Wicked (The Desirable Witches)

By AC Arthur

How wicked can they be?

Touch Me, Please Me
Novelist, Cedric Compton is in the town of Mystic for one purpose only—to meet his second extended deadline. The key to making that happen is completing his research on the myth of the Desirable Witches. But when he knocks on the door of one of the reputed witches and the beautiful Sahara answers, the last thing on Cedric’s mind is work.
Sahara Baker takes her role as protector of the Mystic vector very seriously. She’s also not ashamed of acting on the insatiable desire bestowed upon her kind, so inviting the handsome writer into her bed is natural—keeping him out of her world and her heart is a little more complicated.

Tease Me, Take Me
Kitaka “Kit” Valentine is a Desirable witch with the power of vision. When she receives a premonition of danger that warns “they will come in twos,” she’s ready to act. She had no way of knowing that the two she hunted would introduce her to the two that would be her salvation.
Jack and Rad are business partners and best friends. Meeting Kit opens a door to more than just a magical world neither of them knew existed; it breaches the surface of the deep, dark sexual hunger that could destroy them all.

Teach Me, Love Me
Melody McCain is about to learn she cannot run from her destiny—whether that’s acknowledging she’s part of a powerful group of witches, or accepting that she’s part of a relationship more passionate and rewarding than she could have ever imagined.
Terrell Chase is game for joining his friend and teammate, Sean Brinkley for a week-long getaway, especially when Sean informs Terrell that his girlfriend, Melody, will be there too. What begins as a road to seduction quickly shifts into a battle to save not only their lives, but the lives of everyone in the vector left unguarded by a Desirable witch.

Publisher’s Note:
(a)Touch Me, Please Me & Tease Me, Take Me were previously published under my pen name Sapphire Blue. Some new material has been added to these stories.
(b)Teach Me, Love Me was also previously titled Melody’s Men and published under my pen name, Sapphire Blue. This story has been completely re-written and extended so that the plot, characters and ending have changed.
Please note that this book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and
situations that some readers may find objectionable: Female/female sexual interaction, f/f/m ménage, anal play/intercourse, male/male sexual practices, m/m/f ménage.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AC Arthur
• Release date: Feb 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781732304574

AC Arthur

AC Arthur was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland where she currently resides with her husband, three children, two grandchildren and an English bulldog named Vader. An active imagination and a love for reading encouraged her to begin writing in high school and she hasn’t stopped since.Working in the legal field for over twenty-five years, AC has seen lots of horrific things and longs for the safe haven of a romance novel. To date, she has written in several genres: YA paranormal (w/a Artist Arthur), small town romance as Lacey Baker, and sexy contemporary and paranormal romance. With intriguing plots and sexy love scenes, AC brings a new edge to romance!

Book preview

Wicked

Wicked

The Desirable Witches

A.C. Arthur

Contents

Wicked

Foreword

Touch Me, Please Me

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Tease Me, Take Me

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Teach Me, Love Me

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Also by A.C. Arthur

About the Author

An Artistry Publishing Book

WICKED,

First Edition: 2019

Copyright © 2019 by A.C. Arthur

All rights reserved.

TOUCH ME, PLEASE ME,

Copyright © 2019 by A.C. Arthur

First Edition: 2007, Second Edition: 2019

TEASE ME, TAKE ME,

Copyright © 2019 A.C. Arthur

First Edition: 2010, Second Edition: 2019

TEACH ME, LOVE ME,

Copyright © 2019 A.C. Arthur

First Edition: 2019

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www.acarthur.net

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Cover Art Design © 2019 by Croco Designs

All rights reserved. This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, locations, events and incidents (in either a contemporary and/or historical setting) are products of the author’s imagination and are being used in an imaginative manner as a part of this work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, settings or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Wicked

Desirable Witches

How wicked can they be?

Touch Me, Please Me

Novelist, Cedric Compton is in the town of Mystic for one purpose only—to meet his second extended deadline. The key to making that happen is completing his research on the myth of the Desirable Witches. But when he knocks on the door of one of the reputed witches and the beautiful Sahara answers, the last thing on Cedric’s mind is work.

Sahara Baker takes her role as protector of the Mystic vector very seriously. She’s also not ashamed of acting on the insatiable desire bestowed upon her kind, so inviting the handsome writer into her bed is natural—keeping him out of her world and her heart is a little more complicated.

Tease Me, Take Me

Kitaka Kit Valentine is a Desirable witch with the power of vision. When she receives a premonition of danger that warns they will come in twos, she’s ready to act. She had no way of knowing that the two she hunted would introduce her to the two that would be her salvation.

Jack and Rad are business partners and best friends. Meeting Kit opens a door to more than just a magical world neither of them knew existed; it breaches the surface of the deep, dark sexual hunger that could destroy them all.

