My Indecent Valentine: Ablaze #2

5. Chapter 5

Wanting to be Samite, fantasizing about experiencing the world in his skin, that’s the only part of this whole thing that makes any sense to me. Everything else is too strange to sink in. It floats on the surface as we ride up the elevator. There’s not a flutter in my pulse, not a nervous bone in my body. Delira’s Gift is a meaningless phrase.

What I can’t stop thinking about is Magleon and how long he’s been fantasizing and obsessing over Samite. A very long time and in great detail by the sound of it. But Samite is mine. And there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him, including this.

It’s after midnight before the contract is finalized. The back and forth between the two of them gets heated and drawn out. I’d like to go home and sleep. I’m exhausted.

“It has to be now,” Samite murmurs in my ear. He means the performance. “Can you do it, my love?” he asks with a brush of lips against my cheek. Magleon was firm on one point: no repairs or installation until after we’ve performed Delira’s Gift. If we want to open on time, it’s now or never.

I feel the first real twinge of nerves now that the moment has arrived, but I nod, blinking my eyes to clear them of their sleepy haze. Tipping my chin with his finger, he kisses my lips. Then he picks up a pen and signs. He passes the contract to me, and I scribble my name next to his.

We have a deal.

I’m given a white evening gown to change into, and something about that makes my stomach go a little queasy. In the back of my mind, I know it’s not a gown. It’s a costume, one I’ll be wearing for an audience.

Samite is given a three-piece suit, all black. His is a perfect fit as if someone knew his exact measurements. Mine is a bit loose, and the shoulders keep slipping. I have to walk carefully to avoid exposing myself ahead of time.

A room is prepared, or maybe it’s been ready this whole time. We hover outside the gilded, black panel door and soon Magleon’s three partners join us. One is a towering orc, even taller than Magleon. He has a stronger jaw, wider shoulders, and he’s dressed in a tailored gold suit. The other two are impossibly tall demonesses with jewel-encrusted horns dressed in evening wear. With their heels, they’re the same height as Magleon.

Samite and I are on an entirely different scale from the four of them, two field mice in the company of hawks. I shift uncomfortably and grab at my shoulder, catching my sleeve before it can fall.

We exchange nods but no names and enter the room. It is dimly lit by a half dozen recessed lights turned low. Heavy velvet curtains hang across the back wall, royal purple with gold fringe. A spotlight flicks on, illuminating a small platform. It has a red patterned carpet and a tufted gold ottoman sitting in the middle. It looks like a footstool, but it’s tall enough and large enough to be a bed. A single carved wooden chair sits next to it. Further away, tucked into the shadows, are two matching damask loveseats. I glance up. A variety of mirrors hang at different heights and angles over the stage.

My pulse ticks up to a nervous drumbeat in my chest, all drowsiness gone.

Magleon and his partners head to the loveseats. Samite takes my hand and leads me to the platform.

Every night at Ollas Encendidas, I climb the steps to the stage kitchen. I stand under the spotlight and perform for an audience. There’s a trace of familiarity as we step up onto the platform. I’m even wearing my customary white, but it brings me no comfort. Instead, I feel the echo of our most recent failed dinner service, the chaos simmering beneath the surface, the sudden onslaught of nerves that incapacitated me.

Worse still, it’s not my cooking that will be on display tonight. We will be performing a much more intimate act for these strangers. I glance back to the four people watching us, partially hidden in shadow. I can make out the shiny glint of their eyes. It reminds me of the city lights flickering outside our bedroom window before Samite sensed my discomfort and drew the curtain closed. He cannot do that for me tonight.

A chill runs up my spine, and my feet lock in place. Next to me, I catch the flick of Samite’s tongue in my peripheral. “Can we have a few minutes before we begin?” he asks.

“We’ve already begun,” Magleon says. “You must narrate every interaction between you and your wife from this point on. No side conversations, no private thoughts.” Expectations have been clearly documented and signed by both parties, just as Samite requested. And now, there is no question what we must do to fulfill the contract.

Samite steps in front of me.

“Are you with me?” he asks softly.

“Louder!” Magleon barks.

