Page 6 of Spice (Unhinged Holidays #1)

Four

Ezra

I take Willow’s hand and lead her toward the altar. It’s draped in a soft, velvet blanket in a deep burgundy hue. As we approach, the runes and sigils on her skin glow and fade in time with her rapid pulse.

In time with the breaths sawing in and out of my chest.

In time with the pulsing of my cock, leaking into my pants.

In the name of all things sacred and holy, I want this woman. Even if she wasn’t the one who could help me break the curse, I’d willingly choose to spend my last day on Earth with her.

Candles blaze around us, their light flickering and reflecting off Willow’s bare skin as I help her lie down on the altar.

The runes and sigils I’ve drawn glow softly, casting coloured light around the room.

The magic in the air is thick and heavy, like a living thing.

It clings to every surface, suffuses the air, wraps around us.

I move to the end of the table, my voice low as I start to chant quietly.

The words are ancient, their power humming through my veins and igniting the sigils and runes as I gently push Willow’s thighs apart.

My hands linger on her skin, marveling at its softness.

She’s beautiful, her body laid out before me like an offering.

Her pussy is pink and wet in the candlelight, glistening with how much she wants me.

My mouth waters at the thought of tasting her.

Soon.

The sight of her, open and aroused, sends a surge of possessive heat through me.

My cock throbs, aching to be inside her, to feel her magic wrap around me.

But I take my time, using more of the elixir to trace runes on her inner thighs, letting the magic build.

The air is thick with it, every breath drawing more power into our lungs, into our bodies.

Willow’s pretty cunt drips in front of me, her clit gorgeously swollen.

Her eyes are wide, her breath coming in quick gasps.

I can see the mix of fear giving way to lust in her gaze, the uncertainty melting to trust. It’s a heady combination, one that makes my heart pound and my magic surge.

I want to consume her, to be consumed by her.

To lose myself in her magic, her body, her soul.

But right now, I need to focus. Once I know that I’m going to live, I can get lost in her.

The energy in the room intensifies, the candles burning brighter, the shadows growing darker.

The magic is alive, responding to every glide of my skin over hers, every shakily exhaled breath.

It’s wild and unpredictable, but the runes and sigils hold it in check, preventing it from causing the chaos it seeks.

I lean down, my mouth only inches from her pretty pussy. I can smell her arousal, sweet and intoxicating. Addictive. I want to taste her, to feel her come apart against my mouth. But first, I need to draw out her magic. It’s the first real step in this ritual.

I start to chant again, my voice low and commanding. The magic responds, the runes glowing brighter, the air growing thicker. Willow’s body arches, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

“What the fuck?” she pants, her eyes meeting mine.

“You’re not even touching me! How…how are you…

oh, fuck…” She moans as her head falls back to altar.

“I don’t care. Just don’t stop. It’s like…

it’s like the air is sucking on my clit.

Oh, shit!” Her hips buck as I continue chanting, my cock hard to the point of pain at watching my pretty witch come undone under my spell.

She’s close, so close. Her magic is wild and powerful, surging beneath her skin.

And then, with the most gorgeous moan, she comes. Her magic explodes out of her, a wave of pure power that sends the candles flickering and the shadows dancing. It’s beautiful, chaotic, intense. And it’s just the beginning.

Willow’s body arches beautifully, her skin glistening with sweat and magic as she comes down from her orgasm.

I circle the altar, my fingers trailing gently over her warm skin, drawing out a soft moan from deep within her.

Her nipples are hard, begging for attention, and I can’t resist rolling them between my fingers, pinching lightly, tugging, feeling her writhe as I play with her.

“You’re doing so well, Willow,” I say quietly. My voice echoes all the same, filled with the power of the ritual. “Your magic is incredible. I can feel it, all around me.”

I’m in full ritual mode now, my every movement slow and controlled, intensely focused on her and the magic that binds us.

The runes and sigils on her skin glow like stars, pulsing with her heartbeat, each one a testament to her awakened power.

It’s a frequency I can tune into now, a melody that sings just for me.

