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Authors: Sabrina York

Trickery

BOOK: Trickery
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TRICKERY
 

By Sabrina York

Copyright © 2013

Reissued 2016
ISBN: 978-1-941497-12-8

 

Editor: Carrie Jackson

Cover Artist: Dar Albert

 

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Trickery, by Sabrina York

Though seducing a mortal is expressly forbidden, novice witch Willow Ostreth wants one. Bad. Unbeknownst to Willow, Austin—the glorious, delicious specimen who makes her heart pound and her body weep—is no mere mortal. He’s really Damien DeWinter, a powerful warlock, a man determined to lure Willow—and bind her—to his bed.

When the luscious Willow breaks the rules and uses her magic to ensnare him, Damien—rebel, renegade, outcast from the Witching World—figures he has carte blanche to pursue her and seduce her using any means possible. And his arsenal is vast.

As they tempt and torment each other with pleasure, neither realizes there is a greater magic at work. One that could bind them together, forever.

 

 

 

Dedication

For Sera

 

Chapter One

 

“You can’t be serious, Willow.” Skylar Skarsgård tipped her head and gazed over her shaded glasses at the waiter…just as he bent to pick up a heavy box. Two things were supremely evident--his bulging pecs and his tight, firm ass. “He is yummy,” she murmured reflectively. She recalled herself and turned to glare at her protégé, her albatross. “The Council would have a fit. And not just because you plan to seduce a mortal.”

“But he’s so hot.” Willow wriggled in her chair just to emphasize the point.

Skylar ignored her. Ignored her bouncing red curls and glittering green eyes. The pink tongue dabbing at bow-shaped lips. For a moment, she envied Willow’s zest for life, the enthusiasm of the young. But then she remembered her own trials during her early years and snorted. There were costs. In all things. Willow would learn this. Life would temper her. It always did. Skylar hoped the lessons wouldn’t be too painful for Willow…or come too late.

There was a lot at stake here and the burden was on Skylar to make sure disaster didn’t descend. Trouble was, Willow—darling, daring, impetuous Willow—was disaster waiting to happen.

“You simply cannot use your magic to seduce him. It’s against the rules.”

Willow put out a lip. “It’s not fair.”

“No. It’s not.” Most novitiates completed this phase of their training well before they hit puberty, when sexual energy was easily reined in, channeled. Willow had been discovered late. Extremely late. But it had been a joyous discovery for the coven, for the entire Witching World. In a time when technology seemed to be snuffing magic out, it was a miracle to find pure, unbridled and true talent.

Skylar shot a look at her protégé. Well. Perhaps the talent could have been a little more bridled.

She sighed. Willow was a trial. She was willful and impatient and stubborn and, dear Gaia, horny. But the Congregation needed her. Her talent, her magic. Her power. She was the secret to their survival. The Auspices had so decreed.

“It’s not my fault I can’t attract men in the normal way anymore. I don’t understand why Midea had to make me this hideous.” Willow mangled a paper napkin, her attention fixed on the waiter. Skylar could
smell
her arousal.

She forced her lips into something akin to a smile and patted Willow’s hand. She understood the girl’s pain. When she—or any of the Sisters—looked at Willow, they saw her true self, a bubbly, charming, beautiful woman, a truly talented witch. What others saw, what mortal humans saw, well, it wasn’t pretty. Chin hairs and back fat and googly eyes. No wonder men barely noticed her. Midea had certainly outdone herself with this spell. The Great Mother Witch was determined to keep her little treasure pure.

“Your obscurity protects you, Willow. And not just from random, unworthy men who will want you.”

“And what if I want them?”

“What part of
unworthy
don’t you understand? Soon you’ll be an Enchantress. You’ll take the vows. You have an obligation to propagate the magic. You can’t just fuck any old,” she waggled her fingers in the vague direction of the screeching espresso machine, “coffee vendor.”

“That coffee vendor is
hot
.”

“Yes. He is.” He was. Extraordinarily so. He would have to be, to snag Skylar’s attention. She’d been a member of the Congregation for more years than she could count. She’d lost her taste for mortal men, ordinary men. And so would Willow—even super-hot coffee vendors with—dear Gaia. Was he flexing his bicep?

Oh. He was.

Skylar studied the bulging, veined muscles for a moment, let her gaze drift to the cut abs visible through his tight tee shirt. A little drool pooled in her mouth.

She shook her head. What was she thinking? Ah yes. Willow. She, too, would lose her interest in mundane men. If she could just be patient.

It would only take a hundred years or so.

