Page 7 of Zero Happily Ever Afters (Branches of Past and Future #4)

I spent an hour channeling my branch magic in the confines of my bedroom. Charlie chirped and cried and stuck his paws under the door for about ten minutes before finally giving up. I’d make time for him after I properly established a connection to my manifestation so our memories would sync up. Normally, drawing upon the observations of what my manifestation had seen didn’t require so much effort. But normally, I didn’t hurl a manifestation halfway across the country, so here I sat in my bedroom, on my floor, crisscrossed with my eyes shut in a meditative state.

Over the years, I’d learned lots of techniques from telepaths, from psychics. Things that helped when I first inherited my branch. And if I was being truthful, I’d become lax in these meditative trainings, traditions, since I was no longer a rookie witch. I shrugged off a lot of the suggestions as advice meant for a novice, an inexperienced fool with no understanding of their magic. It turned out I might’ve fit more in those categories than I cared to admit.

Slowly, patiently, I crawled along the thread of the tether that connected me to the manifestation I’d summoned. I wanted to see what he’d seen, to understand how Milo’s mission went, and then reach out to him so we could discuss how truly invasive my branch had become. Seriously, poor baby couldn’t even catch a break from my telepathy, no matter how far he went for work.

“This is taking so long.” I ground my teeth, growing agitated instead of staying in a state of calm.

Calm took work. Calm was fucking annoying. But I needed my emotional state level if I wanted to follow the thread and reach my manifestation. It was too far to simply reel back and retrieve the intel, the memories. I mean, it wasn’t. I kept a solid hook in my manifestation to ensure none would ever disappear to their own accord like the unruly one who’d tried to kill me for his own happy ending. And yes, I believed my personas weren’t out for me…mostly. It was a weird sensation to hold trust and deceit in equal measure.

But if I reeled my manifestation into my mind, that’d leave my telepathy attached to Milo without an anchor for the magic, which would put me right back to step one, where my head felt like it was going to explode into a million pieces.

Carefully and calmly, I focused the tether until my connection with the manifestation had been established. Suddenly, memories collided together, filling in the gaps of what I’d missed from Milo’s trip.

Images flashed like a collage of photo stills, filling the darkness of my mind with memories that became mine.

An exhausting flight. Arriving in California.

Meeting Global Gladiatrix.

Onlookers, adoring fans, and everyone captivated by her gracefulness.

Meeting Enchanter Wadsworth.

Elation met with devastation. Proof to never meet your idols.

A town of over twelve hundred dead.

Oceanic Collapse.

An arcane branch that merged together primal, cosmic, and psychic energy to drown a person inside their own mind.

The True Witch who eluded the Global Guild, arguably the most powerful organization in the world.

A drowning boy hidden in a blue box meant to shield him from a terrible ocean that sought to kill him.

Fire. Fire. Fire.

So many flames cast by my mind, my telepathy, my desire to ease the pain in Milo’s heart.

Saved. I saved Benjamin Oxland and helped Enchanter Evergreen establish a connection to The True Witch, where he’d inform the others and find a way to stop her before she slaughtered anyone else.

I sat with the knowledge in a meditative state, hovering in the shadows of the tether that united myself and my manifestation. While I worked to sift through the memories, my other half floated behind Milo as he walked to the bedroom of an abandoned home that the Global Guild had commandeered during their investigation. Milo lay in the bed, stomach queasy with trepidation as he eyed the family photos. He considered asking to switch rooms but didn’t want to burden the medical staff already making do with the living room as their sleeping quarters, and he didn’t want to appear weak-willed in front of two of the highest-ranked enchanters.

Moving closer, I caressed his face, sending literal positive vibes as I wanted to assuage the looming dread that threatened to steal even a minute of sleep from him.

