Page 14 of Cursed by the Love Witch (A Monstrous Holiday #2)

14

DARCEE

I n all honesty, I hadn’t meant to kiss him.

At least not this soon. A stolen kiss here or there a few days from now would’ve been enough. Something chaste before the potion was out of his system. It would make the situation awkward enough for Bael never to bring it up again, and I could graduate in peace.

Instead, I crawled into his lap and am now trying to eat him alive. The kiss is not as chaste as I planned it to be. The first brushing of his lips against mine had set me on fire. The High Warlock tastes of mint and spice. His smell wraps around me like an embrace. My hands slide from his cheek to tunnel into the silk strands of his dark hair. The kiss breaks for a moment to allow me to breathe, and then our lips are together again.

Low growls and groans slip between his teeth. I gasp as his hands dig into my back, locking me to him. Bael wastes no time in slipping his tongue into my mouth. I moan against it, loving the silky feel as ours tangle together.

It is his fault, really. He just had to be so handsome. His commanding voice had worked me into a state. He had been patient and compassionate with me, which snapped my restraint. I had to taste him—if only this once. It’s been a long time since I’ve been kissed, and all of that need is rolling through me, focused singularly on him.

Surprisingly, Bael doesn’t kiss with any real finesse of a practiced lover. His mouth is hungry against mine, but there is no teasing or playing. His kisses are earnest, and that causes more arousal to rush through me. His wandering hands are just as thoughtful as they use my hips to work against him.

His seeking hardness is rampant between my spread thighs. He growls against me, his head falling back against the chair. I writhe on him again and moan at the delicious friction. Hands skim up my back before tangling in my hair. He pulls me to him with a gentle tug, and we resume kissing.

I teach him exactly what I like. The frenzy of our kiss slows as his tongue works with mine before retreating. His mouth drifts lower to kiss down my neck, biting and sucking as he goes. One hand remains in my hair, but the other travels to my backside. Warm fingers fall to the back of my thighs and inch up my bare skin.

“Bael,” I sigh, his fingers dangerously close to the one place I need him but can’t allow him.

I don’t stop him, though, wicked thing that I am. They skim up my leg and under my skirt. Bael sighs against my neck, his warm breath tickling me.

“I can feel just how much you’re enjoying this,” he purrs.

My vision goes blurry as his finger slips under the silk strap of my panties along my hip. Our mouths reunite in a clash of tongues and teeth. My own hands move, seeking their forbidden treasure. I skim them down his chest as he licks along my jaw. His head nuzzles under my chin, and his lips press between my breasts.

Not to be outdone, my hands find the waistband of his pants. This is wrong, but I can’t help myself. The desire is pouring off him in waves. My fingers barely creep below the top of his pants when his hand wraps around mine.

Through heavy-lidded eyes and ragged breath, I watch him shake his head—only once. His breathing is labored as we stay tangled together. His hand slides out from under my clothes and rests firmly on my hip, slowing my movements.

“Not yet,” he rasps.

I can’t hide my pout. In these situations, I’m used to getting my way. Bael chuckles darkly before laying another kiss on me.

“As I said before, little witch, I do not want to rush things between us. There is still much I have planned to woo you.”

My lips twitch.

“I do so like to be wooed,” I say softly, resting my forehead against his.

His smile is brilliant, and I know I’m the only person who’s ever seen it—all because of a lie. The truth of our relationship slams into me. With the frenzy of the kiss cooling, the reality of the situation looms between us. I slide off his lap and tug my clothes back into place.

Goddess, what is wrong with me? Have I no care? Can't I show an ounce of control for even a moment? With this level of encouragement, the potion's effects will only linger. They could intensify if I’m not careful.

At this moment, I make a silent pack. Once Bael has helped me retake all my tests, I will make him an antidote. If the potion has not begun to wane, I will end this by graduation.

I slip on my cloak while Bael picks up my bag, and we exit into the main room. My face heats at the look of his swollen lips. Mine feel just as tender, and I’m sure my hair is in a state. I need to get a better handle on my feelings, if not for him than for myself. Even though it shouldn’t have happened, I can’t regret my kiss with Bael. It was the best one I’ve ever had.

Outside in the main room, the sun is nearly set. Streaks of gold and pink decorate the desolate classroom. In the evenings, the castle is comfortingly still.

“Would you like me to walk you back to your dorm?” Bael asks.

I smile up at him but shake my head. Taking my bag from him, I toss it over my shoulder.

“We’re supposed to be discreet, remember?”

Bael chuckles, his thumb raising to glide along my lower lip.

“You look thoroughly kissed,” he whispers.

A fresh blush erupts on my cheeks as he bends down and meets my mouth in a chaste brush of our lips. It is over far too soon, and I hunger for more instantly. My panties are a sodden mess.

With a wave of his hand, the door to the room unlocks with a loud clang.

“Are you up for another session tomorrow? I threw a lot at you today.” His eyes darken. “In more than one way.”

“I’m ready for more,” I assure him.

Bael nods. “Good. We’ll need to work fast to finish the first and second exams before the class trip to the Bog this weekend.”

I can’t help but wrinkle my nose.

“I hate that place. It’s scary out there.”

“You know I’ll keep you safe.”

“Hmm. You promise?”

Bael chuckles again, his body inching closer to mine.