Teach Me, Love Me

Melody McCain is about to learn she cannot run from her destiny—whether that’s acknowledging she’s part of a powerful group of witches, or accepting that she’s part of a relationship more passionate and rewarding than she could have ever imagined.

Terrell Chase is game for joining his friend and teammate, Sean Brinkley for a week-long getaway, especially when Sean informs Terrell that his girlfriend, Melody, will be there too. What begins as a road to seduction quickly shifts into a battle to save not only their lives, but the lives of everyone in the vector left unguarded by a Desirable witch.

Dear Reader,

I am happy to finally be able to share the Desirable Witches with you again. For some of you this may be a re-release and for others it will be your first taste of these dynamic women!

There are three novellas included in this book:

Touch Me, Please Me & Tease Me, Take Me were previously published under my pen name Sapphire Blue. Some new material has been added to these stories.

Teach Me, Love Me was also previously titled Melody’s Men and published under my pen name, Sapphire Blue. This story has been completely re-written and extended so that the plot, characters and ending have changed.

Please note that this book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Female/female sexual interaction, f/f/m ménage, anal play/intercourse, male/male sexual practices, m/m/f ménage.

This is not the start of a new series, just something that I wanted to share with my readers who may not have had the chance to experience a Sapphire Blue book. I hope you love it!

Happy Reading,

ac

Touch Me, Please Me

formerly published as Sapphire Blue

Novelist, Cedric Compton is in the town of Mystic for one purpose only—to meet his second extended deadline. The key to making that happen is completing his research on the myth of the Desirable Witches. But when he knocks on the door of one of the reputed witches and the beautiful Sahara answers, the last thing on Cedric’s mind is work.

Sahara Baker takes her role as protector of the Mystic vector very seriously. She’s also not ashamed of acting on the insatiable desire bestowed upon her kind, so inviting the handsome writer into her bed is natural—keeping him out of her world and her heart is a little more complicated.

1

He smelled her—the tangy scent of hot, mortal blood, running briskly through the veins. She was late. He’d almost thought she wasn’t coming. Patience was not one of his virtues. Still, he knew that things of this world were drastically different than in his.

The brush was an excellent spot. He doubted any of these mortals even realized there was a clearing dead center. A perfect circle with the energy of untapped magic. He stood in that center, absorbing the energy, the power, anticipating the moment when it would run through his veins. His heart thumped wildly in his mortal chest—as the thought of absolute power grew, tantalizing him with its enormity.

Her feet made crunching sounds over the fallen leaves and twigs. She was closer. He inhaled and straightened, ready and waiting.

Sheila Tompkins walked briskly down the old dirt road leading to her house. She’d worked the late shift at the pub and was so tired her toes were beginning to feel numb.

It was a warm night, the air thick with summer’s breath. Above, the sky was deep indigo with no stars in sight. The streets of Mystic were quiet at this time of night, most of the townsfolk lounging on their open porches after a satisfying meal or already in bed resting up for tomorrow’s work. Mystic was a picturesque town with great citizens and fanciful legends.

Sheila didn’t believe much about the legends except that they were everlasting. Her grandfather used to tell her stories of creatures in the night being attacked by women of great beauty—women with great powers. A descendant of those women was reputed to still live in town. Sheila thought of Sahara Baker as she continued walking, her purse swinging from her shoulder. Reaching up, she pulled the band that held her dark red hair in place and sighed. For the last hour of her shift her temples had been throbbing. Removing the band gave her a small measure of relief. Getting home and in bed as quickly as possible would be her saving grace.

The dirt road turned in two different directions, and Sheila always took the one that curved around the patch of dense trees. During the day, those trees provided shade and coolness to passersby, while at night they exuded that eerie sense of magic that made Mystic famous.

The soft sole of her sneakers crunched over the rocky path and as she began to hum a song she’d heard earlier in the day. With blinding quickness a hand shot out of the trees, grabbing Sheila’s left arm and pulling her into the natural green shelter. Sheila readied herself to scream, but the sound died as her mouth was quickly covered.

In less than three minutes her hands and feet were tied, her mouth gagged. A sparkling silver blade connected with the cloth of her dress, cutting the yellow fabric away from her body. Her eyes bulged with fear until thick tears spilled over the rims.

Do not be afraid of your destiny. His voice was raspy coming from the body of an older man who had been traveling on the intersection alone. It wasn’t his best pick but he was in a hurry and it didn’t matter, for this part of his plan, any mortal would do.

She was naked now, and he looked down at her body. He was not so far gone that he could not appreciate a feminine form. A woman’s body aroused the same in this place as in his. Hers was not overly abundant but did arouse him to the point that he was extending the mortal hand, rubbing the calloused palm over her nipple. Even though tears streamed down her face in fear, her nipples hardened as if she were aroused. He felt a trickle of sweat on his brow and licked his lips.

