Page 77 of What The Hex (The Family Spells)
With a smirk, I left it over my lap and added a third finger to my wife’s scalding heat, pushing knuckle-deep into her pussy until a sharp moan burst from her lips. Even without seeing her face, I could just imagine it, her candy red lip caught under her bright white teeth.
Grace let out a ragged sounding groan, her thighs quivering, and then she collapsed.
I caught her in my arms as she fell and pulled her against me, snuggling her beneath my chin as I leaned back against the shelf opposite the one she’d been clinging to.
I hoped she could hear my heart, beating only for her.
“Did we follow the ten-minute rule?” I muttered, but I was pretty sure we’d broken it. If the kids were awake (even if they weren’t with us) and we had things to do, we were supposed to keep our clothes on and limit our quickies to ten minutes. But eh. Rules were made to be broken, am I right?
Grace murmured something happy but incomprehensible, and I pressed a warm kiss to her forehead, waiting for her to notice the Santa hat still draped over my flaccid dick.
“What on earth …?” she finally whispered, lifting it up and then giving me a wide-eyed look in response. “Caine Spells! This was the good Santa hat; I like to use it as a tree topper.”
“It’s a bedroom Santa hat now,” I growled right back, snatching it from her hand and folding it up to keep all that festive holiday snow contained inside. “I’ll wash it and we can use it when you sit on Santa’s lap.”
“You’re deranged,” she retorted with a snort, sitting up and pushing red hair back from her sweaty face. We both paused at the sound of footsteps, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
“The fuck you want?” I called out, before the faerie dickhead even showed his face.
“Are the two of you finished yet?” Argent demanded, appearing at the end of the aisle, candlelight illuminating him from behind. “If not, then I suggest you invite me to join because if I have to spend one single second longer with this witch woman, I may very well kill her.”
Lulu Witch, the High Priestess of Coven Wyrmwood, was sitting on the black leather chesterfield chair in my consult room, sipping tea—like I said, witches really loved their boiled plant water—and studying the various jars full of spell ingredients laid out on the worktables on either side.
It wasn’t particularly common for a witch from one coven to visit with another, especially when magic and spells were involved. We were all quite protective of our coven’s secrets. There were not, however, any to be found here.
Passionate Potions and Seductive Spells was a place of business. Witches from all over the world came here to procure ingredients. So whatever it was that Lulu was hoping to glean from the carefully labelled jars, she wasn’t going to get it.
“Lulu Witch,” I greeted politely, slipping past the curtain only after ensuring that my red dress was smoothed out and as wrinkle-free as possible. Fortunately for me, I also kept spare panties on hand in the shop for just such an occasion.
What I couldn’t do was dim a witch’s natural sense of smell. I’d cleaned up in the bathroom, but my skin was dotted with beads of sweat, and arousal wasn’t just about fluids; the hormones and pheromones in my blood were enough to give away all my secrets.
“Do you often have sex in your store whilst customers are present?” Lulu asked absently, and I grit my teeth against the not-so-subtle insult. I forced a smile to my face instead, aware that my husbands were just a single curtain away, listening and waiting for trouble.
It was best that they let me handle this by myself for now.
Lulu was likely to strike several nerves before her visit was over, and the only person in the Family Spells who was good at controlling their temper wasn’t here right now. Spectre was watching the kids and babysitting Hex. I say that because Hex needed the supervision for now, and well, the kids were Spec’s so he couldn’t possibly babysit them.
“The store’s not open yet,” I said, trying my best not to reach out and flip the hot cup of tea onto the woman’s chest. She was dressed as any proper High Priestess might for a cordial visit with one of similar rank from another coven: a long black dress with a high neckline, sleeves that fell to her wrists, a hat covered in charms, and buttoned boots.
I had the hat covered, a pair of heels on my feet, but the red dress was just for fun.
Not only had I been asleep for a month, but I was now pregnant yet again, and I wouldn’t soon be wearing heels or dresses like this. No, when I was super pregnant, I only liked big, flowing witchy robes that I could curl up in on the couch and read firefighter romance novels. Oh, or alien ones. Anything but ‘paranormal romance’ or ‘urban fantasy’. I’d tried before, but it was sort of just like alternate versions of my actual life. I needed CEOs and army romance, race car drivers, and stepbrothers.
