Page 87 of What The Hex (The Family Spells)
So when I came again, clenching tight on Argent’s cock, I called out his name properly, and let the claim inherent in it ring through the walls of the house. It shifted and creaked, as if in response to that, but I ignored it.
A witch’s house is a semi-sentient thing, fed by the owner’s magic. So … my house, in a sense, was me. I had let Monster in. I had let him stay. I had welcomed him.
I would take every pleasurable punishment that Argent wanted to give me.
“Again, Graceley. Again.” Argent fucked me with admirable stamina, bringing me to climax with his magic over and over again. There were vines on my clit, on my tits, pinching my nipples, in my ass, and eventually back in my mouth again. And when he came, pumping deep and hard and grunting like the wild faerie thing he was, the vines released a sweet, honeyed taste on my tongue and then fell away.
I was falling, and then Argent was catching me so beautifully, like a well-scripted drama where I floated into his arms and lay there dazed. I could barely get it together enough to look up at him.
“I will keep you,” he said, and then—even though it sort of looked like a grimace—he did his best to smile at me. It was a feral, faerie sort of smile, but eh, it worked. “Always.”
“Always,” I agreed, sleepy, sated. As Argent headed into our bedroom, I glanced back just once to see that Hex was still standing there, watching. Our eyes met and he offered up a grim sort of smile and a salute before turning and heading back into his borrowed bedroom.
Also, he had a serious tent going on in his borrowed joggers and what appeared to be a suspicious wet spot, like he’d jizzed in his pants.
Well, I supposed I could forgive him for going over to Violet’s place that night. I mean, I wasn’t going to take out ad space or anything, but he’d figure out eventually that I wasn’t actually angry. Not anymore.
“Let’s get you to bed,” Argent grumbled, just as Caine slipped past us and tossed a cocky look over his shoulder.
“Fuckin’ finally. Thought you two would never finish, and I was damn near afraid to come up the stairs. No chance I’m lettin’ my sweet behind be wrapped up in vine-cock.” He sauntered into the bathroom as Argent narrowed charcoal eyes his way and then carefully, lovingly, he placed me in bed beside Spectre.
“Hex came in those gray joggers you like,” I murmured as I curled onto my side, and Spec hooked an arm under my waist. I managed to stay awake just long enough to glance up and see him frowning prettily next to me.
“I know I’m normally in charge of the laundry, but … he can work on getting the stain out before he returns them. Demon cum is notorious for how badly it stains.”
That much I knew all too well. Because of Monster.
Monster.
Hex.
One demon I could keep; the other I would reject.
And I hated how much it pained me that I couldn’t have both.
The Christmas tree came from the woods behind our house. Though it was technically part of our property, it was left unfenced and blended into the national forest behind us. Since we’d moved into our house ten years ago, we’d planted three new trees for every one we cut down.
Hex watched from the sidelines as we took the kids—all bundled up in their winter gear—out into the forest to pick the perfect tree. He didn’t seem to understand that symmetry wasn’t the sole criteria we were looking for.
“Aesthetic is important, but mostly, it has to feel right,” Graceley explained as Caine trotted with Ophelia and Legend at his heels, showing them appropriate places to pee. A tree trunk here, a bush there. “See that one?” She pointed at a massive noble fir, with huge gaps between each level of branches. Grace liked to fill the gaps with presents (and spells). “That’s a winner right there.”
Now, said tree was gracing the corner of the living room. I was busy with the lights. Caine didn’t give a shit about lights, and Argent was an almost disturbing perfectionist.
Hex was … well, a helpless little lamb.
A lamb who jizzed in and ruined my favorite pair of pants. I did my best not to let that thought sour the cheerful holiday mood, but a small sneer curled my lip up, exposing a single fang, and Hex shuddered.
“You want to help me with this or are you just going to stand there and gape?” I said, tossing him a roll of lights. They were tangled. They were always tangled. And, for some reason that no magical theorist would ever be able to understand, there wasn’t a single spell that could untangle them.