Milo began to undress, sliding off his slacks and folding them, then unbuttoning his dress shirt and tossing it. Before he removed his undershirt, he scrunched his face in thoughtful musings. With a smile, Milo pulled out his phone and texted me. The buzz didn’t hit my pocket since I’d silenced it, but I fished out my phone and hit the dial-out button. All without opening my eyes. Milo would be proud of my little tech-savvy self who’d made him the only speed dial in my phone.

“Well damn, you must be desperate to explain yourself.” Milo’s smile twisted into a minxy grin.

I read his phone, seeing the question.

“I wasn’t stalking you,” I said into the phone, hearing the echo of my voice as I spoke to him in my bedroom while hovering in front of him in the room he slept inside.

“Consider me flattered.” Milo let out a breathy chuckle, something that made his voice just scratchy enough to arouse me.

“It’s not what you think.”

“No?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. “So you’re not stretching your telepathy halfway across the world right now to see me?”

“You’re not halfway across the world,” I corrected.

“Might as well be. Admit it.” He rubbed his hand up and down his torso, flashing his stomach a bit more each time his pinky caught onto the fabric of his shirt and yanked it up some. “You miss me.”

“I’m not there, well I am, but it’s not me.”

Milo cocked his head.

“Well, it is me.” I huffed, then proceeded to explain everything I’d learned recently about my telepathy.

How I couldn’t control it, how my branch had always been too powerful for me, how pieces had been broken off years ago and dropped into the abyss of my subconscious. I explained what happened when I slipped into my subconscious, how I’d met some of my personas, and how it turned out my manifestation who went wild was nothing more than an unruly persona that dreamed of being more. More than a persona. More than a manifestation. More than me.

“Basically, I am trying to control my magic and really don’t mean to interfere, but you know…” I cleared my throat. “How’s that kid doing?”

“Better. Futures are looking bright, chaotic, full of all types of options, it’d seem.” Milo nodded, pensive and lost in the visions of infinite possibilities, then smirked, minxy and full of snark. “And I’m okay with you interfering, as per usual. It’s not my favorite thing, but I’ve grown used to the fact my boyfriend is quite possibly the most obsessive man on the planet.”

I scoffed. “Untrue.”

“And when someone says to him that something isn’t possible, he’s gotta prove them wrong.”

“That’s an exaggeration. This was a mitigating circumstance.”

“And the void vision?”

I frowned. “Also, a random outlier.”

“And when I went to face the devil of Chicago after telling you not to interfere?”

“Okay, three random occurrences do not make a pattern.”

Milo squinted. “That’s how patterns work. Literally. Once is a fluke. Twice is a coincidence. Three times is a pattern. Actually, two times is a pattern, but people just aren’t ready to admit it, kind of like how you’re not willing to admit you’re toxically obsessive. But in a super-hot way. Especially when it comes to me.”

I practically growled at his rambling explanation. “There are thousands of times I haven’t interfered with something because I don’t obsess over things.”

“Name three.”

I went to speak, went to formulate an answer, but my brain turned to mush. “You’re an asshole.”

“You are what you eat.” Milo grinned, waiting for my breathing to ease. Even on the phone with only my voice, Milo quickly registered my feelings, my mood, and he wanted to ease my temperament before continuing. “Hmmm, so you didn’t realize your personas and manifestations weren’t the same thing?”

“No,” I said very seriously, releasing my slight aggravation. “I don’t exactly spend a lot of time with personas, mine or others. Mostly, they dwell in the subconscious, and no one wants to dive in there.”

Occasionally, personas, images that folks painted for themselves, would appear on their surface thoughts, but they usually quickly faded away. We rarely spend enough time daydreaming about our ideal selves. The more time someone spent wondering who they could’ve been, the more depression seemed to cloud their thoughts.

“Do I have any personas?” Milo asked, truly engrossed by the topic, the idea his imagination and subconscious had made even more enchanting versions of himself.

“Yes. They’re quite awesome and possibly the only reason I tolerate you.” I smirked, just enough to savor the bubble I burst.

