As I settle in beside him, my fingertips glide beneath his shirt, following a path across his chest, stroking his warm skin, pushing at his clothing. I lower my mouth to his chest, tasting his body as he watches me from beneath his lashes.
Today, he tastes salty like seawater, but also somehow sweet.
I reach for the waistband of his pants, tugging them down before I slip my left leg across his hips so that I’m straddling him while my wet core rests right up against his length. I don’t take my eyes off his face as I wrap my fingers around him, stroking across his silky skin.
As his breath hitches, his lips part and then settle into a soft line that I’d kiss if I could reach his face, but for now, my focus remains on his length.
His eyelids lower with every stroke of my hands, the tension releasing from his stomach and shoulders until he appears more peaceful than I’ve ever seen him—despite the way his breathing increases and his thigh muscles tighten.
Sensing he’s close to the crash, I lean forward, laying myself close to his chest, my breasts brushing his skin as I reach for his lips.
His hand closes around the back of my head, drawing me down to his mouth, his lips crashing against mine, a hunger that devours me, mouth and tongue and heart and soul.
Suddenly, I’m the one moaning, needing this kiss like I need the darkness of night.
I sense the tightening of his stomach muscles before he shudders beneath me, his groan mingling with my gasps.
I inhale the sound of his pleasure like it’s air and I need it.
Our kiss softens, slower, lighter by the second until it breaks.
He opens his eyes and within them is the slightest hint of soft green, seemingly a trick of the light, before they’re strongly blue again.
With a satisfied sigh, I draw back into an upright position, still straddling him while he sweeps his hand across his stomach, his emerald-green warlock power glimmering and taking his cum with it.
I sink down against him, letting the silence settle around us, tracing the contours of his muscles, pressing kisses where I can reach him.
Too soon, reality presses in on me again. I need to pee, to stay healthy, and after that, I have so many questions for him. I eye the nearby bushes unhappily, only to find him smiling at me.
“There’s a bathroom at the back of the little hut,” he says.
“Oh?” I didn’t see any doors, but then, this place seems to be made of camouflaged spaces.
“Here.” His emerald magic glimmers again and my clothing rises from the ground while he scoops me up into his arms.
I nod, pressing my face, blindfold and all, to his shoulder as he carries me from within the trees to the little hut at the side of the pond.
Once there, I make out the very faint lines at the edge of panels that slide open to reveal a small area at the back with a toilet, sink, and what appears to be a little dressing area.
Once I’ve finished up, I return to the outer area of the hut to find the keeper sitting calmly there.
After pulling on my clothing, I slide down beside him, slipping my arms around him.
“Why are you so reluctant to help the panthers?” I ask softly, propping my chin on his shoulder. “I understood your reticence when we were in that little apartment, given the explosion, but why now?”
“Because curse magic is never purely dark magic,” he replies, shifting a little to stroke my hair down my back. “It also carries something of its maker. The magic that gargoyle would have used is what he would have called ‘deep magic,’ but now we call it ‘old magic.’”
“Of course,” I muse. “It wasn’t exactly ‘old’ at the time.”
The keeper chuckles. “Precisely.” He sobers. “But breaking a curse like that carries a risk that I wasn’t fully aware of when I did it.”
“What kind of risk?”
“The release of old magic could harm anyone it touches.”
I remember the billowing smoke, which I thought was a byproduct of the explosion, but now I remember just how forcefully the keeper reacted… “Is that why you inhaled the smoke?”
He nods. “I had to do everything in my power to contain it.”
