"You can add sprinkles on top…" I feel a kiss on my right thigh. "...I have orange-purple…" Another kiss on my left thigh. "Or black…" He presses his lips on my thong and I gasp.
"What’s wrong?" She lifts her eyes to meet mine.
"Nothing… just an annoying ghost in the back." I try to nudge him away, but he grabs me tighter, and he grins.
"Oh, I see… you can see them…" She walks to the shelves with jars full of sprinkles and talks about something I can’t concentrate on. I look down at Nox. He is sitting on the floor comfortably with his legs extended in front of him. He has crossed his ankles casually, his Vans pointing outward slightly. His posture is unguarded, almost boyish. He leans his spine against the counter, wraps his arms around my thighs, and puts his head between my legs. He lifts his gaze slowly, savoring the moment before looking up at me. When his eyes meet mine, they don’t just see me; they seduce me. They’re dark, steady and full of quiet intent. There is a softness in his expression, but no innocence. His lips are parted as if he is about to speak but chooses silence instead. The angle of his face catches the light just enough to make eerie shadows dance across his cheekbones, accentuating the quiet tension in his posture.
He doesn’t smile. He doesn’t need to. The way he looks at me… like I am the only thing worth noticing… or eating, is enough to make the air feel heavier, charged with something unspoken.
"Stop it!" I finally come back to my senses and push his hand away.
"You know I won’t."
"If she sees you, we are both dead."
We function like two halves of a spell.Although Nox being a vampire should have been enough to keep me away from him. Since I was a kid, my coven has taught me that vampires arepredators, liars, cursed things of the night that wear charm as a mask. Witches and vampires don’t belong together. Not in stories. Not in flesh. After they have died, they need our blood, the blood of witches, to rise as immortals.That is why we are raised to loathe them: for them to become immortal, a witch must die.
I have never been good at following rules, though. Our connection started in silence on the evening we met. We have to hide what we have. Not because we don’t have chemistry, but because my world wouldn’t understand. The legends are too old; the hatred runs too deep. My Coven sisters would call me reckless and weak. They wouldn’t understand that I don’t love him because it’s forbidden; I love him because of who he is. I love him because he listens, because he stayed, and I love him because when I faltered? He held me tight. I would rather live in hiding with Nox, then walk proudly in a world without him.
"Well…"
Oh yes, he is dead.I roll my eyes at him and try to nudge him with my knee, but he kisses it.
"I’ll take the festive ones." The witch picks up a jar from the shelf, and my spine straightens right away, my body slamming into the counter. I smile at her.
"Good." I tell her after clearing my throat.
"Have you heard? They are looking for a place to create an orphanage. Since the fire…" Nox caresses my skin. His fingers crawl upward. "...of course, the vampires…" He kisses me again, and I can feel my insides warming up. "They should not live among us…" His lips graze my center, the lace of my underwear interfering. I can feel him forming a naughty smile. "A vampire should never touch a witch!" His mouth covers me suddenly and I swear not even a snowstorm could cool me down right now. He pushes my lingerie to the side with his finger, while kissing my inner thighs again. He tries to get me to fidget, and I’m obsessedwith his lustful play. His hand moves towards my mound, brushing it with his fingertips and parting them for access. I want him. He starts to lick me upward, moving towards my clit. He just stops for a moment, just long enough for the witch to pay.
"Never." I respond with a smile on my face.
Nox starts to touch me again with his fingers and goes in with his tongue. He’s licking and flicking on and around my clit. His thumb is hanging over my sensitive parts naturally. Using it to tab and rub while sucking my clit. The door closes behind the witch, and Nox instantly inserts two of his fingers inside me. I moan his name and I try to reach for the counter to steady myself, but my hand collides with a jar of black marshmallow snowflakes. It tumbles to the ground, unleashing a flurry of shards that scatter in every direction. I collapse onto his lap, straddling him, and he starts laughing.
"I want you, bat boy." I breathe in his smokey scent.
"Then play with me, nightshade."
Chapter 4
NOX
She has no manners while riding me. She moves with grace, threading her fingers through the jagged constellation of broken glass. Her breath is shallow after every moan, careful not to stir the air too much, letting the pieces of glass shift and waits for them to slice. Her bare knees hover just above the glittering wreckage, and I am afraid she’ll cut herself. She knows I lack the power to feed from her.Her hips dance on me while she takes me in deeper and goes faster. Her hot fingers reach for one of the marshmallow snowflakes. It quickly starts to melt between them, creating a sticky spiderweb. Its spongy core transforming into molten black silk, stretching and oozingwith every movement. She licks it; the candy sticking to her tongue. My hands grip her harder, holding her still on my cock. She kisses me, and our tongues clash. The sticky candy oozes gently. A silky sweetness that adheres and envelops, extends in lazy strands as we draw back. She kisses me again, both of us swallowing the sweet, black mixture that has formed in our mouths.
"It tastes like you." I tell her between our kisses. My words brush her sticky lips. She leans back, gazing at me; the tip of her nose blushes bright.
"I taste like marshmallows?"
"You taste like the black snowflake ones."
She laughs.
I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, my knuckles graze her cheek. She smiles and leans in, kissing the tip of my nose.Then she targets my lips, sucking in the bottom one and nibbling on the flesh. Her marshmallow-y tongue slips out and meets mine. Her hips begin to sway once more, taking me in so good. My thumb traces the curve of her cheek, the faint hum of her magic sparks against my cold skin. She feels the pull of me—not just the centuries that are reflected in my gaze, but the unspoken promise that I will never let her go.
When we kiss, it is wild, hot, as though we are tasting not just our lips, but the very essence of our power. The air between us shimmers every single time, her magic and my hunger twining together in a fragile, dangerous harmony. In these moments, there is no curse, no prophecy—only the touch of my hand, the heat of her pulse and the eternity we both pretend not to crave.
A soft, unbidden sound escapes her lips, carrying the weight of everything she feels. She lowers herself further, taking more of me in. If she doesn’t slow down, her climax will be unavoidable. My hands, demon hands, grip her forcefully by the hips. I hold her where it matters, to control her and to make it impossible to know which one of us is moving. She has no mercy on my cock, moving exactly how we both like it. Another moan. The second I put my finger on her clit, her orgasm builds up, shattering her into a million pieces. She is tighter, offers no resistance and comes apart right before me. I pull my cock out of her, and her hand wraps around it. I release one liner of cum up her forearm, and she squeezes the last droplets of my orgasm out on her fingers.
Neo’s pulse starts to raise and her skin fades to a ghostly hue. Someone is here.
