The Italian restaurant wasn’t quite as small as I imagined it. The store front might have been admittedly a bit small and the first floor not that spacious, but the atmosphere was really agreeable, jolly even. We followed a waiter upstairs and I was surprised to find out that the 2nd floor’s dining room was noticeably bigger. There were only 3 couples already eating and that made the atmosphere somehow more intimate the dimmed lights played their part well too.
It was love at first sight and I was sure I would be revisiting many, many times.
“So, what’s she like?” I asked as soon as we had sat at our table and the waiter had left us with the menus, “The Oracle, I mean.”
“Is that all we’re gonna talk about?” How he managed to sound half annoyed, half amused was beyond me.
“Hey, you brought her up,” despite my defensive tone, I was impossibly excited to know more about her and I could barely keep still.
The Oracle was a legend, had only one apprentice and no child of her own, not to mention that very few witches got to meet her. Needless to say, she was shrouded in mystery. When I had searched for information regarding her a few years back, there was close to none.
“Okay, okay,” he raised his hands in defeated surrender, a small smirk tugging at his lips, his eyes twinkling in amusement, “what do you wanna know?”
“Everything you can tell me,” I flashed him my most encouraging smile while mentally begging him with my best puppy dog eyes.
“Well, she lives in Canada, in a small cabin in the mountains.” He stopped as the waiter came to take our order and then carried on with his little tale.
By the end of it, I had not learnt much really but it was still better than what I had managed to find out at the age of 12. The Oracle only took a request every decade from the same person. And, even then, she would ask them to do something in return beforehand… and one should always expect the unexpected with her requests.
Jonathan had had to accept, the first time he went, the role of her guinea pig in some mind-control spell she had devised. Naturally, to relinquish such control, they had to make a blood contract in which it was stipulated that she wouldn’t, in any way or form, make him do something that went against the well-being of the werewolf community, or that went against any supernatural or human law. And all he got in compensation was to learn that I was a witch.
When I let him know I felt like he didn’t get much, he defended her. Clairvoyance abilities weren’t easy and using the blood of someone to find out something about their mates was by no way easy. I found myself agreeing with that. No normal witch could do that, clairvoyance ability or not.
He also explained that knowing his mate was alive, and neither a werewolf nor a vampire, had made it slightly easier for him. Not all supernatural beings got that kind of clues in their search for their mates, no matter how much it was needed. And werewolves needed it most since, according to their laws, they had to be mated by the age of 100 true mate or not.
The second time, she had only requested he found a special spider and bring it to her alive.
Okay, I do not wanna know what she did with it. Repulsion filled me as I absolutely could not stand the idea of going anywhere near those creepy eight-legged creatures. Dead? Maybe. But, alive? No way in hell would I ever make a potion or use a spell that would require them living and kicking.
The lengths he had had to go through to find out I was a witch and I attended high school made me like his perseverance in his search for me.
“Now, my turn,” he said excitedly when I no longer asked for anything, rubbing his hands together in caricature-like delight, making me giggle. “God, I love that sound.” I heard him mutter just as the waiter placed the two fuming hot pizzas in front of us.
“So, what can you tell me about yourself?” Seeing as the pizza was rather untouchable at the moment, it was no wonder we were still playing twenty questions.
I pondered on what to share for a moment and then just let go, saying the first thing that came to my mind, “Well, I’ve been on a few dates, but I’ve never had a real boyfriend.” His eyes narrowed at that and I realized it might have not been the best bit of information to start with.
Tsk, it’s not like he’s an innocent virgin, I mentally rolled my eyes at his possessive ways and then carried on, “I’ve never gotten drunk and I don’t intend to in the future, ever… and I only went to a club once.”
“Why the no-drinking policy?” He sounded really curious and I could understand where he was coming from. It wasn’t everyday someone my age told you they didn’t like the idea of getting wasted.
