Page 34 of Head Witch in Charge (The Sherwood Witches #2)

Erik…

Just having that inch of air between us is fucking killing me.

Unlike her usually put-together self, LeLe is all unwound.

Her red hair is coming loose from her ponytail and the humidity has curled some of the loose strands at her nape.

There are a few small pieces of leaves caught in the weave of the torturously thin green sweater she’s wearing, the one that doesn’t hide just how hard her nipples are right now.

I wish there was something off about her jeans, some reason why I should recommend she get rid of them, but they are as perfect as the round ass they’re covering.

There’s not a stain from a drop of her ice cream.

There’s not a smudge of dirt from our wild drive through the woods.

There’s not a snag from sleeping on the trolls’ platform in the sky.

And that perfect denim is the exception that proves the rule that Leona Sherwood is—maybe for the first time ever—letting herself go.

Her plushy curves fitting against me like this is just what should happen naturally every time we’re together. The mix of hard and soft, good and bad, anticipation and satisfaction—the perfect combination.

“Is all of this some kind of spell?” she asks without turning around, sounding like a woman fighting against what should happen and what she wants to happen. “Is it magic making me feel like this?”

“It’s worse, because Nullam Inhibitionis isn’t a spell at all.

It’s a sacred treaty between the satyrs and the rest of Witchingdom guaranteeing that in their spaces, the only thing that matters is what you want.

” Giving in to that near-constant urge to touch her, I curl one of the spiraling wisps of loose hair around my finger, tightening just enough that LeLe can’t hold in her soft moan of pleasure.

“It’s not a spell. It’s freedom. This is just us with our layers of responsibilities, obligations, and inhibitions loosened. ”

“More like unbuttoned, half off, and slipping down quick,” LeLe says as she melts back against me. “I shouldn’t want this.”

That makes two of us. It’ll only be harder to do what I know needs to be done at the power exchange ceremony and betray her if I give in to this feeling to hold her, protect her, make her feel good any way I can.

I’d fight it if I could, but I can’t. No.

That’s a lie I can’t even tell myself. I don’t want to fight it.

I want to give in. I want LeLe to give in.

I want us to be in our world, not the one outside.

I want it all.

And unlike LeLe, I’m not above being selfish. I’m gonna tease and tempt to get my way, to make her want me as much as I’ve wanted her since the first moment I saw her at the hotel pool.

Yeah, I’m a bastard and I don’t care.

“So I shouldn’t do this.” I reach around and slip a hand underneath the hem of her soft sweater.

Her quiet exhale nearly undoes me. “And you don’t want me to do this.

” Light, so fucking light it nearly kills me, I trail my fingers over the rise of her belly, up toward the valley between her heavy tits as she rocks her ass against me.

“And this”—I slide my fingers under the cup of her bra, and the air around us begins to spark as I roll her nipple between my finger and thumb—“is definitely a nonstarter.”

Her only answer is a needy moan as her eyelids flutter shut.

Watching her face in the huge mirror across the room as I pinch and tug her nipple is almost more than I can take, especially when my dick is pressed against her full ass. Her lips are parted slightly and her eyes are closed as she lets the sweetest, hungriest, most desperate sounds escape.

“I don’t think Leona Sherwood is allowed to make that sound.

She has to just close her eyes and think of Witchingdom.

” I pull her nipple almost too hard, and she melts into me with a lusty sigh of pleasure that goes straight to my aching dick.

“But you’re not just the Sherwood heir tonight.

” I need to hear her make that sound again, the one that says all she can think about is us, so I tighten my arm around her waist, locking her in place against me in a firm hold she could break with a whisper, but she doesn’t. “ Who are you?”

“LeLe,” she says, her name riding the wave of that needy moan.

“So close, but not quite,” I murmur as the ribbon of control starts to slip through my hands, and there’s nothing gentle about the way I’m holding her against me. “Let’s try it again. Who are you tonight?”