I reach the head of the altar and lean down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Your body is a temple, Willow. A sanctuary of power that I intend to worship.” My hands slide down her front, over her breasts and then back up again.

I continue my slow walk, circling her, dragging the tips of my fingers over her as I go.

Her skin is soft, supple, and her magic hums just beneath the surface, like a live wire.

I make my way back to the foot of the altar and trail my hands up her spread legs, higher and higher until I’m cupping her juicy little cunt. I slide my fingers up and down her pink slit, then gently circle her clit.

She gasps, her hips bucking against my hand, seeking more. I oblige, sliding two fingers inside her, feeling her tight heat clench around me.

“Ezra,” she moans, her eyes fluttering closed, her hands gripping the edges of the altar.

“That’s it, Willow,” I encourage, my thumb circling her clit as my fingers curl inside her, stroking that sweet spot. “Ride my fingers. Feel the magic. Feel me.” Her body responds beautifully, her magic surging, the runes glowing brighter. The power builds the connection between us strengthening.

I withdraw my fingers from Willow’s gorgeously tight cunt, her wetness coating my skin.

I trace the sigils on her thighs, using her own juices to activate the symbols.

She jolts as if struck by lightning, a gasp ripped from her lips.

I can see the pleasure coursing through her, her body writhing on the altar.

Her aura is shimmering, pink and gold with flecks of deep red.

It’s breathtakingly beautiful. She’s breathtakingly beautiful.

I slip my fingers back inside her, feeling her clench around me.

I withdraw them again, now tracing the runes on her hips, marking her with her own slick.

Each touch ignites the symbols, their glow intensifying, shifting from a steady light to a sparkling radiance.

They glitter like stardust, like the night sky has descended upon her skin.

I repeat the process, my fingers plunging into her dripping cunt, her wetness coating my hand.

Each time I trace the symbols, her body responds with a jolt, a buck of her hips, a moan that seems to come from the depths of her soul.

The room is filled with the scent of her, the sound of her pleasure, the sight of her body writhing under my touch.

I want to live in this moment forever.

Her clit is swollen, begging for attention. I pinch it lightly, then rub gentle circles over it. She cries out, her hands fisted in the velvet cloth covering the altar. Magic pulses through her, my own magic rising and gathering in response.

I slide my fingers inside her again, fucking her slowly, and then withdrawing to trace the symbols on her stomach, her ribs, her breasts.

Each one glitters and shines, drawing a gasp, a moan, a cry from her lips as I activate it.

Her body is my canvas, and I’m painting it with her pleasure.

Her skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

I can hear the steady, rapid beat of her heart.

I plunge my fingers back inside her, my thumb circling her clit. I can feel everything. The magic, the pleasure, the power. It’s all building, all growing, ready to explode.

And then she’s coming again, moaning, shaking. Her body arches, her magic explodes in a puff of pink glitter, and the room is filled with the sound of her orgasm. Her magic is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, the sounds she makes when she comes prettier than anything I’ve ever heard.

I continue to fuck her with my fingers, drawing out her orgasm, her magic. The runes and sigils on her skin glow brighter, their light pulsing in time with her heartbeat, their power merging with hers.

Goddess, she’s beautiful. Naked and glowing with magic, eyes glazed with pleasure. And as I watch her bask in the afterglow of her orgasm, I know I’m lost. Lost in her, to her, with her.

I pull her hips to the edge of the altar, then kneel between her trembling thighs, draping her legs over my shoulders.

I lean in, my tongue tracing the intricate patterns on her inner thighs, further activating each one with deliberate, languid strokes.

Willow shudders beneath me, her breath hitching in her throat as the magic within her responds to my touch.

The taste of her skin is intoxicating, a heady mix of salt and sweet, magic and desire. Power courses through her veins, an ancient magic now awakened and hungry. I move lower, tracing the outer lips of her pussy with my tongue, teasing her. Teasing both of us.

I lean in closer, inhaling deeply. Fucking hell, she smells incredible. Her pussy is right there, glistening and inviting, and I can’t wait to taste her.