BEWITCHED & BOTHERED

01 ✰ Night, September 30th

He breathed out against my cheek, the warmth sending delicious ripples down the length of my trembling body.

A whimper escaped my parted lips as I opened my eyes.

Mist.

I could barely see anything, but it didn't matter, because whatever he was doing made me want to shut my eyes anyway, to relish in the all-consuming pleasure he offered.

Him.

He was strong. Big...in every sense of the word, and as he rocked in and out of me with an insatiable urgency, I inched closer and closer to a kaleidoscopic release.

And here when my world was soon to shatter, he leaned into my ear and hoarsely whispered words so filled with raw, pulsating need.

"Come to me."

✫

"That's it?"

I nodded grimly at my Coven sister, Lucy. "Yeah," I answered after a drawn out breath. "Then I wake up."

Lucy's violet eyes glazed over with wanton desire. "I need a smoke."

It echoed my own sentiments. "You and me both."

"And you've been having these dreams for awhile now?"

"More often nowadays than before."

"How odd."

My sister Lucy (more accurately distant cousin) began scratching her chin and I could practically hear the gears in her head turning. Pausing for Lucy to stew in her thoughts, I took a sip of my capuccino. The bitterness woke me up a little, but not enough. When my eyes travelled to the baroque-style mirror on the adjacent wall, the sight of my reflection nearly knocked me off the kitchen stool.

Yikes.

I couldn't be bothered to put on concealer today, so the dark circles made the purple in my irises pop, and not in a good way.

Lucy clicked her tongue. "Sounds to me like a prescience dream."

"Well, either that or I'm just really horny."

I always was.

At that, Lucy laughed in a light, ladylike manner that I never quite mastered.

As if on cue, the kitchen doors magically swished open to reveal a shapely figure dressed in a floor-length silk robe in the deepest hue of midnight purple, slinky inner dress and sky high stilettos. The official Winterhaven garb.

I couldn't help but stare at Elder Lyrina, the Head of our Coven. For someone over three centuries old, the Elder was, to put it bluntly, outrageously hot. Her smokey, dark makeup contrasted the strands of silver in her otherwise auburn hair, which she wore swooped up in a low chignon to emphasise her slender neck.

"Lucinda, Leonora, I knew I'd find you two near food," she teased, violet eyes gleaming.

"Elder," Lucy and I greeted in acknowledgement.

"Lucinda, I need you to help Lexor with the bouquet arrangement for the meeting later." The Elder threw her hands up in exasperation. "The poor warlock has no idea what he's doing."

"Right away, Elder," my sister diligently replied and with a snap of her fingers, teleported herself away, leaving only a glittery puff of smoke in her stead.