* Warning *

This fic is for adults only. If you do not want to read an explicit Hope/Alaric story or about improper age pairings, please do not proceed.

I Hope Chapter 1

"I hope you know what you did was wrong and will not be tolerated at the Salvatore School. If you use this type of spell again, that will be grounds for expulsion. Are we clear?"

Ric's voice carries through the heavy wooden door with unmistakable authority. Who is he talking to? What kind of spell was this witch casting? Whoever it is, they are getting a taste of Ric's serious enforcement of the rules. It seems like the lecture is over, so I crane my head to the right to have a look at who is about to walk out the door.

The ancient hinges of Ric's office door creak in frustration. Oh. It's Kate. The other redhead. I see her in class a lot but we don't really talk. Doesn't seem like much of a troublemaker. Seems odd for her to be on the brink of expulsion…the spell she did must be pretty twisted for her to feel the wrath of Ric. I hadn't heard anything explode or other students screaming lately, so it must be something almost undetectable by non-witches. Either way, not my problem. I'm not the one in trouble. That's not even possible anymore.

"Hope, come on in." Ric's voice has leveled since his last conversation. He's usually all business when others are around, with an occasional touch.

With a blithe wave of my hand, the heavy door shuts softly behind me. From here, my path is already determined. My sights are set. My mouth is open. His desk is cleared.

"Come on in." He whispers, the corner of his mouth raised in a knowing smirk.

It's an easy climb to get on top of his desk and kneel there, arching my back in anticipation. Good thing he cleared it off. Two days ago, it had been crowded with papers, books, empty coffee mugs. It would have been too much of a distraction to daintily pick up everything and place it on another surface, so he pushed it all to the floor with one sweep of his hands. Books slammed, papers flew, mugs shattered…but we didn't care. By the time it all hit the floor, one of his hands was clutching my hair at the nape of my neck and the other was moving quickly up my skirt. My hands had been preoccupied with his shirt's top button. We couldn't even see the mess we made because our eyes were shut and our mouths were linked.

Today he doesn't rush. He meets my knowing stare and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. His lips brush against mine and my back arches further.

"I created a new spell last night."

"Hmm. Yeah?" he whispered curiously.

"Mmhmm. You know how I like to make spells that help me in everyday life, so I figured I should think about what I like to do every day and go from there. This one is simple and doesn't even require an incantation. It serves two purposes. One, no matter how long I'm on my knees, they won't ache."

"I like it so far," he replies. "And the second?"

"No matter how deep you go, I'll never gag."

That's all it takes. His lips claim mine and he pulls my legs forward so I'm sitting on the desk with my legs spread. He is rock hard in front of me, pressing and growing steadily. I run my hand up his chest, enjoying the smooth silk of his dark gray tie. His kiss is so intoxicating, filling me with lust and need and energy. His hand has been searching up my skirt for panties to pull, but he can't find what isn't there. Upon this realization, Ric moans against my mouth with a growling intensity. As his tongue grazes my bottom lip, he whispers what he knows I want to hear.

"I hope you're ready."

My mouth still on his, I give a quick wave of my hand and my shirt flies open, buttons loosening of their own accord. "I'm ready, daddy."

How many times have his hands held my tits and taken my peony pink nipples into his mouth, alternating between them and coaxing them to their highest peak? How many times have I used the same unbuttoning spell that I use on my shirt as I do on his pants? How many times have I called him daddy, knowing that this moniker gives us both a sense of power and passion that sustains us through all of life's trials and hardships?

I'm too present in this moment to count.

Before he can move down my willing body any further, I free my hands from his loosened tie and, as it falls to the floor, I push his shoulders back and hop off the desk to kneel in front of him in one lithe movement. It's fun sometimes to take my sweet time with the zipper, pulling down his pants and those designer black boxers he loves to see me remove with my teeth, yanking them by the band. But, today, he won't have it. I can feel the urgency running through from his mind to his hands, which are now clasped around my hair, keeping it back ever so kindly so I can work his cock with my mouth uninhibited. His grasp on my hair gives him exquisite control over my head's movements, maintaining his power to choose speed and depth. And he is the type of man who always wants to go deep.

That won't be a problem for me.

Magic is rooted in the spirit of the witch. Its power has great potential to be developed, morphed, and magnified. And I am special. I am the tribrid. My magic knows no bounds, permeating every cell in my body and every aura I project. Ever since Ric has been inviting me to share his bed, my spell creation skills have blossomed like never before. He is everything to me. My perfect lover. My perfect daddy. My perfect supporter of my supernatural potential.

And, since that first night, my perfect blood source.

The spell I had silently cast while waiting outside Ric's office door just moments ago has taken hold. Now on the floor, my knees hold my weight and the unrelenting beating they are about to take will feel like being held up by soft pillows, supporting every part of skin, bone, and ligament. More importantly, my throat will be able to host more of Ric's cock than ever. This spell works in tandem with one I had cast months ago; one that prevents jaw fatigue. Now I'll feel like I never need to stop to breathe or rest and that he can go as far down my willing throat as he pleases without being pushed out in a fit of coughing and gagging.

