The word ‘witch’ rolls like thunder in my mind. The moment I laid eyes on her, I knew exactly what she was. Once I told Damien my suspicions, he wasted no time finding out who she was. She made a really stupid mistake. By getting into my club using her real name, she made it easy for me to find out everything about her.
I enter the room, not realizing that being in the same room with her would affect me, how seeing her in the flesh with my own eyes would be a kick to the balls. I couldn’t have possibly prepared for my demon’s reaction to her either.
The air rushes out of my lungs. This is no girl. The creature standing before me is a woman from top to toe. Her uniform hugs her lush body like a second skin and the shorts are so tiny that I can see the cheeks of her luscious ass peeking from the bottom of them. I can’t see her tits from this angle, but I have no doubt they’re every bit as delicious as the rest of her.
I want to order her to turn around. Something is pulling me towards this human woman, this witch, and I don’t like it one bit. The gravitational pull I feel towards her is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. A feeling settles deep inside my bones; a feeling that if I don’t take what I’m craving from her, my body will combust and burn for eternity.
Yet, no matter how my body seems to respond to hers, my priority needs to be finding out if she’s a spy. I have questions that require answers and if that means scaring the shit out of her, so be it. Had one of my enemies sent her? I certainly have enough of those. If that is the case here, I need to find out who and why.
The unfamiliar, bizarre gravitation I feel towards her goes against everything I know about myself, every instinct I’ve ever had. I always maintain absolute control over every emotion, every thought, every feeling. I’m normally an unfeeling bastard. Nobody crosses me and lives to tell the tale. I have zero regrets. In this world, it is kill or be killed. I’m not a psychopath, I don’t get off on it. I’ve never enjoyed hurting anyone, especially not the women I’ve been forced to hurt or kill.
Damien is what most people would consider my closest friend. He’s the one person I trust fully, the only person I would trust and have trusted with my life. There are a handful of others I trust to a certain extent, people who are loyal to me, and they are rewarded handsomely. People who cross me find it to be their undoing. If that makes me sound cold, well, maybe I am. I can’t afford to be soft. There are far too many people waiting in the wings for me to fail.
No matter how much my body begs for her, I must remain indifferent. I need to know what the hell she’s up to, no matter the cost. I can tell from her posture that she’s frightened. Is it because she fears what I may to do her and her loved ones? I feel a hint of pity and ruthlessly shove it down. I cannot allow myself to be swayed by emotion. She entered my club under false pretenses, and I can’t let it go without consequence. I will get the answers I require. The more frightened she is, the more likely she is to comply.
As if sensing my presence, she turns towards me, and I feel like I’ve been kicked in the gut. Her skin is flawless, like whipped cream. Wide green eyes stare back at me, a mass of dark auburn hair is piled on top of her head, and her lips are the color of red roses. Her breasts are large and round, her hips flare out and flow down to her shapely toned legs. She has the perfect hourglass figure. Without the fuck-me shoes, she’s tiny, probably only coming to my shoulder. She definitely isn’t my usual type; I generally go for taller, slimmer women with bigger tits. However, something about her is calling out to me. I can feel the demon inside of me rise to attention.
“I am Lucien Sinclair,” I introduce myself, “you are?” I demand. Though I already have a good idea about who and what she is, I want to see how truthful she will be with me. I see her eyes flick to the TV monitors before coming back to rest on me.
I let her question me, something I wouldn’t normally do. I can smell the fear radiating from her and I can’t stop myself from relishing in it. I’m a sick fuck. Her terror is like a drug I could feed on forever. I take a deep breath and taste something else in the air. Something that fills me with pleasure. I can smell and taste her desire.
I watch her as she tries in vain to conceal her emotions by keeping her face blank, but I can read every single one of them. I can see that she’s feeling overwhelmed and that she’s wondering if she should tell me the truth as she worries that I might already know who she is. My demon is delighting in the emotions rolling off of her and he tugs at the reins of my control, wanting to devour them.
I listen as she asks for my help in finding her sister. Apparently, the woman who went missing from my club is her sister and it seems she’s willing to beg for my help to find her. Why she thinks I would be interested in helping her, I have no idea. I don’t give a fuck about her sister. I know that if the situation weren’t dire, she wouldn’t be standing before me right now. I can taste the desperation coming off her in waves.
“Why do you think I would be interested in helping you?” I question, intrigued to learn her answer.