“Darling, that boy is not for you.”

Willow crossed her arms and huffed. “It’s my Coming Out. I don’t understand why I can’t celebrate it the way I want.”

“You’ll celebrate it the way we all do. In the Sacred Circle. The Goddess will select a mate for you and that will be that.” Skylar drained her coffee.

“What if I don’t want someone picking out a mate for me? What if I don’t want him?”

Skylar had to laugh at her naiveté. “You will. You will.” Warlocks could be the most seductive creatures—when they wanted to. During certain times of the year, they were downright irresistible. There was a reason they stayed on their side of the Circle. There was a reason some witches kept their distance. And she wasn’t thinking of one man in particular. She wasn’t. Determinedly, she thrust
him
from her mind.

She stood and kissed her protégé on the cheek. “I have to fly now.” She shook a finger in Willow’s face. “You be good now, you hear?”

 

 

You be good now, you hear?

Willow glared out at the street as she watched her mentor disappear. The untutored eye would never have noticed the ripple, the distortion in the Fabric as Skylar disappeared herself and took to the sky, but Willow had seen it.

The Sisters in her coven treated her like a child. It was terribly annoying. They wrapped her in cotton wool and hovered over her shoulder and protected her all the time. All Willow wanted to do was practice her magic, to explore this exciting new power—the power she’d always had but only just discovered.

She’d studied hard, learned all the spells in the standard book and then begun exploring the archives. Midea had a fit when she discovered Willow in there the first time but now she was used to it. Well, kind of.

All her hard work had paid off and she was ready for her Coming Out, the ritual officially welcoming her into the fold. She would become a real witch, with permission to cast any spell she liked.

She bit back a grin. What a lucky thing Skylar hadn’t smelled the spell she’d already begun weaving around Austin. It was a subtle incantation, a dusty mote she’d found buried in the archives. A calling spell. And it was already starting to work.

It hadn’t been an easy enchantment. Calling spells, seduction amulets and lust potions were tricky at best. For one thing, they didn’t work if the target wasn’t, in some dark corner of his soul, willing to be beguiled. So in addition to the tedious work creating and balancing various elements of this charm, Willow had also had to find a way to reveal herself to him.

A man like Austin would never want her unless he could perceive her true self.

It had taken awhile because, damn it all, Midea wove tight, nearly impenetrable magic. But Willow had finally figured it out. Finally poked a hole in the repugnant mask.

Austin approached and Willow’s heart skittered with anticipation. She reveled in the broad expanse of his shoulders, imagining what that exquisite body was like beneath the tightly stretched fabric of his tee shirt.

“Can I get you anything else?” His voice was sexy, a dark dulcet melody. Flirtation glittered in his eyes. Ah. He could
see
her. The spell was nearly complete. She could taste it.

“No thank you, Austin.”

He grinned. A glorious raft of dimples exploded on one cheek. “Hey, you know my name.”

She pointed at his chest. “It’s on your name tag.”

“Oh. Right.” He laughed and slapped a hand over the metal plate. “What’s your name?”

“Willow.”

“Willow. That’s pretty.” He stood there for a moment gazing at her with his head tipped to the side like a puppy dog. “Say, my shift’s over in a few minutes. Can I walk you home?”

Willow boggled. Holy hell. Surely the spell wasn’t working this quickly? But then again, maybe it was. His expression seemed rather…doting. “W-walk me home?”

He nodded. A thick black curl flopped onto his forehead. Damn, he was cute. “We do live in the same building.”

“We do?” She’d never noticed.

“I think so. I’ve seen you getting mail.”

How on earth could she have missed him? She really needed to pay more attention to things. Certain things, anyway.

“Yeah. That’d be great.”

“Awesome.” He sketched a wave. “I’ll be back in five.”

And as easily as that, Willow lured her first man with magic.

And broke her first cardinal rule.

If anyone found out, there’d be hell to pay.

Chapter Two

 

The walk back to her apartment took forever. Willow had trouble restraining herself, from skipping ahead and grabbing his hand and tugging him to move faster. Her mind roiled with scenarios of seduction and they all ended in the same way. His cock—his thick hard cock—deep inside her.

She licked her lips and gazed at him, loving that she had to tip her chin to see his face. She loved a looming man. A big, muscular looming man. She loved when they pushed her down on the bed and forced their way between her thighs. She loved the weight of them, the pressure of their bodies on hers. The domination…

Of course, it wouldn’t do begin there. She’d have to lead Austin down this path step by step. Train him properly. If he was as good as she expected, as good as her instincts screamed, she’d want to keep him, even after the Circle. Even after the Goddess assigned her a warlock mate with whom she would be obliged to make magical babies.