“Liar.” Milo ran his hand down his stomach and slowly slid it under the elastic of his boxers. “I can think of at least one real reason you tolerate me.”

The cockiness in his voice as he stroked his dick sent a shudder coursing through my body. I sucked my teeth, having a full view above him as he played with himself, hearing an echo of his breathy satisfaction from the room I floated in as a psychic manifestation and through the phone where his voice held this rhythmic allure that strengthened my concentration.

The pull I had for Milo was so strong, I’d forgotten my breathing in this meditative state. I’d forgotten to count, to focus, yet I still maintained a solid foothold in both spaces.

“I can’t hold this for long,” I said, explaining how I merely meant to check my memories connected to the manifestation.

“That psychic projection of yourself keeps you grounded, keeps you from breaking as your telepathy stretches out to reach me?”

“Yes.” I bit back a panting breath as Milo stroked himself faster, enticing me with his voice, with the warmth that spread across his skin, with the desire dancing on the surface of his mind.

“And you can see me clearly?” The song danced on his surface thoughts, clouds parting as his sunshine vision filled my sight.

“Yes.” I stared through my manifestation’s eyes, keeping mine firmly closed so that the dual sensation of viewing my bedroom walls didn’t splinter my hold.

“Well, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” Milo teased me, tugging the elastic of his boxers to reveal his left hip fully but keeping the bulge of his cock tucked beneath the fabric. “I am curious, though…”

“About?” The seconds of silence felt infinitely long, like I’d never get an answer from those beautiful lips curled in the coyest smile a boy could make.

“Wanna test how long you’ll last?”

“Excuse me?”

“Maintaining that tether.” Milo playfully bit his lip, then brought his hand to his mouth, licking his palm and slathering it in spit in one quick motion before bringing his hand down to his crotch and playing with the head of his dick. “I mean, phone sex is hot. Facetime sex is hotter. But psychic sex has got to be the fucking hawtest.”

I descended toward the bed, where Milo slid off his boxers. I barely gave him a chance to untangle them from his ankles before I landed on his hips, straddling him in the guise of a ghost. My psychic energy took form, filling him with the sensation of me. My body. My touch. My desire.

As he gained his bearings, I kissed him. Gently at first, light pecks across his chest, his arms, his stomach, his neck. Everywhere. I tasted him on my lips and wanted more. Craving his soft skin, his firm muscles. On the floor of my bedroom, I melted away and became engulfed by the scent of Milo, by his body heat, by my need to feel him entirely.

Milo quivered, enthralled by the kisses I left across his skin, but he couldn’t find me, couldn’t feel me more than the fleeting sensation here and then there, but he needed me everywhere. He wanted to grab my hair, yank it upward, and pull me into a kiss. I nearly leapt forward, granting that wish, offering him the kiss he desired, the pleasure, but there was something else he craved more.

I wrapped my lips around the tip of his cock, teasing and tasting every nerve with my tongue. Eagerly, I swallowed more, taking Milo’s throbbing dick deep into my throat. Goddamn, I realized even as a projection, reality sank in quickly, and I gagged as I took in Milo all the way to the base far too fast. His moan, though. Fuck. He sounded delirious with pleasure as my throat constricted around his cock, and I struggled to breathe, gagging as I moved up and down his shaft.

“Fuck,” Milo muttered, thrusting his hips.

He pumped slowly at first, relishing the sound of my choking breaths over the phone. When had that happened? I lost myself in his delight, in the faster motion of his hips as he thrust more quickly. His mind filled the empty air that he face fucked with my image. My teary eyes. My stretched jaw. My body pressed to his hips, grabbing hold as he pounded upward again and again.

But Milo wasn’t fucking the air. It was me, my energy, my manifestation, my psychic extension. I twisted the magic that danced around us, linking to his frequency as I’d done so many times before. Soon, Milo caught sight of the invisible projection; he saw the illusion of my image.