“Well, it’s not good for business to have innocent people go missing from your establishment. It would be bad news for anyone, but especially for Lucien Sinclair.” I watch her swallow, her nerves showing through. She continues, “I will do anything you want if you help us find our sister.”
Oh, this is just too easy. I notice the little slip-up and chuckle to myself. “So, you will do anything? Does that include your family?” I ask, showing no emotion as I stand up from the leather chair and slowly drift towards her until my body is almost touching hers. “Or does that offer only include you? Mm, would you let me defile you? Take whatever I want, without question?” I watch with satisfaction as she fights with herself, trying not to take a step back. She’s trying not to show any sign of weakness.
“The offer only includes me,” she whispers back, unable to meet my eyes.
“What makes you think I’d even want to help? Even with the oh-so-tempting offer you’ve made,” I ask, monitoring her reaction as I circle her. Stopping directly behind her, I bend my head slightly towards her neck, taking in the smell of her sweet perfume. Something else, another scent, lies just beneath the surface. WITCH. I can hear my demon shouting out the same—naughty little witch.
My demon takes a deeper breath in, sensing more than one spell cloaking her. He identifies a concealment spell. Someone has tried really hard to hide her true self, but it isn’t working. Not on me or my demon, anyway. The rest of the spells are for protection, and they were all placed on her simultaneously.
I hold back the growl threatening to leave my throat, fighting to keep my demon buried deep inside of me. I press my body against her softer one, lowering my head further towards hers and pressing my mouth against her ear as I whisper, “You reek of desperation, and that alone makes me rock hard. It makes me want to take you up on your offer.” I feel her entire body go rigid as a shiver rips through her body.
“Tell. Me. Why. I. Should. Help?” I growl into her ear, feeling the shivers run down her spine as I demand an answer from her, “And how will it benefit me?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice is barely a whisper, and she swallows before repeating in a louder tone, “I don’t know. We don’t know anyone else who can help us find my sister.”
“You’re not helping your case, little human. You need to give me something that will make me want to help you,” I tell her, pressing my body slightly harder against hers.
“Me,” I hear her speak in a tremulous whisper, “I can only offer you… Me.”
She’s offering herself. Oh, this is so good, perhaps too good to be true. No one offers themself as a sacrifice unless they’re too stupid to think through the decision or too desperate to care. I can’t help but wonder which camp she falls into.
I’m fully aware that she is a human. A witch, in fact. I can smell the witch on her, a scent I haven’t caught in a long time. It’s coming off her in waves. Standing this close, and with my demon close to the surface, I know she’s hiding something else, and she’s more successful at concealing whatever it is than she is at hiding the fact that she’s a witch. I have the thought that the rest of her family are likely witches as well, but there’s something else lingering in her scent. Something neither my demon nor I can get a handle on. I suppose I’ll just have to wait for that part to reveal itself.
Then there’s the big question. Where did they come from? I remember the witches of old, but I had not seen them for a few generations. Even now, my hatred for them runs deep. The ones I knew in the past had always been fickle, untrustworthy, and you could never turn your back on them. They would think nothing of double-crossing you, and now I had one in my hands, standing here in front of me. Can life get any better? I chuckle to myself. I hate the part of me that wants to fuck and taste her until she screams from the pleasure.
I’ve done it to many in the past, so many witches. Many witches had tried to kill me or bend me to their will, and I let them believe they had won, let them think they had control over me. I’d given them pleasure so profound; they begged me for more. Even as I plowed into them, relentless in my fucking, before I ripped them to shreds. Many times, I let Aria join in my fun; she was even worse than me. At the time, she was everything I held dear. I hate what she’s become, conniving and deceitful. I know the outcome between us won’t be a happy one.
“Oh, little witch, I accept your offer,” I purr in Scarlett’s ear, letting her know I’m aware of what she is. “We’re going to have so much fun,” I torment her with my words as I slide my fingers down her arm before placing my hand over her stomach. She needs to know that this isn’t a fairy tale; she will not be getting her happily ever after with her prince charming. I’m nobody’s prince, never have been, and I’m going to love showing her just how bad I really am.
SCARLETT
I hear the words he purrs into my ear, but they don’t really connect. His fingers stroke my arm sensuously and it feels as though his fingertips are branding me with fire as he slides them over my bare skin. His hand burns through the material of my top, like he’s touching naked flesh.
