Magic had its uses.
Yet the luxury around her made her all too aware that she was trapped without her own magic. Jacob Gryffin had seen to that. She looked down at her hands, trying to focus her energy. Nothing. What was she going to do? What were they going to do to her? The only way to ensure that the Proxenos could not nullify the match would be consummation. Would they force her?
She stuck her head beneath the warm spray and closed her eyes, seeing them both in her mind. The real question was, would they have to use force? She couldn’t deny, in spite of her indignation, in spite of all they’d done, she still wanted them. How would she survive in close proximity to two stunning and undoubtedly sexual Magians whose magic was so compatible to hers? A perfect match to hers, despite their differing skills.
Ric was obviously a morph. Like Jenner. Unusual.
Other than her sweet, if meddling housekeeper, what she knew of that sort of Magian was that it loved to play games with people’s heads. They were born mischief-makers. Harrison wanted to kick herself for not being more suspicious about the intelligent stray she’d called Prince.
And Jacob. After his performance this morning, there could be no doubt that he was a siren. At least it answered her question about whether or not he was her attacker from the other night.
She’d never met a male siren before. Females were rare enough. Someone who could affect the physical with the power of their voice. Not a compeller like Callie or Tucker. They didn’t persuade you. Sirens could hurt you. Could stun you. Could make your body climax not from a command, but from the sound of their voice alone.
But he hadn’t used it on her and he could have at any time. In her apartment. When he’d come in the room. Instead he’d been so restrained she’d almost been disappointed. Now that she knew what he was capable of, she supposed she should be relieved.
Sirens were compellers squared. When one was born, they were kept close track of by the law, by their families. So much power in one person was a rarity. Look at her. According to everyone, her type of magic was rarest of all. She could master each skill if she chose. A conduit. So they said.
It made her a freak in the land of the strange. It made her an oddball. And she had yet to discover her trigger. That something that would allow her to truly channel the power inside her.
She was good at potion making, and she knew her magic was strong, but she still didn’t have the control to tap into the powers of others. To pick and choose. Jenner said she was still young, that it would come. But that excuse was getting old.
Perhaps her real fear was that all the hype was a mistake. That the Abbott heiress was a fraud. If it was true, Jacob and Ric had gone to a helluva lot of trouble for nothing.
Thinking of them, even for an instant, made her skin tingle. Since Jacob had touched her, calling to the magic inside her, she’d been a bundle of raw nerves. Hot and restless. Waiting.
The soothing massage of the waterfall changed, begin to pulsate against her body in a sensual rhythm. The steam around her solidified, forming into the shape of a man that towered above her, looking a little too much like Jacob for her piece of mind. Only his face was kind.
“Do not be afraid. I am here to ease you. To bring you pleasure. May I wash you?”
Another spell. In a daze, Harrison watched as the enchanted man picked up a washcloth from a nearby rock ledge and began to lather it with soap. She’d taken charmed showers most of her life, but never one like this. Though she had heard about them.
It didn’t take an intricate spell to make water sentient. After all, in a way it already was. But from the conversations she’d overheard, most Magians had a problem with creating something that appeared human to use for their pleasure. It was a moral issue. One she wasn’t sure she disagreed with. But, this felt so…nice. So decadent. Her own personal, elemental Poseidon. Her head might be hesitant. But her body had no qualms at all.
He knelt at her feet, the washcloth gliding over her hips and thighs. She lowered her eyelids and hummed beneath her breath. When a hot, wet mouth closed over her nipple, she jerked in surprise.
“This is what you want. I can feel it. Allow me to give you what you desire.” The whispered voice fell like rain against her thirsty senses. Yes. She wanted. She needed. She had needed for months, if not longer.
The steaming man continued to spread kisses across her breasts, the washcloth sliding between her legs to press against her sex. “Oh.”
“Give in to it. Let me please you. It’s the reason I exist.” His head lowered, his mouth replacing the washcloth that dropped at her feet.
Harrison gave in. The enchanted tongue was doing, well, magical things. She allowed her fantasies free reign, if only for a moment. In her mind Jacob was there, his hands caressing the curve of her ass, his teeth closing gently around her clit. And then not so gently.
She lay back against the rocks behind the waterfall, crying out in pleasure as he lifted her legs over his strong shoulders and took her with his mouth. His tongue pulsed like the hot hard water against her back, tasting her, taking her.
Her hands gripped his wet hair, pulling him closer. “More.”
Harrison felt him smile against her flesh, and then another presence formed in the water beside her. “Two of you?”
The new man, this one looking a lot like that scoundrel Ric, smiled sensually. “Whatever it takes to please you.”
The man between her thighs stood, his hands gripping her legs as the other man slid in behind her. Harrison shook her head. “We can’t, I don’t think I can—”
“Use us to pleasure yourself. All we are is what you need us to be. Nothing more.”
This must be what the Devil sounded like. So tempting. So alluring. What would be the harm? It was only a spell, no more than she had done to ease herself before. But they looked so much like the men she was trying to resist that it made her hesitate.
The two charmed men tilted their heads simultaneously, studying her.