GRAY
Willow ran, sprinting through the trees. The feeling of her magic washed over me, her connection to the land pulsing through the
forest with a strength I hadn’t felt in centuries. Susannah’s daughter had possessed magic like this, that deep connection that went further than anything I could offer.
This was the magic of love. Of mutual respect that came from a symbiotic relationship, which could never be taught. Willow was one with the earth around her, in a way that would have been a tragedy to have taken from her.
Which was why I never would have followed through if she had chosen to reject our deal.
I might have kept her locked away in a room on the upper floors of Hollow’s Grove and sealed off any windows so she couldn’t escape, but I couldn’t have taken this part of her away.
Not knowing just how severely it would have broken her. Where others might have wanted to control the fire in her veins, I only wanted to watch her learn how to embrace what it was to burn.
I strolled through the woods, keeping my pace casual so as to give her a fighting chance—or the illusion of one. Her wrath would reach an all-time high when she thought she could make it.
When victory was just outside her grasp, I would snatch it away from
her.
Willow needed to know that I was her only home. That her future
started and ended with me. I would tolerate nothing less than an eternity
with her by my side, guiding her along the path she’d always been destined to walk.
I listened, hearing each and every branch crack as she ran over it. Listening to the leaves rustling at her feet and using them to place her. The Cursed kept their distance as I walked among them, having learned their lesson previously when they came upon the corpses of their dead. The witch was mine, and I would not allow them to hurt her for the crimes of her ancestor.
Immersing myself in the place that Willow felt most at home, I tried to sink down into that part of the magic that I’d shared with her ancestor. Even recognizing the call of the magic, the love that Willow felt for the earth wasn’t what resided inside of me. The love she had was missing from my very being.
Perhaps it was because I’d spent so many centuries separated from it, unable to touch any of my magic. But to me, it was a tool to be used.
For Willow, it was a part of her—a part she would miss every day of her life, for if it was lost.
A smile drifted over my face as I continued on my path. I ran my fingers over a leaf, feeling it crumple beneath my fingers while I waited for the Witchling, who would have felt that loss as if it were her own.
Feeling her approach the center of the woods, I ran forward. With the same speed I’d used that day in the woods outside her childhood home, I easily sprinted through the trees. I quickly passed Willow, standing in the path she would need to cross if she wanted to reach her freedom.
Freedom that did not exist for her.
Leaning my back against a tree, I waited for the witchling to reach me. For the moment her hope dissipated into nothing. She’d unknowingly come to the perfect place for our final battle, a clearing where the sun drifted through the canopy of trees to illuminate the ground in soft sunshine and warmth. I enjoyed the feeling of it on my skin, the comfortable warmth that was so at odds with what this body remembered in Hell.
How long had it been since I truly felt the sun?
A figure appeared in the distance, walking toward me slowly as if she didn’t want me to hear her. She knew how keen the hearing of a Vessel was, but Willow had no understanding of my abilities in this form. She was very much a witch who liked to know her opponent before a battle, but in this, she knew nothing, and it showed in her awkward gait. She made far too
much noise as she stumbled through the autumn leaves on the forest floor, shuffling toward me. The changes in her body were evident with how she struggled, and I knew it would take her some time to learn to control her newfound strength and what that meant for completing the simplest of tasks.
If she wasn’t careful, she could crack her teeth when attempting to brush them. She could snap a pen when she simply tried to grab it.
It wasn’t until she walked into the sun shining through the trees above that I realized what the clever, deceptive little witch had done.
The creature, which was not my wife, had been crafted from fallen branches, and she’d somehow managed to bind them together, spelling them to shuffle forward on two tree stumps for legs. She’d tied grass to the head, mimicking her hair from a distance, but as the sun landed on it, it shared none of the shine of her deep raven tresses.
The noises I’d heard had been this thing stumbling through the woods without eyes to see, animated only by the blood she’d smeared along the bark to share her magic.
“Willow!” I yelled, spinning in the woods to listen for her as I swiped a hand through the wooded creature and sent it collapsing to the ground. I’d expected her to be lost to her anger, to fight back with panic and fury.
Instead, she’d met me with calm, lethal cunning.
She’d behaved as a Queen, when I’d still been expecting a girl.
Without the louder creature to distract me, I heard the much more quiet sounds of her moving through the woods. She’d gotten past me, approaching the edge of the woods on the opposite end far more quickly than I found tolerable.
I sprinted forward, racing through the woods as my own heart raced. Blood pumped in my veins more quickly than I ever remembered, so at odds with the way my body hadn’t had such functions when I’d been a Vessel. It wasn’t the physical activity that made my heart race but my blinding panic about what I would do if Willow left.
