Page 18 of Trickery

With a chortle, she expanded the plug in his ass, increased her pace. He writhed beneath her, grunting in discomfort and ecstasy. Confusion, terror, sheer elation rippled through him as he neared the edge. His welter of emotion resonated though her as well.

She clenched his cock, took him in deep and circled her hips until he huffed and wheezed and snarled beneath the gag. Panic rose inside him, warring with the excitement. He fought against the coming explosion, heightening both their arousal.

With a wicked smile, she began to move faster, fucking herself, fucking him, into a frenzy. She was aware of bodies dragging against each other, tingling flesh, pleasure, sensation. She smelled his sweat, tasted his aching desire to explode.

Or maybe it was hers.

Darkness approached. Something ominous and thrilling, hunting her, haunting her. The impending climax loomed, stalked them both, skulking like a beast, like a dragon determined to burn them both to a crisp. It flew closer, this fury. Scalding wind whipped through her. The eddies of her magic shuddered, all in tandem, as it bore down upon them and took them. It was there, in him, in her. Blurring the lines of reality and sanity. Magic. Crawling into their pores, elating them.

It was at the crux of their passion, as the delirium took them, as their bodies quivered and shook and imploded with gushing pleasure, that the door to Damien’s apartment burst open and a whole other kind of fury washed in.

Willow wasn’t able to contemplate this invasion, at least not at the moment. And she was doubtful Damien could either. They were both twirling, reeling in the grip of exquisite sensation. Besides, she didn’t want to be bothered. Didn’t want to be distracted. Not now. Not yet. Not until she was done. Not until she had milked every drop of his luscious cum, pulled it deep into her body and given it a home in her womb.

She closed her eyes. And finished.

And so it was Lord Azreal, the Great Warlock, the most powerful man on the planet, was forced to stand there and watch as she, this novice witch, finished fucking his son.

It was impressive, he had to admit. Somehow she’d managed to rein in a boy who at times seemed totally uncontrollable. Oh, she’d done more than rein him in. She’d bound him, hand and foot, completely subjugated him with her magic. And fucked him.

Thing was, Azreal doubted she even realized what she’d accomplished.

He stood there and watched in silence as the couple writhing on the bed came. And came and came and came.

Well, hell.

What he wouldn’t give to come like that again.

By the time they’d finally finished, by the time she collapsed upon him and released him from his bonds, panting and gasping and twitching, Azreal felt a trifle…de trop.

Still, he stood there, fists on his hips, attempting to look ominous and commanding and infuriated. A dark cape draped his powerful form and his long blond hair fluttered out behind him although there was no breeze. A great and powerful aura cloaked him, sure to strike fear in the hearts of all who surveyed him.

Azreal glared at the bed, repositioned his fists on his hips and called up more wind.

Really. Sometimes he didn’t know why he bothered. No one was paying any attention.

Leave it to his son to utterly ignore his eminence.

He should be furious about that. About all of it. Damien had tried to hide her from him. He’d defied his father and seduced a woman forbidden to him and then hid her. He’d built a moat surrounding this bower and reflected the All Seeing Eye, making it impossible for the Brethren to find this little nest. If their passion hadn’t been so damn powerful, like a shining beacon screeching, howling through the darkness, no one would have found them.

Azreal bit back a grin.

Really. This was no time for fatherly pride.

These two had broken the rules. Hell, they’d shattered them. Violated the Novitiate.

There would be hell to pay.

Skylar and Midea weren’t far behind the Great Warlock. The Great Mother Witch scudded into Damien’s apartment on a frenetic trail of magic belying her age. They took in the scene with twin looks of horror on their faces.

Although Skylar’s horror was probably also due to the fact that Azreal was here. She saw him—standing there trying to look ominous—and blanched. Not because he looked ominous, simply because he was there. She shuddered and looked away.

Unfortunately, she averted it straight to the bed. Where her protégé lounged naked in the arms of her worst nightmare.

“Oh Gaia, Willow,” she warbled. “What have you done?” She stared at the two bodies, still entangled, at the receding spirals of sorcery that made no secret of their purpose. Holy hell. The room reeked of fucking. She turned to Midea, tears teasing her lashes. “We’re too late.”

Midea’s lips tightened. She pinned the Great Warlock with a rapier gaze. “I told you to keep the boy in check.”

Azreal shrugged, holding both palms up in a mockery of supplication. “I forbade him to pursue her.”