With a wave of his free hand, a stick moved to an upright position and traced along the ground of the clearing, a perfect five-point symmetry. He wanted to continue touching her, feeling this fresh wave of desire just before the kill, but knew he did not have much time. From below he heard the rumbling, the anger of the phantoms growing with his hesitation.

Laying her in the center of the symmetrical drawing he stretched her arms and, with a blink of his eyes, drove thick nails through her hands and into the ground. She screamed and his adrenaline flowed. The smell of her blood was rich, filling the air and then his lungs. After spreading her legs wide, he staked her feet in the same fashion, reveling in each of her muffled cries. His adrenaline overflowed as he stared down at her body, the sight of her arms and legs touching the points of the pentacle drowning him with satisfaction.

Of their own accord, the mortal eyes moved up the length of her legs to her opening. As if in worship, he dropped to his knees, sweat pouring from his brow. Leaning closer, he touched his nose to the soft curls of her center and inhaled deeply. The scent of her dewy folds caused his sex to twitch and harden with anticipation. It was more than arousing, more than intoxicating. It did not matter, it was not enough. The ground began to shake, trees that stretched straight up to the darkness swayed with the tremoring earth. The mortal body he was inside of shook as power rose from deep within. He had to act quickly, had to finish this before it was too late. He would not lose this time, not again. With the trembling mortal fingers he gripped the knife, raised the arm and plunged it deeply into her flesh.

Candlelight flickered throughout Sahara’s bedroom. She was home, in the old house her ancestors had resided in. And it was comforting. It was her safe haven, the salve to heal all her wounds. It was spacious with its five rooms on each level and drafty old windows and wooden floors. But it was home, and there was no place she’d rather be.

Especially not tonight. She’d just stepped out of the shower and was dripping water across the carpet as she made her way to her dresser. An array of colorful bottles sat on the glossy black surface. Tilting her head, she surveyed them, trying to decide which one to choose. A spell would be simpler, she thought. Chant a few words and instantly feel better, but tonight she needed more.

Her mind was too cluttered to think straight. Reluctantly she recounted the events of the last few hours in an attempt to expel the stressful elements.

His name was Blake. Blake the Flake, she thought cynically. He was a perfect package—tall, dark, and dangerously handsome. His body was tight and promised a pleasurable night. That’s why she went to dinner with him. The fact that he’d not only felt her bare knee beneath the table during dinner, but had also walked his fingers up her inner thigh to press between her already damp folds and fingered her, was an even better sign.

Too bad it was short-lived.

They’d left the restaurant and headed straight to Blake’s apartment because Sahara never took a man to her house. Her home was sacred and being alone after she was satisfied was simpler when she could just walk out the door. The moment Blake had touched her, things took a drastic turn for the worse. First, he’d kissed her, his thick tongue all but devouring the lower portion of her face. Then he’d ripped off her clothes, another no-no in Sahara’s book. Her clothes were expensive and carefully selected. She was not at all pleased by the sound of the buttons of her fuchsia silk blouse hitting the floor. If not for the anticipation of an explosive climax she would have left him standing there panting.

It was the panting that made her stay. Normally able to suppress her powers when needed, the moment she put her hands on Blake’s bare chest his mind opened to her. His desire for her was frantic, a mist of positions, tongues, and moans. He’d watched her in her store for weeks, daydreaming of how many times he’d take her, all thoughts that—thanks to her emphatic powers—drove Sahara’s lust straight through the roof.

Sliding her hands down his chest, she undid the buckle of his pants then watched as they slipped down his muscled thighs to land in a heap at his ankles. He was hard and ready for her. Just gazing at his erection gave her visions of him slipping inside of her, pounding into her until her body was about to erupt. That was how she preferred her sex: hot, fast, and explosive.

With hurried fingers she rid Blake of the rest of his clothes, ready to get this party started. Blake pushed her onto the sofa, lifted her legs, and propped her ankles up on his shoulders, then touched that long, delectable shaft to her throbbing opening. Sahara was so ready for an explosive release and to cry out in ecstasy… But wait, was she actually crying out in ecstasy already, he hadn’t even put it in? Oh. Hell. No! Opening her eyes, she’d seen Blake with his head thrown back, his face contorted in what Sahara realized was a pitifully premature ejaculation.

If it weren’t for the high priestesses who frowned upon using power in front of mortals, Sahara would have snapped her clothes on and transported herself home. Instead, she’d dressed normally, but in record time, not giving Blake a chance to conjure some pathetic excuse, and drove home.