This only further enticed him as he gripped a handful of hair and pumped into my mouth faster and harder, keeping a steady grip on my head with one hand wrapped under my jaw as he used my face and throat to bring himself closer and closer to cumming.

As I choked on the phone, Milo groaned with satisfied authority, and I knew it was my longing that sent these sensations. I loved to please him, I loved to feel his passion, and I loved the feeling of gagging on his beautiful cock.

I savored every second, sucking in air when I could but mainly sucking Milo off. He kept a steady pace of fucking my face, bringing himself closer to a climax, and while every part of me wanted to give him that satisfying release, feel his body quake and collapse deeper into the mattress, I wanted to tease him more.

His bright blue eyes shot open when my image vanished. No longer could he see me on his hips, cock in my mouth. He couldn’t feel me either, the weight of my body pressed against his. I was there, though, a phantom of desire.

“Dorian?” He breathed heavily into the phone, gripping his hard cock. “Guess we lost the connection right when I was about to—”

I grabbed his hips, startling and arousing him, then flipped him onto his stomach. This surprised and confused Milo, who was fully prepared to slip his dick back in my mouth a moment ago.

“Not yet,” I muttered into the phone, fueled by a surge of assertive longing.

Milo lay still, patient, and kept the phone close to his ear, listening to the spike of desire that’d shifted my mood. No longer had I linked us to serve his needs, but instead to command him to please my own. Moving down his body, my projection kissed his lower back before licking his crack.

I stared at his beautiful bubble butt, then slapped his left cheek.

“Oh.” Milo chuckled. “Feisty.”

“I’ll show you feisty,” I whispered, voice deep and gruff, so much so it carried a weight of authority that made Milo arch his back.

I slapped his ass a second time and then bit his other cheek so he wouldn’t feel I favored either. I loved them both. Milo bent his left leg, moving it closer to his torso and spreading his cheeks. I kissed him, working my way to his hole, licking with long, lavish strokes that bathed Milo in a sensation of pure warmth. His teeth chattered as my tongue worked him over. His muscles tensed when I poked my tongue in his hole.

“Relax,” I said into the phone.

The ease and ecstasy that released from Milo at the sound of my voice, my gentle order, only further fueled me. Using my tongue, I loosened and lubed Milo, listening intently to every hitched breath that came through the phone.

I supposed the sensation of my spit on his hole was purely psychic. It was as if we were inside his head, me weaving and controlling reality—an easy feat inside the mind of another—but we weren’t inside his mind. It didn’t matter; I had the power to shape everything he experienced. Each of his senses belonged to me.

“You’re mine tonight.”

Milo panted into the phone.

“Say it,” I whispered into the phone, echoing my words inside his mind.

“I’m yours.” He clenched his teeth. “Do what you want with me.”

Milo sank into the mattress, completely lost in the pleasure. Each kiss, each tickle with my tongue, each soft breath was practiced and trained and meant to elicit more passion. Every second I spent rimming Milo only further enticed him.

I got hard listening to Milo moan, feeling him quiver and shake. I rose up, moving over Milo where I kept his ass spread as I slowly entered him. It wasn’t skin-to-skin, not really, but the projection and imagery and fantasy of our bodies entwined helped strengthen my manifested hold over Milo.

Each thrust was deliberate and meant to push Milo closer to the edge. Milo hadn’t lost a fraction of his erection from when he started with gentle kisses, turned into gagging deep-throating, and finished with a lathering rim job. Now, I held his hips in place as I pounded him, sensing the throbbing of his dick that rubbed against the sheets.

“Hold on,” Milo groaned.

“Relax,” I said into the phone despite being incapable of listening to my own words.

Milo whimpered and bit his lip when he finally came, unable to contain himself another second. I slowed my pace, moving one hand up his spine as he’d started to hunch, moving away from me as his body convulsed and twitched. I pulled him back into position.