She’d have to keep him a secret. The Sisters would have a conniption if they found out—they were very particular about whom she fucked.

Why they cared, she didn’t have a clue.

“Here we are.” Austin sprinted up the steps and held open the door to their brownstone. He bowed in a charming old-fashioned manner. “After you, milady.”

Willow giggled and stepped inside, aware that he followed, prowled behind her like a big cat. Silly boy. He thought he was seducing
her
.

She glanced at him as she fit her key in the lock. Saw his face fall.

“I thought…” He trailed off, looking woebegone and dejected.

“What?”

“I thought maybe we’d go to my place.” He gestured up the stairs. “Have a drink?”

Her lips curled. He thought she was dismissing him. That she’d simply allowed him to walk her home and this was the end of it. Silly, naive little mortal.

“A drink? I’d like that.” She opened her door wide and waved him in. He didn’t budge. She cleared her throat. “I have a lovely bottle of wine I’ve been saving for a special occasion.”

Just how special, he could never know.

“Great.” His face lit up. “Bring it.”

Willow blinked. She’d always envisioned entrapping him in her apartment, had layered spells all around the bed to ensure his compliance with her wicked wishes. But…surely it didn’t matter if they fucked first in his bed. Did it? The potion would guarantee his submission. “Okay. Let me grab it.”

She rushed into her apartment, through to her kitchen and grabbed the bottle she’d filled only last night. It was sealed with a waxed stopper, intricately etched with an erotic incantation. She snagged the chalice as well and chuckled to herself.

Austin wouldn’t know what hit him.

She practically floated up the two flights of stairs in his wake, twitching and creaming and trying to still her heart as his ass, his perfectly molded, tight ass, waggled in her face. Yum. Yum, yum, yum.

It was delicious, having power like this, despite all the pesky rules and constraints that came with them. She could have any man she desired. Anytime she wanted him.

Delicious.

His hand trembled a little as he unlocked the door. It took several tries for him to put the key in the lock, but he was hardly tentative. He ushered her into his apartment, spun her around, plastered her against the wall and put his hot hard mouth on hers.

Mercy! The calling spell was definitely stronger than she’d realized.

She didn’t mind at all.

Austin’s kiss was scrumptious, a tantalizing mix of sweet arousal and banked passion. His lips dragged over hers in a drugging rhythm. Then he sucked on her lower lip, nibbled.

Willow shivered. Dear Gaia, he was a good kisser. She really didn’t want to stop, didn’t want it to end and she groaned in protest when his warm wet lips trailed away, across her cheek and to her ear. But then…

But then his mouth settled on the crook of her neck and he nuzzled her there until she shuddered. With that shudder, that convulsion of every cell in her body, cream dampened her panties.

Perhaps it was her imagination but when he lifted his head, a dazed look flickered in his eyes and his nostrils flared, like he could
smell
her.

“The bedroom’s over here.” He tried to tug her in that direction but Willow knew better. This passion was only the result of the calling spell. It was strong but not strong enough. She needed to reel him in. Capture him completely.

She held up the bottle and the chalice. “Wine first, I think.”

He stared at the bottle and a strange expression flickered across his face. It could have been impatience but it could have been something else. Willow didn’t take the time to figure it out. She broke the seal on the potent brew and poured the ruby liquid into the chalice. She passed it to him with both hands.

Oddly enough, he accepted it the same way—
with both hands
. A snarl of satisfaction, a swelling wave of excitement roared through her as he brought the enchanted cup to his lips. Holding her breath, she tracked his every move.

But then, just as the red liquid was about to touch his lips, just when he was about to become hers, ensorcelled to her completely, he paused. Lowered the glass. “Aren’t you going to have any?”

Willow’s heart stuttered. “I…um…I thought we’d share the glass.”

An enormous grin flooded his expression. “Awesome,” he said. And he lifted the chalice again. And drank.

Hot rivulets of pure sensation scudded down her spine as she watched him. Watched the undulation of his Adam’s apple as he quaffed her powerful potion, drained the cup. Ribbons of sortilege rose, tangled between them, tightened.

He lowered the chalice and her gaze fixated on the red droplet clinging to his lower lip. She longed to lap it up. She bit her cheek as hunger snarled in her womb.

“That was amazing.”

Slowly, his tongue edged out and swept the droplet away.

Dear Gaia. She wanted to lick his lips. Lick him. Consume him. Her body trembled with want.