She rocks her ass against my hard cock and starts to repeat, “Le—”

I stop toying with her nipple.

I loosen my hold around her waist.

I’m nearly wild with this need I can’t explain, this have-to-have that overwhelms almost everything else.

I’m ready to roar, to demand, to insist; it’s building up in me, rushing to the surface like an epic wave that will wash away half the earth, but when I open my mouth, what comes out isn’t any of that.

“Tonight, LeLe,” I say, the raw request giving her an exact map to deliver a death blow—something a lifetime of experience as a Svensen taught me to never ever do. “Who are you just for tonight ?”

Empires rise and fall in the silence as it stretches and winds around us until it is squeezing me so tight I couldn’t move even if I wanted to—which I don’t. Ever. I can stay like this for as long as it takes.

Without meaning to, I let the question slip out again, a bare whisper that’s nothing more than a live wire of desperate want. “Who are you?”

“Wife,” she says without hesitation.

The last threads of control slip past my fingers and I don’t even try to hold on.

I spin her around and my mouth comes crashing down on hers.

I want to imprint this night on her, make it part of who she is so that later, when she hates me again, when she wants nothing more than to see me banished to The Beyond or—more probably—from existence completely, she still remembers tonight.

And I’ll remember it all. The way she fits against me. The way she’s just as demanding as I am when she kisses me back. How she buries her fingers in my hair and tugs to force me closer and holds me there—as if she needs to.

“Erik,” she says, coming up for air from that kiss that has both of us breathless. “I want you to stay.”

If I wasn’t so fucking hard, I would melt with relief. “Whatever you want, wife.”

Her fingers are on the hem of my sweater, just resting there, as if she’s still making up her mind deciding if I’m worthy.

I already know the answer to that, and I’m more than half tempted to magic all our clothes off with a quick spell to distract her from the truth—but like always, LeLe is one step ahead of me.

One soft whisper from her and my sweater is gone.

“This doesn’t change anything,” she says as she traces her fingertips across my chest, setting off a literal line of sparks in their wake as the scent of our magic mixing together begins to fill the air.

“Tonight is tonight. When we leave the inn tomorrow, it’s back to who we are on the outside. ”

Done fighting the urge to touch her, I tuck a strand of her silky hair behind her ear, relishing the way her eyes darken with lust even from this small gesture. “What, me being my usual bad self and you only being evil adjacent?”

Both of her eyebrows go up. “Excuse me?”

“You, LeLe Sherwood Svensen,” I say, marveling at how she can even make my last name seem like something good, “are a naughty girl surrounded by nice-girl wrapping.”

“I am not,” she says, the flick of her gaze down to the floor giving away the fact that even she doesn’t fully believe her words.

“So how do you explain what happened with the trolls?” I ask, fighting the urge to kiss that knowing almost-smile of hers. “You set that race’s rules up with loopholes you knew I could make my way through blindfolded.”

“Don’t forget it was to trap you into completing the dimitto spell,” she says, her full cheeks turning pink.

“And yet you didn’t hold me to it.” I lean in a little bit closer, unable to stop myself from teasing her just to see her pretend not to be affected. “Doth the heir protest too much?”

She shrugs one shoulder with practiced indifference. “That was just smart maneuvering.”

“You mean manipulation.” I put my knuckle under her chin and tilt her face up. “It’s okay to be a little bad, wife.” I drag the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip, leaving it to rest there. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

“I don’t, huh?” she asks before nipping my thumb and then kissing it all better.

“No.” Even with the brush of her lips, the sting of her bite and the look in her eyes promising trouble goes straight to my aching dick. “You can let that evil-adjacent witch come out and play tonight. Put your wants first for once.”

She takes a step back and looks me up and down.

One side of her mouth goes up in a smirk almost as dangerous as the look in her eyes.

The air sizzles around us, and I have half a second of oh-shit-what-have-I-unleashed hesitation before the scent of coffee swirls around me.