“You’re not going anywhere yet.” The deep authority in my lowered voice sent an excited shiver through Milo’s body. “What are you?”

“Yours.”

Satisfied with his response, I took my hand to jerk his cock, savoring the pleased exhales Milo let out as I stroked the last sticky pearls.

Since Milo had cum a moment ago, his body quivered, turning into complete and total putty for me to play with. He wanted me to finish, to use him however I sought to achieve satisfaction. Part of me wanted to ram my dick in hard and fuck him fast and rough until I exploded. I started to, taking swift, brutal thrusts that made Milo bite his pillow as his eyes teared up. I grabbed his blond hair with both hands and yanked his head back, pounding into him as he lay there, completely obedient to my desires. The slap of skin became rhythmic, intoxicating.

I slowed, taking long, easy strokes. This allowed Milo’s breathing to ease as he gained his bearings on the psychic cock that rammed him relentlessly. Kissing his nape, I caressed his shoulders, running my hands along his slick skin until I got to his lower back. I forced him into a deeper arch, adjusted his positioning, and reached around to jerk his flaccid dick.

“I’m not done with you, Enchanter Evergreen.” I bit his earlobe, relishing the moan he released as I stroked him hard with each gentle thrust. I wanted him hard again; I wanted him throbbing like me. I wanted him to quake and beg and plead for me to cum, for him to reach the edge of his release and beg for more. His longing strengthened my psychic grip, allowing me complete and total control. “You’re mine tonight.”

“Yes.” Milo moaned.

I gripped his jaw and turned him to face me, just enough so he could see me in the corner of his eye, the vision of my authority. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

I took long, slow thrusts because anything more and I’d have finished immediately. I didn’t want that. I wanted to enjoy each second with Milo, wanted to get him off again, feel his pleasure, and watch the world fade away entirely for both of us.

Milo remained obedient to my direction as I fucked him, but it was me who served. I served Milo in every sexual fantasy, finding his bliss the most satisfying thing. Even controlling him now, shoving his face into the pillow while ordering him to stroke his dick as I moved faster, pounding him out and showing no mercy on his beautiful ass once again, I did it because I desired the hitch in his breath, the shudder in his body, the pleasure of his panting. Milo’s mind whirled round and round, craving more from me, more authority, more control, more, more, more.

And I gave it to him. Rough.

I winced as my telepathy weakened, the bridge holding my mind together from two separate entities to one stretched across the nation. I didn’t surrender yet. Not this close. I wanted to drag out Milo’s second orgasm, wanted to watch him whimper when brought to the edge of his climax only to wait and serve my dick. But I didn’t want to lose my hold mid fuck either.

Grabbing Milo by the back of his neck, I held him in place and took quick, sudden thrusts until I felt him about to cum, and then I buried myself deep in his ass and groaned. I sucked in a shaky breath as heat spread across my entire body. Our minds and magics collided and twisted together right as we came, and I felt his relief as he busted.

I clutched him tighter, holding onto him and the sensation, but as I exhaled, I came onto my chest, wishing it were inside Milo instead, I felt the tether connecting us snap and break.

All I had was Milo’s haggard breaths into the phone, which kept us connected. “Damn, that was fucking amazing.”

“Emphasis on the fucking,” I said into the phone.

I heard him scrambling to retrieve his discarded device that’d slipped somewhere under the covers. “We have to do that again.”

“Tonight?” I asked, barely able to hear my annoying neighbors after unleashing that much magic.

“No, I can wait a few days. A few weeks even.” Milo rarely wanted to bottom, but when with me, he wanted to experience it all and explored it more frequently. “My ass could use the time to recover.”

I chuckled. “I’ll kiss it and make it all better.”

Milo’s grin hit so strong that even without my connection to see it, I felt it. I felt his happiness. We chatted until we dozed off, unsure who fell asleep first, but I knew even a world away that Milo had drifted into a happy dream dancing in his mind.

His peace made sleep easy for me.