“Werewolves and vampires can hold their liquor, us witches are just human, you know,” I started in a rather flat tone as he took his first bite of pizza. He gave me a thumb up to tell me it was okay to dive in, “I get into enough trouble as it is, no?” I smirked playfully.
“That you do,” he immediately agreed, narrowing his eyes at me but there was no heat to his glare and there was a smirk that betrayed his mirth.
Was it normal that every little thing he did seemed unique? How could a simple smirk look so sexy? Better yet, how could his eyes have so much hold on me? I hadn’t been able to look him in the eyes as he had told me about The Oracle, they were too distracting.
Damn the mate bond and damn his eyes! Even the mental curse wasn’t all that. It came out as purr as a matter of fact. If even my snarky side was getting overwhelmed, it did not bode well.
Just dig in, girl.
I grabbed a slice and bit into it. Seconds later, I was moaning at the taste. It had to be, hands down, the best pizza I ever had even more reason to come back again. As I heard Jonathan’s unexpected low growl, I snapped my eyes open in fear.
What’s going on? I turned my head around frantically, dumbly looking for a threat, and finding none or at least recognizing none. Two of the earlier three couples were still at their tables, no newcomers, and the waiter didn’t really scream ‘danger’ to me… but then again witches’ senses weren’t as sharp as werewolves’ so I couldn’t say for sure.
“What are you doing?” He sounded genuinely intrigued and yet somehow there was a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Why did you growl?” I countered puzzled, cocking my eyebrow at him, my delicious pizza sadly forgotten.
“You moaned,” he drawled huskily, and that’s when I noticed his eyes weren’t their normal electric blue color but several shades darker.
Stupid me! I silently breathed out a relieved sigh. Stupid Jonathan making me worry for nothing and stupid me overthinking things.
“I’ll be careful from now on,” I dropped my gaze to the beloved pizza, face aflame, desire pooling in my lower body.
“I can smell you,” I saw him lick his lips in a suggestive way and it was all I could not to moan again or whimper in dismay. But then again, both sounds would probably earn me another growl.
Growling is sexy, a part of me argued and I mentally nodded yet rolled my eyes at the same time. I was having conflicted feelings about it, but the growling-is-sexy team was winning.
“Stop your dirty thoughts or I won’t be responsible for my actions,” If I had thought I knew what a bedroom voice was before, I was very mistaken.
I whimpered, feeling myself losing the denial battle and the situation getting out of control despite my efforts. My mind was utterly and completely outraged at my body’s response but there was no reasoning with hormones.
“Okay, that’s it,” he all but growled, standing up, “restroom, now!” He hissed the last word at me as he grabbed my arm in a surprisingly gentle hold considering his tone and made me stand up.
“But the pizza…” I argued, failing in my panic and lustful daze to find a better protest.
“The pizza will wait,” he bit out tersely in a murmur as he led me to the restroom, which thankfully wasn’t too far from us.
As soon as we stepped in the rather well-decorated bathroom, he swiftly locked us in and turned towards me, his eyes full of delicious intent and dark promises. The excuses my mind had come up with for me to get out of there vanished in thin air. Linear thinking was no longer possible, and it seemed the only reason I was still alive was so I could be consumed by this very man I had been thinking of rejecting just hours ago.
His left hand cradled my face before he leaned in for the kill. The kiss wasn’t merely passionate, it was passion incarnated. His arm brought me flush against him, the softness of my curves meeting the hardness of his muscles, and it was only his strong arm around me that kept me from falling.
I was overwhelmed. I was getting weak in the knees. And I loved every second of it.
The hand that had been holding my face in place as if I was going anywhere, really travelled downward, leaving a trail of hot desire in its wake and making me moan into the kiss. Said kiss was suddenly broken and I gasped for air while simultaneously trying to capture his lips again. Meanwhile, his hands grabbed me by the hips and made me sit on the small marble surface right next to the sink.
How I always ended up there was something I would ponder whenever my brain decided to stop playing hide and seek with me.