I need to get out of here before things get any further out of control. My body is craving his touch and I have to press my lips tightly together to stop the moan that’s making its way up from my throat to my lips. I bite my tongue to prevent myself from begging him to touch me.
Has he cast a spell on me? That could be the only explanation. I’m still willingly standing here, waiting for his touch. His breath is scorching the skin of my neck, fluttering over my flesh.
He grabs onto my waist, squeezing hard and making me flinch from the pain. I’m certain there will be bruises there tomorrow. He grips my top in his fist and roughly tugs it down until my breasts spill free. He cups each one in his hands and rolls his thumbs over my tightening nipples. I can barely process what is happening, only aware of the fact that they’re already hard and peaked before I feel him tightening his grip and pinching them both. I shouldn’t be letting him do this, I think, as his tongue licks down the side of my neck.
“Fuck” I scream. My head falls onto his chest as I whimper from pain. Agony, the likes of which I’ve never before experienced, shoots through me like a bolt of lightning right into my breasts, forcing my back to arch into him as I try my hardest to ease the sensation. He doesn’t back off, only continues to twist my nipples. I grab onto his arms, digging my nails in deep, as if begging him to stop. Leaning over me, he bites down on my shoulder, not terribly hard, but still making me scream again from the slight pain.
He releases my tender nipples, slides his hands to my shorts and pops the button free before sliding the zipper down. I want to resist, slap his face for taking such liberties, but I can’t. My head is so muddled, it feels as though a cloud has entered my mind and is filling it with fog, causing all common sense to fly out the window. Lust is overlapping all rational thought.
“Don’t move,” he growls as his hand slides down my stomach and into my shorts, hooking his fingers into my panties and pushing inside them. His touch sends a shot of lust to my heated core, and I can’t help but close my eyes, even as I attempt to deny the desperate heat burning inside of me. His fingers find my clit and start to rub the hardened nub. My body instinctually responds, bucking as he hits the perfect spot and sends me into a frenzy.
“That’s it,” he whispers harshly into my ear, growling as I lift my hips towards his hand while he continues rubbing at my clit. Muffled cries of pleasure escape my lips when he whispers harshly into my ear, “I want to feel your wetness as you come all over my fingers.” His hand moves faster as he rubs harder over my nub. “I want to feel your juices running down my fingers and onto my hand.”
A thick finger penetrates me, going deeper with every breath. The rapid movement of his rough finger causes me to cry out while he continues to rub at my clit. The friction is too much to bear; it’s like a raging fire sweeping through my body, setting my insides aflame.
“I can feel how much you want me, little witch. I can smell your hunger. You’re so wet for me,” he declares as he slides another finger inside me, stretching my inner muscles. “You’re so fucking tight,” he growls as I clamp down, my tight walls consuming him. “I can smell your sweetness. Your hunger. I bet you taste just as good as you feel and smell. From this moment on, this body, this pussy, is mine. Everything I demand of you, you’re going to give to me willingly. No. Matter. What. It. Is,” he punctuates the final words, matching the movement of his fingers that are being pushed harder and faster inside me. A deep, hungry moan escapes me. “Come for me,” he demands, his voice deep and sensual, sending a ripple of awareness through me. “Come. Now.”
At his command, I scream my pleasure as I explode. My head shakes from side to side from the blinding pleasure he’s built up inside me and my nails dig hard into his arms. My entire body is quivering from the aftermath of the orgasm.
He holds me up against his solid body as he waits for me to come down from my high. I’ve never felt my body respond to anyone as it just did to him. I feel completely out of control, and it scares the hell out of me. This is unbelievably bad. I had known from my dreams how much he would be able to affect me. I just hadn’t realized how serious it was until now. I am facing the most difficult challenge of my life and I’m going to have to do everything in my power to protect myself.
Grabbing me by my shoulders, he nudges me away so I’m standing on my own before him. Refusing to meet his gaze, I look down at the floor. I’m embarrassed at the way my body responded to his touch. I’ve never felt so much desire, never felt such a powerful pull before. I just can’t bring my eyes to meet his and I’m mortified at my cowardice. I can feel his fiery gaze burning into my skin.
I need to gather up the courage to look him straight in the eye, as though what just happened was nothing special, an everyday occurrence, even.
I want to run as far away as possible. The way his touch affects me, I know I’m in trouble. Yet I know, no matter how loudly my mind and body are screaming for me to go, I cannot leave. I hear the voice inside my head saying, suck it up. Buttercup. We need his help.