Not by magic, but welcomed just the same, the release of that stressful ordeal made the headache that had been building at her temples disappear. Sahara rolled her shoulders, closed her eyes, and reached out. A bottle floated into her hands and when she opened her eyes to see that it was the purple one, she smiled. Lilac was her absolute favorite for soothing. Her calming colors had always been pastels, so she kept all her fragrances in colored bottles on her dresser.

Moving back across the room, Sahara paused to lift a black box from beneath her bed. Setting the bottle on her nightstand, she removed the top and watched as a stream of smoke rose into the air, blanketing the room with its scent. She inhaled deeply, then sat on the bed, stretching her legs and resting her head on the mountain of pillows. With her right hand she flipped the latch on the black box and, without looking, chose the exact tool she’d been searching for.

It was pure onyx, shining like a black lollipop in her hand. Holding it above her face, Sahara licked her lips as she imagined locking the long phallus inside her mouth. She’d made it herself, molded it and detailed it exactly the way she wanted and had aptly named it Onyx. Onyx never let her down. It served its purpose time and time again.

Sahara was a Desirable. One of a long line of influential and stunning witches with an insatiable sex drive that would put porn stars to shame. She was promiscuous without guilt, beautiful as sin, and ready on command. She was also a powerful protector with a heart of gold. Sex was a welcome incentive. Yet tonight she’d been left high and dry.

With her right hand Sahara slipped her fingers between her legs and sighed. "Maybe not high and dry." She smiled.

The lips of her labia were plump and damp with her essence. With two fingers she held them open, let the cool air hit her hot center. Her legs lifted until her feet were planted on the mattress. Then she plunged not one, not two, but three fingers into her hot core. With a gasp she moved her hips to deepen the penetration. Her nipples hardened. With her other hand she rubbed Onyx over breasts, loving the feel of the coolness against her heated flesh.

In and out her hand moved, her fingers drenched with her excitement. She felt it building, her own pleasure, like a flicker of light starting in the pit of her stomach. She moved Onyx past her breasts until the toy tapped her chin. She opened her mouth and pushed it inside. Deeper and deeper she took her perfect pleasure, suckling the head tightly between her lips.

She writhed on the bed, the scent of lilac permeating her senses. She was so full, so needy, so close…yet it wasn’t enough.

On a ragged moan she slipped Onyx from her mouth and moved it down to her throbbing center. Removing her fingers, she slipped Onyx into the heat. Pushing it further, she cried out the moment she felt the cool testicles at her base. It--all eight and a half inches—was inside of her. She clenched her teeth in excitement, then pulled Onyx back until it was almost completely out of her, then thrust it back inside. Over and over she repeated this motion until her body shook with extreme pleasure.

This was the part she loved, the point she was always running to. It was euphoria that beat all things magical. It was a light so strong, so blinding, and so pleasing that at times she felt like crying. A weightlessness that kept her hovering just at the door of heaven. She was a witch, and yet this was the most primal power she could ever possess.

And like the shallow ice on a pond beneath an anxious skater, it was shattered with a piercing scream.

Simultaneously, as if the scream weren’t interruption enough, there was a persistent pounding on her door.

Sahara wanted to yell in frustration. Instead, she grabbed a pillow from behind her and threw it across the room. Can this night get any worse? she heard herself asking before the person at the door grew more insistent.

Cedric Compton was tired. His flight had been delayed and his bags lost. He’d checked into the Mystic Harbour, where he was staying at a fellow author’s condo for the next few weeks. He probably should have grabbed a bite to eat and crashed for the night. But he was too pumped to sleep.

The moment he stepped off the plane he’d felt it. The burst of energy, the unknown and yet familiar.

Cedric was a best-selling novelist, his books at the top of the fantasy genre. His editor and agent loved him but didn’t hesitate to tighten the noose after he’d already offered excuses for twice missing his deadlines. After ten years of writing and researching mythical beings, paranormal occurrences, ghosts, witches, and so much more, Cedric was sad to say he was stumped. His new book needed an element, something he wasn’t sure how to infuse. He’d researched and planned until he’d thought he had his world and his characters down to a science, but as he read the pages stored on his laptop, he felt there was still something missing.

He’d read about Sahara Baker’s kind in the many books he’d purchased. Rather, he’d read about the Desirables, an elite coven of witches who were super fine and super good in bed. Could there be anything better than a magical body in your bed? He’d quickly shaken off that thought. He couldn’t imagine being intimate with a woman that powerful, no matter how good she looked.

In his current project there was a power, an evil that Cedric could not accurately explain. There was also a mortal element he felt was missing. He hoped by interviewing a real, live witch, he could get a better sense of what he needed to add to complete his story. That’s why he was at her house at this time of night, raising his fist and pounding on the door again.

She was home. He’d seen the lights upstairs while he’d sat in his car for the past