Magic Matched: Betrothed


In witching society, magic and politics are the only things that matter, and marriages are arranged for advantage rather than love.

But neither Ileana Lovasz nor Eliasz Levy are looking for love. Humiliated by a string of broken betrothals, Ileana only wants freedom from her manipulative grandfather. Eliasz simply wants an alliance with Ileana’s brother Silviu, a man rising through the witching ranks. That is, until the Lovasz woman arrives at his home and stirs up emotions he’d never thought to feel.

Silviu has bigger things on his mind than his sister’s marriage. Georgeanne Davenold, Silviu’s betrothed and the key to his rise in power, is back in his life after a ten year separation that left her distrustful of his intentions. Their union is a novelty, spanning the divide between Matriarchal and Patriarchal Families. Their union is also alarming, combining the influence and magic of two witches only heard of in myth and legend.

Ileana, Eliasz, Silviu and Georgie must build an alliance that will help them all get what they want but, with too many lies and too many enemies, the game they’re playing turns deadly. When the two women come under attack, neither Silviu nor Eliasz knows which is the target. They only know they will protect the women their hearts have claimed as their own, even though that means defying the traditions of witching society, risking every goal they hold dear and confronting the dangerous members of their own families.

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“Georgeanne Davenold is now old enough for me to do exactly as I wish to her, without her Family’s interference.”

Vasile stared at his son for a long moment, leaving Silviu feeling weighed and measured, evaluated in a way he’d grown used to, years before. It still wasn’t easy to keep calm under the silver stare.

“Don’t lose your head, my boy. This isn’t some female to take without consideration.”

Silviu hefted a brow. “I’ve never had any complaints.”

Vasile scowled. “You put your damned heart on your sleeve and you’ll lose every advantage you’re likely to gain with that girl. She’s been molded in Madeleine’s image. Do not underestimate her.”

“That’s exactly what you want, Father. A woman as strong as Madeleine. Her entire life has been arranged by you for that very reason. She was always meant to be Madeleine’s second reign.”

“And your first, but she’s your weakness,” Vasile spat, abruptly leaning forward in his chair. One rigid finger drilled into his desktop, emphasizing his point. “I don’t know what the hell it is about her, but I could see it the moment you met. Do not jeopardize all we’ve worked toward for a female who will never allow you to be her weakness. She has her own agenda and, with the sole exception of that Beltane night, she’s never given us any reason to think she would be willing to put it aside to please you!”

Surprise held Silviu for a breathless moment, a hideous vulnerability sweeping over him at how easily his father had read him. He cleared his throat with effort. “We both want to lead the covens. What makes you think her agenda wouldn’t match mine, if properly explained to her?”

“You won’t win the heart of a matriarchal female,” Vasile countered. “You’re too…male, for any of them. So, don’t even bother to try.”

Silviu hid the fear spearing through him by slouching back in his chair, a deliberate insouciance that was all that ever truly fooled his father. “I know. It’s a political alliance, not a love match.”

Vasile lost some of the tension in his shoulders. “Only Georgeanne can unlock your full potential, only she can provide a conduit for all the magic that should rightfully be yours. Together, you could join the Families, power from both sides of the Schism. Just think! You will rule with your combined power over all the covens.”

“Just as you wanted, Father.”

With one last searching glance, Vasile shifted back in his chair, a crafty gleam sparkling in the depths of the eyes he finally turned on his daughter. “Eliasz wants you.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she scoffed. “He doesn’t even know me.”

Vasile shook his head. “There is no earthly reason why the powerful Levys would want to ally themselves with our Family except Eliasz’s lust. We aren’t politically relevant.”

“But that will change,” Silviu said.

“Yes, but no one in the Levy Family knows the extent of my plans.” Vasile raised a brow at Ileana. “You will do everything in your power to keep Eliasz’s attention and win his heart. Do you understand me?”

Ileana’s eyes went wide. “Throwing me into Eliasz’s bed, then?”

Vasile pointedly eyed the tiny skirt riding high on his daughter’s thighs. “Are you going to tell me you’re a virgin?”

“I won’t tell you anything on the matter at all, Father.” Ileana cocked her head. “What makes you think this time will be any different from before? Grandfather is going to find some reason to pull back from this alliance.”

Vasile’s hard face went rigid. A low growl ripped from his throat. “The old fool has no idea how much he’s cost this Family. He is the reason we have no power in the witching world, but so long as he wields the magic of our bloodline we have no weapon strong enough to bring him down.”

“We need this alliance,” Silviu said, turning to take Ileana’s cold fingers and squeezing gently. He tried to give her comfort, hope. For so long, they’d been each other’s support in the face of their Family’s machinations. “The Levys are no joke, Iley. This one will go through.”

“You can’t promise that,” she argued.

“We’ll do our best.” Vasile rapped his knuckles against his desktop. “But you’ll have to do your part, girl. Wrap that man around your finger. I know you can do it. You can be very charming when you put your mind to it. People naturally like you.”

“Convince him to elope with me, perhaps?”

“If need be, yes.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Silviu glanced at his sister, the sudden calmness in her voice sounding alarms in his skull. She only used that tone when she was about to challenge the archaic, patriarchal rules they were forced to live by.

Vasile seemed unaware as he moved on to his favorite subject—intrigue. “Now, as for the meeting with the Levys, I will expect very specific things from both of you.”

It was nearly the witching hour before they were given permission to leave their father’s presence, lectures and orders still ringing in Silviu’s ears. When he slipped out into the cold hallway, he shut the study door behind him carefully, calmly and with complete control.

