Page 95 of Love Spells: And Other Non-Refundable Magic

“Maybe I like knowing what you like, linda.”

Her expression changes. The humor doesn’t disappear entirely, but something warmer moves beneath it. “Then keep doing that.”

So I do.

The room becomes very quiet except for the rain and our breathing.

I take my time with her, partly because I want to learn her and partly because I discover very quickly that Merry has almost no ability to hide when something feels good. Every time I touch her clit, her reaction gives her away—the sudden tension in her body, the way she reaches for me, the small sounds she tries and fails to swallow.

And every one of them makes me want more.

“Can I taste you?” I ask, and now it’s my turn to sound breathless. I want more. More of her and more of this, and more of the way she looks when she’s under me and aroused and letting go.

I kiss her again, and Merry pulls me down against her until I can feel how fast her heart is beating.

“Me too, please,” she whispers.

Whatever restraint remains between us dissolves after that. I trail kisses down her stomach and stop at her hips, licking the bone that juts out slightly. I bite—because I can—the soft flesh of her thigh, and Merry’s hand immediately tangles into my hair, pulling me up until I can see her.

“Oh, god,” Merry mumbles, and her right forearm lands over her eyes, covering her face. “Jesus, I think I might die.”

I shake my head, still smiling, and kiss the inside of her thigh again. Merry exhales shakily, and as soon as my tongue is on her, the laughter dissolves.

Then I turn my attention back to her pussy, my tongue pressing against her clit. Merryweather’s breath stutters, and her hand flies to my hair, pulling through the strands in a way that both seems to want to move me out of the way but also keep me there for a while.

I take my time with my tongue first, exploring her and what makes her squirm underneath me. Time seems to stop as I work my mouth on her, sucking on her clit, licking at her entrance, the taste of her arousal so addictive I never want to stop.

Merry’s back arches off the mattress, and I have to use my hand to flatten her down against it, keeping her there. She moans, and it’s deep and guttural and nothing like I’ve ever heard before. She moves her legs, placing one over my shoulder and tightening it against my head, and I can feel her orgasm building, her body shaking.

Her hand is gripping my head tighter—not painfully—and her hips are following the rhythm of my tongue on her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Flora,” she’s chanting through gasps, and I lift my head to see her, eyes shut and hair spread messily across the pillow, completely undone. “That feels so good.”

“Do you want fingers?” I ask, then immediately return my face to her pussy, unable to stop tasting her.

“No, no, I’m almost⁠—”

Merryweather pushes my head, and I suck at her clit, moving my tongue exactly as I’d been doing, all while she grinds against my mouth. And then she lets out an unexpectedly deep moan before going still underneath me.

“Oh,” she croaks, and her grip releases my hair.

I give her a second to breathe before I start making my way back up her body, pressing soft kisses against her stomach, then higher, following the rise and fall of her chest as it slowly begins to settle. I just want to touch her, to feel the warmth of her skin beneath my lips and the little movements she makes as I get closer to her mouth.

“Flora,” she interrupts, and I can see she’s breathing hard, and there’s something so pleased about the expression on her face, I immediately become suspicious. “Sit on my face.”

For one long second, I can only stare at her.

Merry’s confidence wavers almost immediately. “Unless you don’t want to. Obviously. I probably should have led with that instead of just⁠—”

“Yes. Yes.”

The smile that spreads across her face is so thoroughly delighted that I laugh. She kisses me again, and this time there’s nothing hesitant about the way she reaches for me.

CHAPTER 27

MERRYWEATHER

“Oh my god, you dirty girl.”