If she made it out, I’d have no choice but to honor my end of the bargain. I’d have no choice but to let her leave Crystal Hollow—to let her leave me.
It was unthinkable to go back to being alone in such a way.
I raced forward, colliding with her back and tackling her to the ground. Light shone through the trees that formed the treeline just ahead, her
freedom so close I could practically taste it.
Willow snarled as she struck the ground, throwing her head back into my face with a shriek of frustration. I felt the pain of that, the rage, echo through my bones.
She’d been so close. Too close.
My nose throbbed with what would have been a crushing blow to a human, or even a Vessel. The tingle of pain let me know just how harshly she’d struck. Her body trembled in my grasp, her fury making each and every one of her muscles tense as she prepared for the fight we both knew was inevitable.
I’d expected it, expected war when I caught her and tackled her into my arms.
I’d planned to be further from the treeline, seeking to toy with her more, to allow her the small victories that would make our battle all the more pleasurable. Especially for when I ultimately rolled her beneath me, tore her nightgown down the center, and fucked her in the dirt.
My cock hardened with the thought, twitching in my slacks. It had been so long since this body had felt the pleasure of a woman. Even if it had been satiated yesterday, my need for Willow would have overwhelmed it.
She thrust her arm behind her head, jabbing the knuckles of two bent fingers into my eye and forcing me back slightly. Her body twisted beneath me as her torso was freed, her teeth bared as she glared at me and bucked her hips.
Gripping her around the waist with one arm, I forced her to bend slightly. Tugging her up at the waist so that her ass raised toward me, I pressed against her as that black nightgown slid up her thighs and exposed the curve of her.
“Let go of me!” she screamed, continuing her struggle. It only shifted her nightgown higher, until the full swell of her ass was bare for me to see.
“We had a deal, Witchling,” I said, reminding her with a chuckle. I’d caught her, trapping her in my embrace even if she’d come close to escaping it. “Now, hold still so I can fuck you.”
“I am going to rip your cock off while you sleep and feed it to Beelzebub, you dick,” she snarled, twisting her body to try to free herself from my iron grip on her hip. I let my fingers slip lower, to the part of her that was bare beneath me. She flinched as my fingertips grazed the top of her slit, dipping in and circling her clit before dipping lower and teasing her
entrance. The involuntary movement of her hips that came next pressed her closer to the hard length of my cock in my pants rather than away, seeking out the pleasure only I could give her.
The first touch of her wet heat against my skin, and I found home. I would live in her pussy, live in the haven of her body for the rest of my days.
“You can yell and scream and curse me out all you want, but nothing will change the fact that you agreed to this. You chose this, and now?” I paused, dragging the wetness I’d gathered from her pussy and using it to apply the wet heat of my fingers to her clit. I leaned in, whispering the condemning words that showed just how well-suited she was to me. How dark and depraved her twisted little soul was, a soul I’d claimed as mine. “Now we both know just how much you’re going to like it.”
“If only the rest of you were as pleasant as your cock,” she growled, bringing a chuckle from me. She’d never even had this cock, only having been with me in my Vessel form. It didn’t seem natural for me to feel jealous of my other form, to possess feelings of rage that the other version of me had been inside her.
If it wasn’t a useless pile of mud now, I’d have killed it for knowing how she felt on the inside.
I dropped my hand to my pants, freeing myself as Willow squirmed beneath me. She stilled as I guided myself into the space between her thighs, gliding through them as she pressed them tightly together. I let her feel all of me as I slid through, touching her pussy and gliding through the wetness there until I bumped against her clit.
My hand dragged up to her nightgown as I thrust shallowly, tormenting her with what was to come. Even she couldn’t deny how much she wanted it, the tiny pulses of her moving with me were a stark reminder that even if she fought it, she knew it as well as I did.
I tore her nightgown down the back, craving her bare skin to trail my fingers over. I dragged them up her spine, taking far too much pleasure in the goosebumps that pebbled her skin in response to my touch.
“If my cock is my only redeeming quality,” I said, shoving her hair out of my way to wrap my fingers around the back of her neck. I used that grip to press her toward the ground, letting her turn her head in order to see her profile. I pinned her, holding her perfectly still as I shifted my hips and
drew back. “Then I expect you to spend most of your time sitting on it, wife.”
I drove forward, sinking inside her in a fast, hard thrust. She gasped, the sound getting louder as her lips parted and her eyes drifted closed. The groan that escaped me was torn from my soul as her gasp increased into a sharp whimper of pleasure, making me all the more determined to make her scream.
To permeate the forest with the sound of her pure, unrelenting pleasure. To make her feel exactly what I felt as it bolstered me, sliding up the ridge of my cock and up my spine, filling me with the sensation of her warmth. She was so fucking wet as I pulled back and drove deeper, spreading her open for me. The magic of our marital bond snapped into place with it finally consummated in truth, that warmth all-consuming.
