“My turn,” I tell him.
In seconds, Jared’s lying on my bed, and my mouth bobs around his cock, lips sucking tight circles around him while my fist works from his base to the tip whenever I take a break to breathe. I love the way he moans, enraptured, helpless, his hands now tangled in my long locks, but today, it’s not what I want.
“I want to feel you inside of me,” I hiss, climbing him, sinking on top, sweet wetness splitting on his thickness.
SHE’S A POWERFUL BEING. Enchantress. Banshee. I’m trapped by her song, her smile, and now by the sexual web she weaves. And I’m never, ever going to let myself be freed from it. I don’t care if a thousand omens point in the opposite direction, she’s mine.
Chloe rides harder and harder, dress thrown off now. I reach up to unclasp her bra to watch her breasts bounce, to catch them in my hands. I sit up against the wall of her bedroom and pull her forward as she squats on me, her pussy clenched around me. My mouth finds one dark pink nipple and sucks greedily, moving from one to the other.
“I want to come inside you again,” I hiss, just telling her my desires, knowing I’ll need to avoid that. We were careless yesterday, but we can’t be again.
“God, yes. I want to feel it. I want to feel you come in me. Mark me.” Chloe’s cries are accompanied by her nails dragging down my arms.
Mark me.
I feel something bursting under my skin as I burst inside of her, and I look at the tiny white lines her nails left in my skin. They heal over with a flash of gold and swirls and squiggles of vines and leaves.
“I’m all yours,” I promise. “Wouldn’t change it for the world.”
Chloe croons in sleepy contentment as she rocks off of me, letting me catch a glimpse of a glorious, gooey pussy full of my cream, but a scary thought suddenly irks me.
I really could end things with her just with a simple word, a single denial. It doesn’t feel fair. Her heart must feel like it’s on a tightrope. I want to know how to get her off that ledge and make sure she knows she’s always safe in my love.
Hazards of Being a Banshee:
Sometimes You’re Powerless
“Oh, hey! There’s Alban. That must be his wife.”
“Harper, yep. And those little ones are their twins.”
“I have to go ask him something. Want me to pick up popcorn on the way back?”
I inhale the hot, buttery aroma that sings to me on the cool spring night. “Nah. I can’t be munching on buttery popcorn when I’m selling. I might get stuff dirty.” I gesture to the rack of clothes and bedding I have in my “stall” area, along with a cheap bookcase and a folding table filled with bric-a-brac for sale. It’s always loaded into my beat-up old green van that’s parked behind my building. Everything is on wheels or pretty light (at least for a banshee), so it’s no trouble to cart it from the van to my stall and then pack it up again.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll man the stall while you eat, then we’ll switch.”
“You’d do that?”
“Why wouldn’t I do that? I want you to be able to eat popcorn. Or, y’know, walk around and see your friends. Or shop. This place is so cool,” he looks around, and I see his eyes zero in on the back row—then widen.“Does that guy have wings?” he whispers.
“He’s a gargoyle, and yes, he does. Go say hi and get popcorn. Or, um, get the popcorn and look at the stone carvings he does. You might want to skip the small talk until he gets to know you.”
“How is he going to get to know me without small talk?”
I frown. “That’s probably a good point.”
Jared kisses my cheek and trots off, leaving me glowing. I see Alban wave, and they fall into conversation. Jared makes a point of bending down and shaking each of Alban’s kids by the hand, smiling at them, and pointing to the stuffies they have with them.
He’s going to be such a good dad.
Ten years ago, that wouldn’t have been hot.
Right now?
I could bite through his shirt and haul him into the back of my van for a second round of lovemaking.
“Oooh, let’s stop here, Li! I love this gold bracelet. Although it’s probably fake, so I’m not paying more than ten dollars for it. Miss? I—oh. It’s you.”