I grabbed a fistful of surprisingly soft raven hair and brought his face down to me, noticing vaguely that his eyes were no longer blue but completely black. The kiss was even more ravaging than the first one if that was even possible. Our tongues weren’t locked in a sensual dance of seduction but more like battling one another.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I finally understood what it meant to be sucking faces it had always seemed like an exaggerated expression to me but now I got it.
The intensity of the kiss had for only rival the heated touches I was receiving. It felt like he couldn’t get enough of me and I had to say I felt the same. I wanted more and I made it known. I tugged on his shirt, making two or three of the last buttons fly in different directions and was finally able to touch his abs. I moaned upon coming in contact with the highly-arousing chocolate bar and he growled at that, making my desire for him know yet another peak.
I was amazed at the amount of raw desire I felt for this guy I only met this month.
As we parted for air and he peppered small kisses down my neck while I carried on stroking his delectable abs, one of his hands slid in between us and opened my jeans. I gasped at the feeling, alarm bells going off in the distance, making me look at him in dazed panic.
“Just allow me to pleasure you,” It seemed like he had regained a little bit of control for his orbs had gone back to normal. And since he had looked me in the eyes as he said that, there was no denying him anything.
‘Those blue eyes of his will be the death of me one day.’ I thought on a pleasured sigh. They always made my decision for me. They were his most efficient weapon, his hidden ace and all the seduction I could need.
He kept on looking at me intently for a little while and it seemed my eyes conveyed my desire for him since his hand stroked its way into my panties, making me gasp and arch into his body.
When I finally recovered from the post-orgasmic bliss and my thoughts were finally coherent again, I realized the enormity of what I had just allowed to happen. I had basically just let Jonathan, a stranger for all intents and purposes knowing a name and a title didn’t count finger-fuck me into my first ever orgasm in the freaking restroom of an Italian restaurant.
In the freaking restroom! Have you lost your mind? My sensible alter-ego was back full-force and it was almost giving me a headache.
Tears gathered in my eyes and he must have smelt them or something having his nose pressed against my throat, he couldn’t have seen them for he was soon asking me what was wrong.
“I feel like a slut,” I whispered, not finding it in me to be angry at him. Truth be told, he hadn’t done anything I hadn’t wanted.
“You’re not a slut,” he reassured me, nuzzling my neck one last time before pulling away and looking me in the eyes, “we’re mates, and the chemistry can get a little overwhelming at times. I’m sorry I couldn’t hold myself back.”
His apology was sincere and yet it felt wrong. I had wanted it to happen. It wasn’t just him.
“It takes two to tango,” I muttered, and he flashed me his brightest smile at that, making me unable to do anything but give him a small smile back.
He didn’t get his release, a snarky voice sing-sang in my head. Well, now that the lustful frenzy had died and I had sobered up, there was no way I could help him with that.
And just then, as he didn’t complain or whine about not having his fun, I realized how selfless he had been, and I could only smile more brightly at that. He had given me pleasure and had not demanded I did the same. He had not expected me to return the favor and I was really thankful for that for I didn’t think I was ready to take that step just yet.
The walk of shame back to our table wasn’t that bad. Nobody was looking our way, but I did see the waiter smirk knowingly and it made me blush and drop my gaze to the floor. Thank god Jonathan had had the decency to kiss me when I had reached my peak, or I would have screamed the place down.
As we ate our pizza in a comfortable silence, I could not look him in the eyes without blushing. He, on the other hand, smirked all through the meal.
*************
“So, we’ll meet up every day for as long as you’re off school, right?” he reminded me as we were exiting the restaurant.
“Yeah,” I gulped down loudly and glared at his innocent car, “but no more kinky restroom rendezvous.”
He chuckled and brought me to his side in a brief sideways hug before opening the door for me. I pouted but was feeling genuinely happy for once in his company. Maybe being an alpha-ultra’s mate wasn’t so bad after all.