Page 11 of Wooing the Wiccan (Elf Magic #1)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jared

Kissing Raeulfr is like eating gourmet ice cream at the beach with your friends on a scorching hot day.

It’s like being wrapped in a blanket in front of the fire with your cat and a great book.

It’s like being on a roller coaster, screaming and laughing and never wanting the ride to end; like the first time I used magic and understood the real beauty of the world.

It feels like the best decision I’ve ever made.

We stand there beside the counter in my kitchen and kiss until I’m dizzy, until my lips start to feel tender and it seems like I’ll never get enough of how he feels against me. Until Margie yowls and a sizzling sound tells me the soup’s boiled over.

Shit.

We break apart, and I hurry to turn off the burner before it makes too much mess.

Behind me, Raeulfr is telling Marge she’s an excellent alarm cat, and my mouth curves into a smile.

He’s interesting and good-looking, open to my religion, gets along with my cat, and kisses like a dream.

I’ve hit the motherfucking jackpot. Pressing my palms to suddenly hot cheeks—right where his were before—I ask myself what I’m waiting for.

So what if we’ve known each other less than two weeks?

I’ve hooked up with guys I’ve known less than two minutes—and I knew a hell of a lot less about them than I do Raeulfr.

Taking a breath to center myself, I drop my hands and turn around. Raeulfr is petting Marge, a goofy little smile on his face that I know isn’t there because my cat’s adorable. That smile’s all for me—and likely matches the one I’m wearing.

“So, uh… how hungry would you say you are?”

He turns his head toward me. “Starving.”

Oh. My face must fall, because he adds, “Oh, you meant for soup. That can wait for later.” His smile turns wicked, sending a delicious shiver up my spine. “I’m ravenous for something else right now.”

“Me too,” I say through a suddenly dry throat. I don’t know why I’m nervous. It’s just sex. Just because my inner romantic thinks Raeulfr might be the one doesn’t mean I should be nervous.

I turn back to the stove and put the lid on the soup pot, then cross the kitchen and take Raeulfr’s hand. “Come on. I know what will satisfy both our appetites.”

He steals another kiss before letting me tug him toward the door. Halfway there, I stop and go back for Marge. “If I leave her in here, she’ll go for the soup pot,” I explain. Letting my cat burn herself isn’t on my bingo card, ever.

“I’ll close the door,” he promises, following me out, and sure enough, I hear the snick of the latch catching. “Can she open doors? I know some cats can.”

I shake my head as I let her down on the couch.

She glares, not happy about being moved, but settles down for a nap.

“No, she hasn’t mastered that yet. I don’t close interior doors much, so she doesn’t get a lot of chances to practice.

” Are we seriously talking about Marge right now?

I need to find a way to rekindle the mood, fast.

I pull my shirt over my head.

Raeulfr’s eyes drop first to where my amethyst rests against my breastbone, then lower, widening as they take me in. I’m not ripped or anything—I’m a forty-two-year-old kindergarten teacher who prefers gardening to the gym—but I take care of myself, and Raeulfr clearly appreciates that.

He closes the distance between us. “You said something about satisfying me?”

“Right this way.”

I was hoping tonight would go this way, so I changed the sheets and tidied up my bedroom.

I even left a bedside lamp on, so the room looks inviting and we don’t need to use the mood-killing overhead light.

I’m already half-naked, so once I’ve closed the door to keep Marge out, I motion toward Raeulfr’s chest. “You’ve got some catching up to do. ”

He doesn’t need further prompting, and by the time I get my pants and socks off, he’s not far behind. “Fast,” I murmur, sinking to my knees as his pants drop to the floor, but deliberately looking up at him and nowhere else.

“It’s amazing what a man can do with the right motivation.” His eyes are locked on my face, the hunger in them so flattering… and inspiring.

I lower my gaze at last, and I’m not disappointed.

His cock is a generous handful, flushed dark red and already hard, his balls drawn up tight.

I lean in and bury my face in the crease of his thigh, inhaling the musky scent of him, then rubbing my cheek against the hard length of his dick.

His hands come to rest on my head, fingers twining into my hair but not grabbing.

“Are you going to tease me, then?” he asks, his voice husky.

“Hmm. Maybe.” I dart my tongue out to nudge against his left ball, and he inhales sharply, so I do it again, following up with a proper lick, then suck it into my mouth. The angle is awkward, but the way his thigh muscles go rock-solid against me makes it worth repeating with the right one.

When I let it go, he draws in a shuddering breath.

It releases in a rush when I wrap my lips around the head of his cock, and he says something in a language I don’t recognize, the words strangled.

I don’t need to understand them to know they’re words of tortured pleasure, and it gives me a little rush of power—and happiness.

I want to pleasure Raeulfr. To make him feel like a king, worshiped by me.

My tongue probes gently around the head of his dick, searching for the spot that finally makes his hands tighten in my hair, and when I find it, I torment it, teasing the little bundle of nerves until his breathing is ragged.

Pulling off, I grin up at him. “Having fun?”

“Your mouth should be illegal,” he pants, and I laugh, then open wide and take as much of him as I can manage into my mouth, winning a yell from him.

I alternate using my tongue and lightly sucking, occasionally drawing back so cool air can sensitize his wet skin, and when his hips make an aborted thrusting motion, I know it’s only rigid self-control that’s stopping his orgasm.

So I relax my throat and take him as deep as I can, then whisper my fingers in a featherlight stroke over his scrotum.