I so want to tell her to shut the hell up, but I can’t take a chance that the man in front of me will notice me silently communicating with someone. As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. I need to get a grip. He’s yet to tell me what it is he wants in return for his help, but whatever it is, I’ve already agreed. I’ve fucked up royally and I know it, but I don’t know what else I could have done.
I proudly lift my head while pulling my top back over my breasts and fastening my shorts, as I take a step away from him. I will my body to calm down. I watch him with wide eyes as he lifts the very fingers that had, just moments ago, been deep inside of me and brings them to his mouth, sucking the juices from them.
“Just as I thought,” he growls, sounding like a feral tiger about to strike his prey. I watch the tip of his tongue lick along each of his fingers. “You taste like honey… like sweet nectar.”
His fingers come out of his mouth with a pop, and he moves toward me with power and confidence, his gaze predatory. His hungry look makes me want to strip myself bare, to stand completely naked before him. It’s fucked up, but I want him in a way I’ve never wanted anything. It scares me to death.
He reaches for me and wraps his arms around my body, molding our chests together. He crushes his lips to mine, and I part them for his fiery tongue. I can taste myself on him and it is beyond erotic. He kisses me with passionate hunger as his dick presses hard against my stomach, the sensation causing my pussy to pulse with desire. His lips trail down my neck to my shoulder and collarbone, nipping in small bites, which I’m certain will leave marks. My body trembles with an unfulfilled need; I want to feel his thickness inside me.
He steps away, releasing me with a mocking twist on his firm lips. I’m startled to find a man standing silently behind him. He’s enormous, nearly as big as Lucien, and that’s saying something. His head is completely bald, and I have the impression he shaves it. He’s one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen. His eyes are a piercing light blue that hold no emotion, and his skin is the color of creamy toffee. I didn’t even hear him enter the room and I’m unprepared to hide my shock at the interruption.
I look up at Lucien. I can’t read what he’s feeling, his face is a total blank. It’s as though nothing happened between us. He turns slightly towards the other man, motioning for him to come forward. The man walks over to where we are standing and whispers something into Lucien’s ear. I don’t have a clue what is being said, but from the look on Lucien’s face, I don’t think it’s anything good. Lucien looks pissed. Turning, he looks at me with narrowed eyes, looking at me as though trying to make some kind of decision.
“Don’t think you’re free to leave. Someone will be by shortly to escort you to a room,” Lucien tells me before turning and walking out of the room without a second glance, the strange, beautiful man following closely behind him.
I watch them leave the room, listening as the door closes with a soft click. Feeling my knees start to buckle under me, I collapse into the nearest chair. Oh my god, what just happened? I can’t wrap my head around it. I know the lust and emotions I’m experiencing are completely irrational. The events of the past hour or so fly through my mind. Where was my common sense? It isn’t with me now. He has no feelings for me; how could he? I know I’m merely a means to an end for him.
He’s more powerful than any of us realized. He somehow knew I was a witch the moment he saw me. I know it’s only a matter of time before he concludes that the rest of my family are witches, too.
The concealment spell hadn’t worked with him. How could it have failed? I’m almost sure it’s because he is such a powerful demon, but that shouldn’t have stopped the spells from working on him. Which leads me to another question… Is he something else? If so, what exactly is he? I need to make contact with my family and warn them. I know if I try now, though, I will certainly get caught.
With relief, I realize that he didn’t seem to sense what kind of witch I am. It’s bad enough he knows I’m a witch, but it would be disastrous if he was aware of the kind of powers I hold. I don’t even want to think about what would happen if he were to discover that we are Omega witches. If anyone outside of our family circle were to learn that we’re Omega and the powers we wield, it would be catastrophic. If the Natural or human world found out that the Omegas were thriving, and had mated with humans, witches, and Supernaturals, we would be hunted and captured to be used as vessels.
I’ve never had to use my self-defense training outside of our weekly sessions before. I never really considered that I might have to. My powers give me the strength to defend myself against the average human, and I feel that I have the training to defend myself against most Naturals. However, I’m unsure how effective I would be against someone with great power, and Lucien is one of the most powerful Naturals I’ve ever met. I will have to build walls around myself and keep him out. I cannot continue to allow him to touch me, not if I’m going to protect myself and my family from him.
The only thing to do is get his help to find Megan. And get the hell away from Lucien Sinclair as quickly as possible.
