That fucking horny spell was going to make Gabriel lose his mind.
Even the delicate brush of his custom-made Italian suit against his skin was enough to send shockwaves of an almost orgasmic sensation through his spine, forcing him to stand as still as possible every few seconds to try to recollect himself. Furthermore, Nöel’s little retaliation over his innocent attempt at getting to know him better was only making things worse, forcing the warlock to literally come in his pants like a damned preadolescent boy every time someone spoke his name. Honestly, he was starting to see Lucien’s point about murdering the youngest of the Gaudet twins. Shame his father didn’t kill him hard enough.
The point was, Gabriel was mentally and sexually frustrated. Luckily, his father seemed to have decided to cut him some slack at work for those two weeks, because there was no way he was going to get anything done with all of those hellish curses cast on him. But Gabriel was still a spiteful creature, and if he had a problem, he was determined to make sure that everyone around him also had a problem. So, when a guy with majestic dark hair looked at him for an instant too long—not that he could really be blamed, since Gabriel was currently a sweaty mess, his body trembling under the weight of the spell—while he was walking through the halls of the castle, the warlock made sure to use his empathic magic to try to project the emotional component of his distress onto the other’s mind. He didn’t know if his psychic attack had any chance of succeeding, with his unfocused mind and the possibility of the other being shielded against telepaths. He slumped his back on the wall, slightly panting and yet grinning devilishly. He had come to the castle to find someone to make his current predicament a bit more bearable, after all. “Like what you see?” He breathed in a huff, his skin on fire and his Incubus charm turned to one hundred. “I’m not trying to be snarky, I’m genuinely asking. I could use some help if you’re down.”
@thebloodofbriar
