The Witch's Devil

Chapter 26, Downhill

Ember's POV~

Waking up the next morning, groaning with annoyance. The alarm I set blaring out a rooster crow. Knowing all too well that with it comes a new day. A day of books, coffee, pastries, and customers. My head feels like a jackhammer hitting against concrete. Small beams of light breaking in between the cracks of curtains— utterly painful.

Blodiga helvete, mitt allt är tömt. {Bloody hells, my everything is drained.}

Grumbling in drowsy misery I reach for my phone, only to find it's just barely out of reach for my fingertips. For I was waking up to sparks tingling across my skin. A pleasant trap by the devil in my bed, whose body lays curled around mine like a weighted blanket. His arms holding on as though I was his sole life source. Even in his sleep gentle snores tickle the back of my neck. Our naked bodies are comfortably hot.

New sensations I've become accustomed to in no time at all. Lifting a hand up over my head. I am met by a set of horns. While I ever-so gently run my fingers through his long black locks. My nails softly scratch along his scalp with care.

It's as if a cat was giving human form.

Unable to contain my quiet giggle. This mere action alone lifted the corners of my smile up. He buries his nose into my neck. Nuzzling sweetly, fighting the call to wake. Well most of him that is— anyways. Giggling softly all while pleasantly receiving taps. A bit further down into my sheets, Alastor's cock grows between us. Twitching against my rump and lower back a head without thought. Only driven by its own desire.

Wiggling my hips in a circular motion. Teasing his shaft playfully til I felt his arms hugged me tighter. "Wakey, wakey sleepy head."

"Isn't there a rule about waking a sleeping beast, little witch." His hushed gravel tone sends a mischievous smile to my lips.

Soft nips going up my neck. "Oh— I don't know," teasing hisses, my heart began to beat like a drum, "maybe it's a long lost passage." Chuckling, wiggling with a little more enthusiasm. "I am innocent, I swear."

"Completely innocent I'm sure," he nips on my neck whispering into my ear, "little succubus more like it."

"Ooh," I coo, "I like that name." Heart beating against its cage. Hard, fast, loud. As though it would break out of my chest. "What could be a punishment for a bit of harmless wiggling?"

When his hot breath kissed my earlobe. A low animalistic growl rumbled through him. Sending my nerves alight with excitement. Goosebumps spread across my skin like wildfire. My flowering core burns to feel his embrace.

"Good morning to you too, my little witch," Alastor whispers with seduction. That deep voice, always an octave lower first thing in the morning.

I loved it.

His nails gently skimmed up along my stomach. Taking a breast into his firm grasp. Massaging with an addictive roughness. The budding peak playfully pinched and twisted in between his index and middle fingers.

Through it all the emotions calm to a simmer. Thoughts of yesterday vanish into a fog. As Alastor plays me like an instrument.

"You have become my drug little witch. What am I to do?" Asking with a dominant voice.

A whimper slips from my lips. Throbbing ache in my core burns hotter. "Surprise me," I whisper into a quiet moan.

Alerting to my enjoyment while my nectar starts to flow. Alastor teases me farther by placing his cock nicely between my thighs. Pressing up against my flower, sandwiched between my thighs. Pulling my bottom lip with my teeth.