Page 142

Story: Bewitched

I can feel you getting close, he whispers in my head, never stopping his ministrations.

I don’t bother responding. He’s right after all.

Call me your soul mate, he continues,and I’ll let you come.

I’m sorry, what?

I let out a disbelieving laugh.

I thought we went over this. I thought he agreed to drop the term.

And if I don’t?I say silently to him.

Memnon stops kissing me, stops fingering me; he goes utterly still.

“Then I won’t give you your release,” he says, staring up my body.

I meet his gaze. “You bastard.”

His fingers begin moving again.

“Close,” he says,“but that’s still the wrong word. Try again,soul mate.”

I grimace at that word, but then Memnon’s mouth is on my pussy, doing that same damn thing with his mouth. He’s not even being creative at this point. He knows it’s what does it for me. And damn it, it’s enough for me to get sucked under all over again.

“Feels so good, Memnon,” I admit. I’m panting, moving my hips against him.

Still not the right word, little witch, he chastises.

I moan instead of replying, my body tightening in anticipation of—

The sorcerer backs off my clit, moving to a far-less-stimulating area near my outer lips.

I cry out in frustration.

Say it, he commands.

I don’t. But if I thought my resistance would make him stop eating me out altogether, I thought wrong. No, Memnon seems happy enough to continue running his lips and his teeth and his tongue over other sensitive portions of my pussy. He even eventually returns to my clit, working me into a frenzy once more.

But just as I’m again about to tip over the edge, he backs off.

“Memnon.”I practically growl his name.

I can do this all day, Empress, he says in my head.

I blow out an agitated breath. I’m being edged by a fucking monster who knowsexactlywhat he’s doing to my body.

Say it.Now it’s him who’s pleading with me.

Apparently, promised orgasms make me weak because I silently say to him,It won’t mean anything.

Perhaps not to you, he responds. But it will mean something to him.

He begins working me again, and I let out another annoyed sound because it feels so terribly, exquisitely good, but I know it’s going to stop the moment I get close to climaxing.

I could just say it.

It’s only a single word. What’s a bit more role-playing? It really won’t mean anything.

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