LeLe’s magic surrounds me, touching and caressing as it lifts me from the floor, and when I come back down across the room, it’s without my clothes in front of a mirror that takes up half the wall.

She strides toward me, her hips swaying with each step. “I’m going to arrange you just how I want, and then…” She pauses for a second to give me a confident, sexy smile. “I’m going to do just what I want with you, so don’t move unless I tell you to.”

A soft gust of her magic presses me back into a wooden chair softened with cushioned velvet. She stops by one of the chaise lounges, her fingers trailing over the small pillows on it, and doesn’t even look over at me as she says, “Your leg.”

I’m trying to work out what she means when she finally picks out a pillow and slides her finger over the silk brocade pattern before it disappears. A second later it reappears at my feet and I understand.

I relax back into the chair, letting my butt slide to the edge of the cushion before lifting my leg and positioning it so it hangs over the arm of my chair.

I put one arm behind my head and wrap a hand around my cock, which might as well be made of stone by this point.

The last thing I see before my eyelids close is LeLe’s clothes falling away as she walks over to me.

The air shifts when she stops in front of me and every single nerve in my body is focused on my wife, the anticipation of what she is going to do next burning inside me like a breath I can’t exhale.

Then her hand is on my splayed leg, pushing it open wider.

Maybe it’s my horny imagination, maybe it’s the magic thick in the air around us, but I swear I can feel the heat coming off her full, pillowy tits on my cheeks as she leans over me. It’s taking everything I have to stay still with my eyes closed so she can arrange me just the way she wants.

Then she’s gone, standing close enough that even with my eyes closed I can feel her presence, but too far away for me to feel the heat from her body or smell the sweet scent of her arousal.

The loss has me wanting to squirm in my seat, open my eyes, search to the ends of the earth for her—my muscles tense, but I manage—just barely—to be still.

“Oh, Erik,” she says, her sexy, teasing tone tempting my resolve. “You’re very good for being so bad, Erik.”

“You could say I’m properly motivated not to move.” Even though staying like this just might kill me.

“But for how long before you break?”

“I could stay forever for you.” Lie? Me? Yeah, it’s kind of what I was raised to do.

“Pretty to think so,” LeLe says, “but let’s test that theory.”

The magic crackles the air between us as I fight to keep my eyes closed even as I feel the strands of her red hair brush against my inner thigh, meaning she’s settled down between my legs.

Is she kneeling on the pillow? Is she reaching down to stroke that swollen wet clit of hers?

Is she tweaking her nipples, pleasuring herself, as the torture of not being able to watch her makes a bead of the pre-cum pooling on the tip of my aching cock slide down the shaft?

“Now that’s a sight I’m going to remember when this is all over,” she says, her voice thick with desire. “I could just lick that right up.”

I’m all for that, but LeLe has other plans.

The hard edge of her fingernails press against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh close enough to my balls to send a breath-catching shock of pleasure straight through my whole body like a lightning bolt of fuck-yeah.

I let out a gasp of surprise half a second before her soft mouth comes down on that very spot and my shock turns into a harsh groan of barely controlled want.

Forget just moving my leg or twitching my shoulder, I’m literal heartbeats away from breaking.

I’m already mentally throwing her over my shoulder and taking her to one of the beds so I can taste just how wet she is and make her as desperate as she’s making me when she cups my balls.

All sense of time, place, and self fade away as she squeezes and rolls them, all while resting her cheek against my inner thigh so close to the action that her breath is tickling my dick.

There’s a fine line between letting go in the moment and losing your fucking mind, and I’m right there. My grip on the base of my cock is so tight at this point that under normal circumstances I’d be worried about doing damage. But these aren’t normal circumstances.

She may not realize it, but my LeLe put a spell on me in Vegas that’s only grown in strength since then. And fool that I am, I don’t want to counter it or fight against it. All I want is to go where she’s taking us while pretending tonight will never end—that’s my Nullam Inhibitionis.