Every muscle in his body locks up, and he comes, his rough cry ringing in my ears like music.

When he finally stumbles back, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and?—

—land on the bed. Stunned, I gape at him as he crawls over me. Who knew he had that kind of strength?

Who knew I’d find it so hot?

“You’re a miracle,” he growls, then plunders my mouth with the kind of kiss I never thought I wanted. I was wrong.

It ends before I’m ready, but my protests dies when Raeulfr slides down my body and sucks my neglected dick into his mouth. I’m so stimulated from teasing him that it takes next to nothing before I’m seeing stars.

And then it’s his turn to worship me.

I swear, I’m bouncing as I enter my classroom the next morning, and my mouth is stretched into the stupidest smile ever—it has been ever since I woke up tangled with Raeulfr.

Not even the strange guy on my street who gave me the weirdest look as Raeulfr and I left my place could kill my smile.

I offered to give Raeulfr a lift home, but he said he needed a walk to burn off his excess sex energy from this morning’s mutual blowjobs.

I get it—I’m so wired right now, and sure, part of that is from the incredible sex, which always gives me a boost, but the rest is giddy, goopy feelings.

If feelings could be converted to electricity, I’d never have to pay another power bill just based on this morning.

I’ve got half an hour to wind down a bit before my students?—

“Well, well. Someone’s in a very good mood for a Monday.”

Er. I turn toward the doorway between the kindergarten classrooms, where Gretchen is standing with a big smirk.

“New week,” I offer. “Lots to be excited about.”

She laughs as she comes toward me. “You might be the most positive, chill person I know, but that would be pushing things even for you. No, all this ”—she waves up and down toward me, encapsulating my whole being in the gesture—“is to do with that guy you’ve been ‘kinda seeing.’”

“I can practically hear the air quotes,” I say dryly.

“Thanks, it’s a gift. Now spill. I want to hear everything.”

I should protest, but I really want to talk to someone about Raeulfr. A guy deserves the chance to gush when he maybe meets the one .

“He came over last night for the new moon ritual—did I tell you he’s pagan?”

“No, you did not .” She makes an excited face. “That’s great! You won’t have to worry about whether he’s going to be judgy about it.”

“He’s definitely not judgy about it. I already knew he wouldn’t be, but he was so great—he’s not Wiccan, so he had some questions, and he was interested and respectful and…” I trail off with a happy sigh. “Everything I could have hoped for.”

Gretchen puts a hand over her heart. “Aww. I’m so happy for you. I can’t remember the last time I saw you all ditzy with feelings like this.”

“I can’t remember the last time I felt it,” I admit. “He’s amazing.”

My friend raises a brow. “And did this amazing man go home after the ritual, or did you maybe have a different kind of ‘ritual’?” This time she actually does make air quotes, and a laugh escapes me at how ridiculous she is.

“Maybe we did.”

I’d be worried about her squeal rupturing my eardrums, except I’m too busy being worried about whether the death grip she now has on my arm is going to leave bruises. “Yes! Yes, I knew it! Tell me every detail. Was it good? It had to be, or you wouldn’t be smiling like that.”

Her excitement validates mine, and I let my grin take over my face again. “It was good.” I pause while she bounces on her toes, then add, “Both times.”

“Twice?!” she shrieks.

“And again this morning,” I confirm, and she throws her arms around me in a jumpy-dancey-hug that I enthusiastically return.

“What the heck is happening in here?” a voice asks, and we break apart as Kaelynn, who teaches second grade, walks in from the hall. “Are we having a party?”

Not for the first time, I marvel at her timing. She always seems to know when we’re talking about something fun. Sure, Gretchen’s not being quiet, but Kaelynn’s classroom is at the other end of the hall, and Gretch wasn’t that loud. If she was, we’d have four more teachers in here too.

“Jared’s got a new man!” Gretchen declares gleefully. “One who makes him happy! Look at his face!”

Kaelynn studies me, and my cheeks get hot under her scrutiny. “We’ve just started seeing each other,” I mumble.

“They had sex last night, and today he’s all…” Gretch makes that up-and-down gesture again.

“I see it,” Kaelynn says, nodding. “That’s fantastic, Jared! Tell us about him. What’s his name?”

“Raeulfr,” I say, and Kaelynn’s mouth drops open.

“Say again?” Gretchen demands. “You know I’m so bad with non-English names.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not saying it right either,” I confess, then walk her through the pronunciation the way Raeulfr did for me. “I’ll get better at it.”

“You’re doing just fine, I’m sure,” Kaelynn assures me, a suppressed kind of excitement in her voice. “Come on, tell us more! What does he look like? Do you have pictures?”

I shake my head. “No pictures, but he’s tall, with long dark-blond hair that’s so beautiful.

I swear, he’s either got the world’s best hair genes or he spends a fortune on haircare.

And he’s got a beard—it’s not long, just kind of hugs his jaw—but it’s so soft and…

” I bite my lip, embarrassed. “Crap, I’m gushing over his beard . I’ve got it so bad.”

“You really do,” Gretchen agrees. “It’s awesome.”

“Definitely a good look for you,” Kaelynn adds. “So… what now? When are you seeing him again?”

“Wednesday night, but he said he’d call me tonight… and he’s already texted me twice since I said bye forty minutes ago. I think he’s into me just as much as I am him.”

Kaelynn’s grin is oddly jubilant. “It really sounds like he is.”