Only then did he lean back against the wall, close his eyes and let a shudder born of too many emotions to fully contain roll through him. Tension and intrigue fell from his shoulders, making him feel half his weight, now that his father’s focused gaze was no longer resting on him.

“Now’s your chance, Silver,” Ileana whispered.

He nodded. “And yours. We will both be bolder than we’ve ever dared before.”

“I’ll give it everything I have,” she promised.

Dragging in a deep breath, gathering his cracking armor of calm around him once more, Silviu set off toward his bedroom, making his own plans for Georgeanne Davenold that had nothing to do with politics, and everything to do with pleasure.

Totally Bound

On My Knees

I fell to my knees before him and reached for his belt. Teasing myself as much as him, I slowly unbuckled it, letting the leather slide through my hands as I let it slide through his belt loops. He sat in the chair, legs spread and eyes hungry, watching as I stared up at him and freed his cock.

Slowly the zipper came down. I didn’t look at what I revealed until I’d delved under the denim, found his thick length and pulled it out. Then I looked.

Big enough to stretch any woman, flushed with need, flexing with excitement. My pussy pulsed and my mouth watered.

I licked up his length, tasting his anticipation, smelling his unique scent. He was manly and musky, the skin of his cock soft against my wet tongue. Reaching the wide crest, I opened my lips and sucked him in.

His nostrils quivered, he inhaled deeply. His hungry eyes darkened as they watched my mouth stretch over his cock. I snuck the flat of my tongue down, pushing past my own lips to lap at him, sucking his dick’s head like a lollipop before pulling back to lick some more.

Wrapping my hand around him, I squeezed and stroked, making up for the inches I couldn’t swallow. But I tried. I drove down on him until his cock met my throat, and I swallowed hard until I knew the incremental movements had become its own caress against the very tip.

He tried to buck, he tried to arch. But he couldn’t. I’d made sure of it. I was free to play – licking and stroking, sucking and swallowing. Torturing him until his thighs were granite and a fine tension infused his spine. His muffled grunts made me wet with my own power.

I worked his cock until he was close, so very close. Hot in my mouth, pulse thrumming against my tongue, I could feel his orgasm crawling closer and backed off. Slowly, with a teasing flick of my tongue over the salty slit at his tip.

With the gag in his mouth, he couldn’t return the pleasure yet, but that was okay because the unavailability only made me hotter. I knew what it felt like to have his mouth on me, his lips closing around my clit, his tongue thrusting into my pussy. The memories made me wetter – wet enough to straddle his rigid cock and push my pussy down, just on the crest, stretching just the delicate ring of muscle at my entrance.

My legs shook, but I held my awkward stance, feet on the floor, legs spread over his, my weight nowhere close to being on his lap. I lowered my hips a fraction of an inch, taking him just into my body.

He wriggled in his chair, but with his wrists bound behind him and his ankles secured to the sturdy legs, there was little he could do to speed me up. He’d have his turn later, and just the thought of what he’d do then had my pussy creaming around him and flexing hard. His muffled grunt escaped the gag.

I lowered another inch and lifted back up. I worked the same two inches of his cock with my pussy over and over, until my thighs ached and my juices ran down his shaft. His eyes were glued to the sight, darkening ever more as I gushed around his crest, as I pulsed my body over his, bouncing on him, not nearly deep enough.

But I would not lower myself any farther. Not with the heat racing around my entrance with a tingling pleasure. Not with the anticipation of full penetration making my whole pussy quiver in need. I loved the feel of his thick cock just barely inside me, stretching me without filling me, making me want so much more while I denied myself.

His eyes promised retribution, and I almost came wondering what he’d do. He felt it, the ripple inside me that had my inner walls clamping down and dancing around his intrusion, trying to reject my will and suck him deep. His hips lifted from the chair, but he couldn’t go far, and I rode his rise like a boat on the ocean.

He growled, I laughed. I bounced on his cock a little harder and lifted my hands to my breasts, pulling at my aching nipples until a flash of pain curled through me and instantly morphed into pleasure. I held his eyes as I played with myself, tugging my nipples, thumbing them, but his gaze kept flicking between what my hands were doing above, and what my pussy was doing below.

I felt my pleasure leap higher and I let it come. I let it wash through me in a gentle shower, rising up my spine and drifting through my belly. It wasn’t enough, but I didn’t think my teasing would be. He’d send me soaring later, when it was his turn to tease, his turn to fuck.

I fucked him soft, and he fucked me hard. That was the game we loved.

My pussy convulsed around his crest, sucking it, drenching it. The tension in his body elevated, a tendon stood out on his neck in a tell-tale sign of orgasm. His hips lifted again but I forced my legs straight, pulling off him completely. A hot pulse of cum splashed my clit and tempted me to sink back down, to take him hard and deep and ride him until I screamed.

But it was his turn, so I reveled in the heat of his release, in the thick drips that fell from me to him. And then I untied him, denying the shaking in my fingers, denying the need cramping my belly and the new flood of moisture from my pussy.

Once freed, his hunger took on fresh life. His belt wrapped my neck and cinched just shy of tight, the gag was put in place. Using the ties from his wrists, he caught my own, securing my hands behind my back, and urged me down. Once again on my knees, I followed his directions with complete submission, bending over as he knelt behind me and shoved his tongue in my pussy.

I writhed and wriggled, bounced and moaned. But he teased me as I teased him. My torture had begun, and it would be hours before he slayed me with full release.