“If you think I’ll be able to let you out of my sight for a second y?—”

The door to the room groans open, and we jump apart. Standing at the threshold is Mistress Romina. Her shock is palpable. Her dark eyes look between us before her red-painted mouth settles into a hardline. Her hairstyle is as severe as the look she’s leveling me with.

“Miss Thistle,” she says stiffly—eyes narrowing. “High Warlock, I didn’t know you were busy. We usually meet at this time.”

An ugly, oily emotion coats my tongue, and I dare a glance at Bael. I have no right to feel jealous. What if he does like Romina, and I ruined it all because of my potion? I think back to their body language at the equinox party. She was interested, but it was clearly one-sided. Still, maybe something would’ve blossomed between them if it weren’t for me. Once I’m gone, they’ll find their way back to each other.

I open my mouth to respond, but Bael beats me to it.

“Miss Thistle was requiring extra guidance before the end of the semester. She was just on her way out.”

I stare at Bael, his surly mask firmly back in place. He only allows me to glimpse his smile and easy nature. That shouldn’t please me as much as it does. Romina’s mouth pinches around the corner, but she says nothing.

“Thank you for your help, High Warlock,” I say as evenly as possible.

I switch places with Romina, who shuffles through the door effortlessly. She moves around Bael easily, and a fresh wave of jealousy rolls through me. I dare glance back, but they are already discussing as the door falls shut.

What is the nature of their relationship? How often do they meet? What do they discuss? These questions plague me as I enter the dining hall. I snag a few pieces of chicken and some roasted root vegetables before they close.

I quickly eat my dinner and return to my dorm room.

Once I shut and lock the door behind me, I sit at the edge of my bed and unzip my boots. Was there ever a better feeling than taking off your shoes after a long day? Yes—Bael’s kisses. I’d wear my highest pair of heels until my feet bled for just one taste of his mouth again.

I laugh at myself. I sound ridiculous.

Hanging my cloak on the peg by the door, I’m tempted to crawl into bed fully clothed when there is a cawing at my window. A lone raven sits on the sill, a small letter clasped in its beak. The wax seal on the front makes my heart race.

Pushing open the glass window, I pluck the note from his beak and offer him a pumpkin seed as a reward. He flutters away on delicate wings. Walking over to my desk in a daze, I stare at the lone triangle with a ‘T’ resting in the center cast in silver wax—my family seal.

With trembling hands, I snap it and quickly read my father’s familiar script. Bile races up my throat, and tears burn in my eyes at the callous words. I was foolish for reaching out to them. Why do I always do that? I thought maybe enough time had passed with me gone—that things could be different. Now I see just how wrong I was to extend this olive branch.

Still, it hurts all the same. These are my parents—my only family and they have washed their hands of me. That is, unless I cease this devil-worship at once and stop my unholy communications, I shall never hear from him or my mother again. They are both disgusted with my chosen path and do not believe I could be their offspring. The notion they would attend my graduation from such a heinous institution is insulting.

As such, I am never to write them again.

Tears stream down my cheeks, catching on the parchment as it flutters onto my desk. I should burn it—pay a hexes student to cast one upon him for his cruelty, but I can’t bring myself to. All I feel is achingly alone. I should call for Prue, but she’s happy with Zander.

She would understand, but I don’t wish to put this burden on her, especially when her love is so new. She is a good friend to me—always taking me home with her during the holidays and never asking why. Her parents are just as kind, including me in their traditions in ways my parents never would. I am grateful to have them.

Still, I wish I had someone like she has Zander. If I could turn to another for comfort, my family’s final disownment would sting less. I wouldn’t have to explain myself; they could just hold me and let the tears flow for the family I’ll never have.

Besides, it’s my fault for inviting them in the first place. My loneliness had gotten the better of me all those weeks ago and encouraged me to write it. I’d take it back if I could—as I would all those awful memories.

Suddenly, my room is too hot, and the scent of lilacs overwhelms my senses. I rush to the window and throw it open, allowing a cold breeze to disturb the contents of my room. Tearing at my clothes, I shed them as quickly as I can. Once naked, I see my pale skin marred with red along my chest and knees—a fine sheen of sweat dots my forehead.

Turning slightly, I stare at them in the light from my candles—a permanent reminder of their hatred for what I truly am. My fingers graze over the raised and puckered skin. I remember receiving each one and being told that a parent’s love is not given—it is earned—and I will surely never earn theirs.

A sob catches in my throat. Exhaustion flows through me. I wish Bael were here.

The thought appears so suddenly, and yet I cannot deny it. My heart reaches for him—calls to him on the wind as if there was any way he could hear me. I know his being here would make me feel better. He would make me whole again if his feelings for me were genuine. He would allow me to cry in his arms and soothe me through it, continuously reminding me that I wasn’t alone.

That loving me wasn’t something I had to earn.

A fresh wave of sadness spreads throughout my body. I am alone tonight. I should take a sip of my sleeping dram before the nightmares appear tonight. However, I can’t bring myself to do anything except slide on a silk nightgown, crawl into bed, and curl up under the quilt.

The candles in my room go out in an instant. In the dark, I let myself sob and sob until exhaustion makes me delirious. Before I succumb to the darkness, something flutters at my window. A raven has returned, but I swear, just before I’m pulled into sleep, I glimpse its eyes.

Ones that are the same shade as Bael’s.