It's time. I peer up at my sweet Ric and meet his lustful stare. What a sight he must be taking in; my shirt unbuttoned, hanging freely on the sides of my swollen breasts, my legs spread under that little plaid skirt I wear just for him, my mouth open wide with my tongue running once up the length of his thick daddy cock.

The taste of him. Fuck.

"Show me the effects of your new spell, little witch."

Before I can respond by taking him fully, I am suddenly looking up at the dimmed lights of the chandelier mounted to the ceiling. He just pulled my head back, now cradling it in his hands, still clutching my hair. My mouth is now completely vulnerable, and he knows it.

Fullness. Heat. Sweet scent. Enticing taste. Unmistakably Ric. With steady swallowing motions deep in my spell-touched throat, I drop my hands, palms up, to my sides and take him.

Magical.

He works my mouth around his divine dick, using every inch of length he's been endowed with. I know he loves the feel of my full lips wrapped around him, never breaking away from the sensitive skin of his cock. I suck him hard, my head and mouth and heart bending to his will, embodying the absolutely cock hungry slut he has brought out from deep within me. I don't even know how long I've had him pushing his cock in and out of my throat. 20 minutes? More, somehow? My sense of time used to depend on how sore my knees become, how tired my jaw is, begging for a break to catch my breath. Now there is no reason to stop. My confidence in spell creation increases with each moment I hold Ric's throbbing cock in my mouth. He really believes in me. I show him my fearlessness by sucking harder.

Upon every thrust, his sounds of pleasure increase. Their husky tone is the sweetest melody. As I take his cock deep into my throat again and again, he sings his song of love for me with those sounds, the lyrics a chant of one simple word that we say to each other every night and day.

"Yes. Yes. Yes."

I know my daddy. He is close. The heat is building up inside of him. His thrusts get faster as his hold on my hair gets tighter. My head is leaning so far back it's only inches away from the desk. And his breath. It harmonizes with his heavenly song of pleasure and affirmation and lust so wonderfully that my eyes roll back in my head. I can't help but moan around his thrusting cock, so hot and wet and close to where my own voice originates.

This is it. The sound of my pleasure, the vibration in my throat surrounds his cock and brings his resolve to its limit. I meant it when I told him I was ready. Exquisite warmth flows from the deepest point in my throat all the way up to my lips as releases his cock from my throat's grip. He slowly pulls forward and out of my mouth, resting the tip on my bottom lip. From my lips to the back of my throat, his cum has left the path of his fantasy that he no doubt has been yearning for since we last fucked. He sees the light in my eyes, locked with his, that this motion brings me, so he pushes past my lips once more, pushing his luscious cum across my tongue and back into my throat, where he releases more. He always knows what his baby girl wants.

"Take it, love," he commands with authority. His voice reminds me of the scolding I had eavesdropped on before I entered his office. But this is for me, only me. The weight of his command soothes me. I like that.

"Mmmmm, yes daddy," I reply with deep reverence.

"I'm not done with you. You know that," he murmurs huskily as he places his finger under my chin, still dripping with his cum, and brings me up to a standing position. Normally my knees would scream at such a movement after being slammed repeatedly against the aged wooden floor, but my spell has been successful. Lovely.

He swipes the cum into my mouth with his finger, which I suck greedily, never breaking our eye contact. I can tell he likes that because as soon as I swallow what he's given me, his lips press lovingly against mine. He moans into my mouth and swirls his tongue with my own. I return his sound of pleasure and pull him closer to me by his waist. I love that his hands cradle my face, with his fingers brushing against my flushed cheek as I gaze at him. Ric is truly romantic.

"I've taken your sweet mouth today, but I need more," he breathes the words into my open mouth and kisses me with gentle force. "I know you're wet for me. Tell me, Hope."

"I'm wet for you, daddy." The statement comes out coupled with a pleading moan. My hands roam up to his face and I wrap my arms around his neck lovingly. He smiles and moves his lips just next to my ear. His beard brushes my cheek.

"And I know you love it when I claim all your tight little holes in succession." His hands grip my waist as he grinds his hips into mine, pushing my ass against the edge of the desk. My nipples brush against his chest, triggering a jolt that elicits a delicious reaction from my now aching pussy. He knows I need to cum for him. At this point I am beyond replies that contain any language, so my response comes purely physically. My hips grind back against his. My lips meet with his once more, letting out a sweet moan that holds all my anticipation for what's to come. He knows what this kiss is asking, so he tells me the answer.

"I'll come to your room tonight. I hope you're ready."

Thanks for reading! I'm just now getting back into the fanfiction game after many years. I used to write back in the heyday of Twilight fanfiction, when we would refer to this type of story as a "lemon." Do we still do that?

One thing that's cool about this story is that I plan to write it all in first person present tense. I think it really roots the reader "in the moment" with the characters. Let me know how I do with this method.

This is an ongoing story. I will continue to add chapters as I write them, so check back and see if you're craving more Ric & Hope, plus some other Legacies and TVD/Originals characters. x CannaVamp