Willow’s eyes flew open, a flash of black consuming them as it stole over her. That stare flashed to mine, shock and disbelief lurking beneath the black stain that marked her as mine. It faded eventually, returning her eyes to the mismatched gaze I’d fallen in love with as the magic sank into all the corners of her soul and body.
Still, she continued to hold my stare, a challenge in her gaze and her body tense. I pulled back, thrusting forward and fucking her quickly. Not because I wanted to rush my time with her, but because I couldn’t imagine anything else.
My need to fill her with my cum was undeniable. My need to watch it leak out of her swollen pussy like something I’d never known. And when I got her back to our room, I’d fuck her all over again and feel how wet she was when she was already filled with me.
“Gray,” she said, her whimper like music to my soul. It was the plea of a woman on the edge of oblivion, of a woman who couldn’t deny the orgasm coming to pull her under. I released her, pulling out of her as she leveled me with a glare.
“Take what you need, love,” I said, kneeling and waiting for her to move. I wanted there to be no doubt in her mind that she’d wanted this. I didn’t want her to be able to rewrite history to say that she’d been unwilling when I took her, and I knew her well enough to know she would attempt to deny the darkest part of herself that she wasn’t willing to come to terms with.
She wasn’t ready to dance with the monster beneath her skin. To acknowledge that while I might be the devil, she’d made her home in my soul and felt comfortable there.
She maneuvered to her knees, breathing deep and wholly focused as she stared at me. I was still fully clothed except for my open fly, and her passive stare trailing over me before it landed on my cock for the first time. She reached out with a single hand, shoving me backward with a force that managed to knock me over. I fell onto my back on the forest floor, shifting to get my legs to a natural angle as Willow stripped her ruined, torn nightgown off and stood. She strode over me, staring down at me, giving me a perfect, flawless view of her in all her glory.
She sank to her knees quickly, far too quickly for a human, and she seemed to realize it as she slowed in straddling my hips. She lifted just enough to slide her hand between us, putting my cock at the angle she needed so that she could lower herself onto it as her eyes drifted closed.
“Fucking Hell,” I groaned, grasping her by the hips as she started to move. The way she rode me was like a dance, a fluid roll of her hips back and a sharp snap forward to take me deep, grinding her clit against me with every movement.
She grabbed the sides of my shirt in each hand, yanking them apart so the buttons flew into the air, and she touched her bare hands to my chest for balance. She hesitated only momentarily when the handprint on my chest came into view, settling her hands down on top of it to block it from her view. It had healed somewhat, the bright red fading into a white scar. I hoped it never healed, that it stayed with me forever.
I watched her, holding off my own pleasure long enough to allow my wife to use me in a way I’d never thought to enjoy.
But I enjoyed everything that brought Willow pleasure.
“That’s it, love,” I murmured when she tossed her head back. Her nipples strained toward me, begging me to take them into my mouth and love them the way every bit of her deserved.
Later.
We had centuries together—an eternity for me to worship every part of
her.
She sought her release, the rolls of her hips becoming less rhythmic and
controlled. Her body turned to chaos as it consumed her, her whimpers threatening to make me cum. She went silent as the orgasm engulfed her,
her mouth dropping open in a soundless scream as the center of my chest burned.
Black filled my vision, shadows surrounding her hands where she touched me as she came. The burn was like nothing I’d ever felt, hotter than the flames of Hell themselves. The white scar tissue beneath her hands shifted, forming something new entirely—something unique.
She’d fucking marked me.
Knowing that she’d claimed me as her husband brought me more joy than it should have. Even though I knew it hadn’t been intentional, I couldn’t help the grin that stole over my face as I reached up and pulled her toward me. Sealing my lips to hers, I devoured her mouth as I flipped her to her back and hiked one of her legs high so that I could fuck her.
“Wicked little witch,” I said with a laugh, feeling her pussy tighten around me with every thrust. She was still in the lingering throes of her orgasm, her body spasming as I plowed into her as hard and as fast as I could manage.
“Fuck!” she screamed, the sound filling the deafening silence of the forest as I drove her toward a second orgasm right on the tail of the first. Her pussy clamped down on me, holding me prisoner and stealing the cum from my balls. I filled her in shallow pumps, roaring my own release as I bent toward her and bit her shoulder. There were no fangs to draw blood, and I missed the sensation of that part of her within me.
When I pulled back, the witchling’s gaze flicked to the circular maze of labyrinths she’d imprinted on my chest.
Hecate’s maze marred my skin; the mark of my necromancer wife burned into my flesh like a brand.
Willow swallowed, staring up at me as she floundered for words. “You’re mine now, Willow Morningstar.”
