whether I should pull her face back and cum all over it, but I am unsure if she would forgive me for such a selfish act. Instead, I push myself as deeply as I can into her throat and spill my release, unable to hold it in any longer. My action forces her to swallow it all, which she does seemingly happily. Thankfully, it doesn’t burn her esophagus, and I let out a sigh of relief.
“Fuck, Caria, that was amazing,” I grunt.
“It was, handsome,” she smirks.
“Did you experience any hurt, like the pain you had the previous time?” she inquires.
