How To Perform The 'Come To Me Spell' Correctly?

As the tittles says, I summoned him, expecting to be loved, worshipped, taken care of. What I received was a spanking to my bum and a scolding for my attempts. But I did win a daddy, a really strict one that I would always choose no matter what. This is our story. Warning this is a cgl story, filled with fluff. Apologies for any misspelling and grammar mistakes.

I bought a handsome, aloof incubus online. But he wouldn't stop making that low humming sound, just standing there, staring at me in silence. His body was burning hot. Worried he might be sick, I hurried to contact customer service. After listening to my description, the person on the other end went quiet for a moment. Then they said, "Um... is it possible that your incubus isn't sick—he's just starving, maybe wanting to kiss you, or... do something else?"

When she learnt that she is a witch her life turned upside down, yet she never wanted magic to control her life. It all changed once she found out she accidently began casting a spell she needs to complete before her 30th birthday. Now, she can either make her fated one kiss her, or she will die… The problem is, her destined person is immune to magic, which will her uneasy task even more complicated. Find out where the ill fate will lead a beginner witch and a cold man in expensive suit…

In my last life, I secretly slipped a Love Potion into the cup of my destined mate, the Alpha of my pack, Jason Green. As expected, he fell in love with me. We held the grandest mate-bonding ceremony in our pack's history and became the couple everyone envied. The effects of the Love Potion would last seven years. I naively believed that it would be enough to win his true heart. But Jason's childhood friend, Lilian Foster, traded her own tongue to a black-market witch for the antidote. The moment the truth was exposed, the love in Jason's eyes turned into a hatred that pierced through the bone. He sold me to the black market as a live test subject for experiments and forced me to drink a Corrosive Spellvial. My insides rotted away, and I died from sheer pain. Now, I had regressed in time, once again holding that same bottle of Love Potion. This time, I didn't hesitate. I drank it all in one swift movement. Jason, I wouldn't beg for your love again. I was going to love myself. So… Why are you the one who ended up regretting it?

He lowered his head and angrily placed a kiss on my lips, I had felt the passion, love and compassion in his previous kisses but right now he was venting out all his anger. He bit my lower lip hard until it was completely swollen and began to bleed, I wanted to cry in pain but he didn't give me a chance and his tongue pried my mouth open and with the help of it he pulled my tongue into his mouth and then bit my tongue. At this moment he was completely consumed by anger and out of his senses, I wanted to use my magic to get rid of him but I could not do that too as he had one of my wrists twisted which was now turning numb with pain and the other was pinned above my head against the wall. Soon his fangs pierced my tongue and this time finally a sharp painful shout left my throat and hit his lips. My lips were now trembling and I just wanted to push him away but as much as I tried that, he kept pushing his body against mine making me loose my mind completely. My painful voice brought him back to his senses and his lips and teeth finally left my mouth, tears flowed through my eyes due to the pain and I looked at him angrily that was when he finally spoke "I told you to be careful but you do every possible thing to rile me up. Your scent is completely different from every person on this earth, it is so appealing and inviting that anyone can find you and that means that no matter how hard you try, you can't escape from me."

I stood at the edge of Ironwood territory, boots sinking into mud as cold seeped through my coat. I hated being this close to their land. It smelled like wet dog, testosterone, and trouble. “You’re late, witch.” The voice hit low and deep, vibrating through the ground before it reached my ears. I didn’t flinch. I refused to give him that. I turned slowly, amethyst eyes narrowing as I found him at the tree line. Guilermo Santander. He stepped into the gray light, rain sliding off his broad frame. Six-foot-five of pure menace. Dark hair plastered to his forehead, silver streaks catching the gloom, and those amber eyes—burning straight through me. “I’m not late,” I said calmly, though my pulse spiked. “You wolves just don’t understand patience.” He stopped three feet away. My skin prickled as the runes along my ribs flared hot, reacting to the dense magic rolling off him. Suffocating. Intoxicating. “And you witches don’t understand territory,” Guilermo said. He didn’t sound feral. He sounded tired—like a man carrying a century of weight on deceptively young shoulders. He leaned in and sniffed near my neck. I stiffened. “You smell like sage and burnt sugar,” he murmured, voice dropping, darker now. “It’s giving me a headache.” “Then stop breathing,” I snapped. One corner of his mouth lifted, a flash of sharp canine. “Make me.” The air between us snapped tight. My magic stirred, violet haze curling from my fingertips without permission, brushing the leather of his jacket. He didn’t pull away. He leaned closer. And standing there in the freezing rain with a man who could tear my throat out, I realized two things: Elder Sibal was wrong—Guilermo wasn’t a monster to be chained. And I was in serious trouble.