Willoughby flushed, and his eyes widened with panic. I smothered my laughter against his shoulder, but Midnight snickered.
I didn't know if I loved the your witch part or the fact that he'd desired pleasure with me so badly that he'd had wet dreams about me, where we now lay.
But this was no longer a dream.
I curled my mists more tightly around Willoughby's prick, swirling around its sensitive head, lapping around it like a tongue, and then stroked him hard and insistent.
Willoughby held me like he'd been frozen to ice and without this touch, he'd shatter.
I pumped his silky prick quicker and quicker...
Sweet Hecate, this beautiful, dangerous creature was mine.
Willoughby didn't turn away from me this time. I was lost in his cold gaze, as much as he was lost in mine. There was nothing anymore, but each other. This moment and touch.
I understood now: my pleasure didn't matter because this wasn't about lust or touch.
It was love.
Willoughby's breath became ragged, and he shook. My mists licked round and round the ridge of his prick’s head, at the same time as stroking faster.
If I shattered Willoughby, could I put him back together?
"Come," I whispered.
I swallowed Willoughby's gasp with a kiss. His prick pulsed and came, and I held him, as his magic flowed through mine. It craved to break free and freeze the room, destroying everything in our passion. Yet I could control him or together, our magic found a new way to cling to life, rather than to death.
As I lay in bed with a deadly prince whose power was as wild as my own, I realized that this was about more than the Membership or freeing us from the academy. I hadn't lied to Willoughby.
This wasn't a game.
Yet I'd awoken the same as Willoughby, and I knew that I was the one who could shatter.
Chapter Seventeen
BASK
It was typical Damelza to even make our reward of free time sound like a chore. This afternoon, we Immortals would be sent on a deadly mission, so this morning we’d been treated to Compulsory Relaxation.
I was surprised that the bad bastard hadn’t included Compulsory Wanking. Away with you, it was a brilliant way to relieve stress, and it strengthened your sperm into wee Supermen…or Spermen.
Seriously, I was taught about that in the harem. Incubi Sex Education was thorough and practical.
I shuddered. Still, I didn’t need to be told to relax. Rule 29 of the Incubi Code stated: Relax, you’ve already done the hard work to look this good.
Wait, if it was a rule, then maybe I did need to be told…?
I snorted, running my fingers through my shiny hair.
Yep, I did look this good.
At least Compulsory Relaxation meant that Magenta had been allowed to lead us Immortals out of the castle and into the crisp air of the grounds. Fox was wrapped in Sleipnir’s spare woolen coat. There was no Juni around to insist that Fox freeze. Sleipnir’s expression softened, every time that Fox sniffed at the collar like Sleipnir’s scent made him feel safe.
Inside, it’d felt suffocating, just waiting for the mission to start. Outside, I’d looked up at the gray sky and the spires of non-magical Oxford. It was possible to remember that there was a free world outside the trials, rivalries, and missions.
I’d taken deep lungfuls of air, which smelled fresh and as untamed as the grounds. As I’d settled on my sexy arse beside the lake, and the snow had crunched beneath me like a blanket, the ancient magic from the Dead World pulsed. All of a sudden, I’d felt it twisting deep inside me that there was so much more at stake here than my own slinky self, the professors, or the princes (remarkable, snicker).
Magenta was the academy, nature, and death. If we broke the curse, then we’d save her, free all the Rebels forever, and close down the darkest academy in the supernatural world.
I’d bitten my lip to hide its tremble because I’d never be free. My place was as an obedient freak of a bonded at the Succubus Court. But here’s the thing, love was eternal to an incubus. It was this whole thing. So, I’d never stop loving Magenta, and if I died for her this afternoon, then at least the Duchess would never touch me again.
As long as all my Immortals were safe, I’d burn myself to death.
Come on now, what’s not romantic about that?
I peeked at Magenta, who lay with her head on Sleipnir’s lap. He stroked his fingers through her hair. His own hair was candy pink and longer than normal in soft waves, which must mean that this relax thing was working. Perhaps, I should order him around more to bring out this calm side: Compulsory Petting or Compulsory Cuddling.
Didn’t I already do that?
Fox shivered next to me, scooping snow up with his bare hands, which were slowly turning blue. I frowned. He needed gloves, a scarf, and proper boots. Whipping Boy Care was harder than it looked. His curls fell over his eyes, as he knelt up with intense concentration, building a snowman.
Wait, a snowcat.
Mist was curled sleepily on Magenta’s delicious tits (totally wasting sucking opportunities by nuzzling against them with the occasional satisfied snort), with a flamboyant pink tail and mane.
Magenta glowed with a matching pink aura like she couldn’t stop her magic overflowing. She’d been the same ever since she’d returned at dawn from sleeping in Willoughby’s bed.
Who was I kidding? From kissing, cuddling, and screwing the elf.
I scrunched up my nose, pouting.
Guilt had caused the nasty squirmy sensation in my guts after the Stop Game, and I’d been the incubus who’d insisted that she save Willoughby. It was hot to imagine the way that her mists had wrapped around his dick because she’d shared all the details, until Sleipnir had growled and dragged her down between us Immortals like we needed to claim her from the Princes again. Yet she’d refused to tell us anything else that she’d witnessed in the Princes’ Wing.
Even the best incubus could only feel so guilty, however, and Magenta hadn’t just been wham, bam, thank you prince.
She’d stayed with Willoughby, until he’d drifted to sleep in her arms. Jealousy was unattractive in an incubus, but I still shook with it because I was jealous of both of them.
I slid my hands down to my slim waist. Magenta had been insisting on more food for me over the last couple of days. I’d indulged without thought to my trimness.
Had I broken the cardinal Night Code and become less pettable?
I gasped, shooting Magenta another look. What if I dyed my hair sky-blue…?
I moistened my plush lips, preparing myself for a seduction. This was my talent. Time for a Bask Attack.
If we survived, Magenta would want me in her arms tonight.
I crawled towards Magenta with a deliberate swing to my hips. My ruby eyes glittered. I leaned over Magenta like I was going to kiss her, and her breath stuttered. At the last moment, however, I pulled back.