“Here.” He thrust the chalice at her. “You try some.”

Willow took the cup from him, instinctively taking it with both hands. “I shouldn’t.” No. She really shouldn’t. The potion had been brewed especially for him. There was no telling how it would affect her.

His brow lowered. “Why not?”

“I’ve already tried it.” Yeah. A lame excuse. But he seemed to buy it. He bobbed his head in sheepish agreement.

Hmm. She hadn’t realized these spells might make him stupid. She wasn’t sure what she thought about that. But then she looked at his body, the muscles of his rock-hard abs, barely constrained in that tight tee, his trim waist, his thick muscular denim-clad thighs…and she decided not to care.

“Hey. I have an idea.” Austin’s face was alight, eyes bright, mouth smiling, dimples blossoming. Damn. Damn, damn, damn, he was hot.

“What?”

He settled his warm, heavy palms on her shoulders and bussed her quickly on the lips. She tasted her potion on him. Smelled it. Felt it. A wave of paralyzing lust possessed her.

“Don’t go anywhere. BRB.”

She didn’t go anywhere. Didn’t move a muscle. Couldn’t. She was too consumed with the smell of him. The taste of his lips. The essence of her magic on his breath. Even now it was seeping into his bloodstream, nestling in his cells, pounding through him, surging in his cock.

She stood there, holding her chalice with both hands, so tightly her fingers were white, quivering with hunger for him.

He was back in a flash with a bottle.

“What’s that?”


My
wine. I totally get why you don’t want to try something you’ve already tasted. So try mine instead.” Holding her gaze with his own, he filled the chalice anew. “Go on,” he urged. “Try it. I love this vintage.”

Willow peered down at the wine swirling in her chalice. It was a deep, blood red and danced in the ambient light. She tipped her head and sniffed.

“My heavens.”

She wasn’t much of a wine-o—she usually reserved it for ritual work—but this smelled absolutely delightful.

“It’s a great vintage.” He leaned closer, so close she could see the rings around his irises. “It’s three thousand dollars a bottle.”

“Get out!”

“No. Seriously. My uncle bottles it. Sells it mainly to billionaires in China. Go on. Try it.”

She touched the chalice to her lips. She couldn’t resist. Really. What did three thousand dollar wine taste like?

Heaven.

Absolute heaven. That’s what three thousand dollar wine tasted like. “Oh my.”

She sipped again and again and before she knew it, she’d finished the entire glass. She gusted a sigh and looked at Austin. He was watching her with the strangest look on his face. For a second, it looked oddly like…triumph, but he blinked and his usual carefree, slightly goofy persona snapped back in place.

Willow licked her lips. Surely she’d imagined that voracious glance. The glance of a predator that had captured its prey.

Clearly, her conscience was toying with her.

It wasn’t wrong to do what she was doing. It wasn’t.

She was a witch with power and he was a man she wanted. Other witches did it. They did it all the time. And obviously he
wanted
her or the spell would never have worked.

Was it her imagination, her rising lust or perhaps the drugging effect of the wine that made him seem slightly bigger, more dominant?

“Well?” He stepped closer, his scent wafted toward her. It was musky and heady and smelled like hunger. “Did you like it?”

She longed to taste the tiny beads of sweat clinging to his brow. Longed to skate her palm over his chest, and test the muscles. Longed to rub herself against his body like a cat.

“Willow? Did you like it?”

“Like it?”

He took the chalice from her hands, with both of his, and carefully set it on the table. From beyond the fog wrapping around her mind, she knew this was wrong. She shouldn’t have let him do that but she couldn’t remember why.

“The wine.” He kissed her, opened her lips and nudged his velvet tongue in to her mouth. Licked her. Their saliva, their scents, mingled.

She tangled her fingers in the hair at his nape, preternaturally aware of every silky strand, the velvet of his neck as she stroked. He shivered and pulled her closer. His heart thrummed in tandem with hers. His warmth sank into her. The fat wedge of his cock nudged her belly. She moaned and leaned into him. He stiffened.

“Willow.” He kissed her. Long and drugging. His essence tangled with hers, tugged. “I want you. I want you in my bed.”

“Yes, Austin.”

He lifted her in his arms and a thrill of excitement shot through her. She loved big men. Loved strong men. Loved men who took charge. She feasted on his neck as he carried her to his room, tasted and teased the soft skin, nibbled and sucked until he rumbled a little growl.

He should be at least as aroused, as helpless, as she.

BOOK: Trickery
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