Twice a Wish

I didn’t care about any of it because the man shoved me against the door and pressed his body to mine.

I whimpered as he rocked his erection into my belly.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

I wanted to ask how he thought we knew each other. Why he cared so much about his son’s girlfriend, but his lips crashed onto mine.

Instantly, the final army I had against the elixir’s invasion threw down their weapons and yielded. It felt as if my chest cracked open, revealing a too-fast heart, unzipping me from the inside. My need was exposed, dripping in bright red blood and crackling gold lust. I lusted right down to my bones. Desperation infected me from the top of my scalp to the bottom of my feet.

He could touch me anywhere, and I’d probably come.

“I want you so fucking much. I think I’ve always wanted you. How can I exist knowing that you exist? How can I survive if I don’t take you for my own?”

His lips bruised mine.

I moaned into his kiss, into his declarations, swept away by my body but held hostage by my mind.

Sully.

I only wanted to kiss Sully.

Not this man.

Not Scott.

Not anyone.

Just Sully.

His tongue swept over mine, and my thoughts crackled with bad reception, sending hissing snow, burying my misplaced loyalty with yet more uncontrollable elixir.

I didn’t know what I was most upset about.

That I would willingly kiss a stranger back. That I would clutch at his hair and rock my hips into his, or that I felt disloyal to Sully…not Scott.

That my heart cried because I wanted the monster who bought women to be the one kissing me, not my caring, travelling partner who shared my life goals and destinations.

What sort of minx did that make me?

What a goddamn harlot.

I hated myself.

I wanted to punish myself.

So I kissed him harder, throwing myself at the stranger’s mercy.

With a guttural groan, he ripped himself away, reeling backward as if I’d done the wrong thing submitting to him. “No…we can’t.”

I blinked. My lips burned from his. My breasts heaved with breath. With him gone, all the urgency and potency from my own desire returned tenfold, and my fingers fluttered to finish his task.

I curled my hands, doing my best not to pinch my nipples, or to rub my clit in pain.

“You’re off-limits. You’ve always been off-limits.” The man paced with his hands buried in his hair. “I can’t have you. It would kill me if I did…” He rubbed his mouth. “And it would kill him…my son.”

I struggled to follow, resorted to a writhing, wanting mess. “Why…why am I off-limits?” My voice was unrecognisable—thick and throaty, lusty and seductive.

“Because you’re his!” He spun to face me, his hands falling helplessly to his sides. “Because you’re dating my son.”

“Oh.” I blinked again, everything hazy with the need to be taken and used. “Is…is he here?” Had I messed up this daydream? Was I supposed to sleep with this man’s son instead? How was I supposed to know what my service was to be if Sully never told me who to pleasure?

I didn’t want to pleasure anyone else.

I wanted someone to pleasure me.

That was the whole purpose of elixir—to take away my morals and leave me a gasping, begging beast.

Well, I was one.

I’d reached the end of my limit.

I had nowhere else to go, nowhere else to fall.

I needed to come.

Now.

Immediately.

Please!!!

Claustrophobia wrapped me with tight thorny claws, and I reached for the tie around my throat. Tugging it off, I threw it to the floor, then worked feverishly on my shirt buttons.

“Wha-what are you doing?” The man stopped and stared. His gaze turned to blazing blue gems. “Please…stop.”

God, what was with this messed-up illusion?

Stop?

I couldn’t stop!

That was the problem!

Sully had turned me into a monster who needed, positively needed to be fucked. I didn’t care how or who by…only that someone did.

Stepping toward him, I worked on my skirt. The button popped off my hip, followed by a zipper. I shivered as I stepped out of the grey material, leaving it pooled on the floor.

I kicked off my heels.

He jerked, his gaze locking onto my legs. My bare legs. The only thing I wore were my white high socks, white shirt, and whatever underwear this fucked-up fantasy had given me.

His voice broke. “Do…do you need me as much as I need you?”

I nodded, biting my lip.

A tear trickled down my cheek at how wrong and delicious this was. How drunk I was, knowing I was breaking him. How distraught I was, knowing I broke myself.

He groaned, biting his fist. His mouth opened then closed. Then black determination covered his face. “Then show me.”

It was as if someone else had taken control of my body. Just like in the cave, my soul had sunk deep, deep inside me until only basic, raw desires remained. Words were so hard. Comprehension even harder.

All I wanted, all I lived for was sex.

And he wanted me to show him how much I craved it?

Fine.

Trading the shirt buttons for my underwear, I yanked them down my legs, letting them puddle and reveal a glistening wet patch in the crotch. I moaned as cool air licked my throbbing flesh.

Another almost-orgasm grated my teeth together. My hand drifted between my legs.

“Stop.” His command was vicious and sudden. “Come here.”

I tripped and almost crawled to him, rubbery legged and in pain, pain, pain. He gathered me close as I fell into his arms.

He felt so good.

So strong.

So tall.

So male.

I pressed my face into his black t-shirt, inhaling him.

The delicious scent of man’s aftershave and books. A papery heavy smell that brought more tears to my eyes because it smelt so comforting. Comforting but sexual. Sex was my entire reason to exist.

“I can’t look at you.” He kissed the top of my head, his entire body vibrating. “I won’t be able to stop if I look.”

I cried out as a full-body attack made me buckle. I was losing myself. Losing everything. “Please…” I clutched his shirt. “Please.”

“You’re begging me now? You’re meant to be here for my son.”

I licked my lips, our mouths so close. “Please.”

His eyes snapped shut and he cupped my cheek. “You’re fucking killing me.”

You’ve already killed me.

His refusal was the sharpest knife, stabbing through each rib, puncturing my lungs until I couldn’t breathe, slashing at my chemically conquered desire.

“I need. I need—”

I arched in his hold as another crippling pain ripped through me. A release destined to butcher me unless I let it have me. Unless this man let me come before I splintered and pulverised.

“Okay…” he murmured. “I can’t look but…show me in other ways.” His hand trailed from my cheek and over my breast. “Let me feel you.”

I nodded frantically, unable to stand straight as his hand continued its downward journey and dipped beneath my skirt.

His fingers slid along my fevered thigh, creeping higher and higher until another gush of wetness sprang to welcome him.