Page 28 of Bedeviled

“You know,” I say casually, “you were much easier to deal with when there was a bond keeping you in line.”

I feel another grin at my back.

“Fine, little witch,” he says, “how about I simply convince you to skip?” He runs his hand down my torso until he’s cupping my sex, his middle finger dipping in.

To my mortification, I’m already soaked.

I mean to say no, but all that comes out is a choked moan.

He huffs out a laugh, withdrawing his hand. Before I can say anything more, he moves down my body, trailing kisses along my spine.

“I’ll let you go,” he breathes. “But before I do, I will make it worth your while to linger for a bit, my sweet, devious witch.”

This is where I make a stand and insist I attend to my studies. But his mouth! Goddess his mouth. It’s hot on my skin as it skims from the base of my spine, then over my hip.

Memnon gently rolls me onto my back, and I let him, far too eager about his plans to rush off.

I cannot shake how destabilized I still am by all of the things Memnon got me to feel and say last night. I’m even more unnerved that I want more of it. Sex with emotions—all of them. How wickedly perverse to indulge in this.

I look down the line of my torso. Memnon has moved back between my legs, his light brown body on glorious display. Naked Memnon lifts my hips, drawing my core close to him.

“This poor, tormented pussy,” he says. “Last night was a lot. I should probably give it a kiss to make it feel better.”

He draws me to him, as though meaning to do just that.

I think about the rounds of sex we had throughout the night and how I haven’t showered.

“Memnon—” I protest.

If you say what I’m doing is dirty, like I fucking care, I won’t stop eating you out until you’ve come at least three times on my tongue. Until my lips have scoured every last inch of you.

I swallow my words but do release a wave of magic that cleans me.

Memnon’s mouth touches the juncture between my thighs so softly that last night’s soreness is eclipsed by the delicate pleasure he pulls from me.

He licks up my slit, his touch remaining featherlight. Soon his magic joins in, working me softly until I’m rocking against him, needing more.

He answers my unspoken demand, his body moving up mine.

He slides into me without any pretense, and though I am a little sore, I sigh with satisfaction at how perfect he feels inside me. This is the sentimental morning sex that I imagine people in stable relationships have. Familiar. Gentle. Lazy in the most decadent way.

Today, as the morning sun shines into this small house and limns our forms, I find I’m not nearly as shy about meeting Memnon’s gaze—meeting it and holding it. And it’s me who drags his mouth down to my own and demands a kiss, and me who pulls him closer because though the sex itself is amazing, I simply want to get closer to him.

Love is definitely a drug that’s going to screw me over once I get properly addicted to it.

And I’m getting addicted fast.

CHAPTER 6

By the time I get to Henbane, the sun is high in the sky. The coven grounds, however, remain sparse.

Normally the grounds are overrun with witches chatting and practicing spells. There are women on brooms streaking across the sky or else familiars moving about. At the very least, there’s usually a few freshly sprouted plants littering the grass.

Today there are only a couple lonely clusters of witches walking to and from the stone buildings in the distance. But it’s more than the lack of witches on campus grounds. The air carries a desolate feel. Several students here have died since the semester began, and many more were trafficked. Henbane is showing the strain of all that terror.

I head up the pathway to my residence hall, dressed once more in my regular clothes. I pass the stone lamassu—the threshold guardians that have the head of a woman, the wings of an eagle, and the body of a lion. I’m fond of the stone sculptures, just as I am of the Medusa door knocker who sometimes speaks with me as she does now.

“Disquiet in the abode,” the knocker says. “Many witches lick festering wounds. The beasts still sleep, but they are hungry.”