“We’re entitled to your thoughts. Speak them out loud,” a voice with a feminine purr chimes in.

Samite’s jaw clenches, and his mouth twists. I know my husband, and sharing his thoughts will not come easy. It takes him a moment of struggle, but finally, he begins to speak.

“Sofia is nervous,” he says. “I can taste her fear. It’s a natural reaction to our situation, but I’m worried there’s something more.” His brow creases, and he rubs at it with his thumb. “She’s been skittish recently, and I don’t know where that comes from. Things that never bothered her before bother her now, and I’m trying to figure out what caused it. In the back of my mind, I’m also worrying that if I can’t help her move past it, we’re not going to make it through this performance.” He gives me a sheepish look.

My heart clenches at his concern. I haven’t been myself lately. I’d hoped he hadn’t noticed, but of course he did. The look in his eyes tells me he’s worried he’s upset me by noticing, but no. He notices because he loves me. My feet loosen. “I’m here,” I say, and I take my place at his side, facing the audience. I slip my hand into his, and the warmth of his skin steadies me.

“I want to ask her what’s going on in her head,” he says, looking at me but projecting his words out for the benefit of our audience, “but under our contract, she’s not obligated to share her thoughts.” It’s true, and I smile at that. Thanks to his negotiations, my thoughts are protected tonight even if his aren’t. My husband went to great pains to ensure that, and Magleon and his partners are not going to get anything extra or free from me tonight. I clamp my mouth shut, tucking my lips in to show just how tight-lipped I intend to be. Samite winks at me.

“It’s time to undress,” he says, and I feel the prickling of a nervous sweat tingle over my skin. “Would you like me to go first?”

I nod. If he goes first, that gives me just a few moments to mentally prepare. I can do this.

“I’m not shy about undressing in front of people, but Sofia is,” Samite’s voice falters every time he says my name. I think it pains him most to share his private knowledge of me. “If I undress first, it’ll help her relax. She really likes looking at me naked,” he says without a shred of modesty, and I can’t help the small laugh that escapes me. “I like it when she looks at me, too,” he continues. “Her eyes get heated, and her face goes flush, and my ego swells, knowing my wife is so easily turned on by the sight of me.” He’s not wrong.

He’s quick as always to shed his clothes, even with the extra pieces. He folds them, even though they aren’t his, and places them on the chair, and when he’s done and down to nothing, he stretches his arms, inviting my gaze. “Soak it up, wife,” he says with a grin, and again, I can’t help another laugh, though I also feel my pulse react and my face flush as my eyes eat him up. Once again, I’m left in awe of how comfortable he is in his own skin. I want that.

“It’s your turn, Sofia,” he says, approaching me. I ignore my shaky nerves and steel myself. I want to be as unflinching and self-assured as my husband. “I’m going to undress you in front of an audience,” his tongue swipes over his bottom lip, “and, to be completely honest, I’m going to enjoy this part because you are stunning, and I’ve never had the opportunity to show you off like this before.” I didn’t know he wanted to. “I hope you don’t hate it,” he says, and I have only a brief moment to glow at the fact that he thinks I’m worth showing off before he pushes the sleeves past my shoulders, and the weight of the gown does the rest.

I’m down to my underthings. The dress lies pooled at my feet, and the air is cool in here. My skin prickles. I hear faint gasps followed by hushed whispers, and I know they are surprised by my scars. Puckered skin ripples from my neck to my ribs, but the worst of it is on my shoulder. It’s a patchwork of pinkish squares left from skin grafts, and because of the angle of my body, they have a perfect view. I’m not ashamed of my scars. It’s just the open scrutiny that makes me uncomfortable.

Samite’s eyes dance over me, stirring up a heat beneath my skin, and I forget all about the whispers. “Stunning,” he mouths the word again, and my chest puffs. But then he leans in to unsnap my bra, and uncertainty ripples through me. I’ve never been topless in front of an audience before. He feels it or tastes it because he murmurs in my ear. “I’ll take you home right now, just say the word.”

“No whispering!” Magleon shouts.

We’re not going home, I think stubbornly. Not until we’ve conquered this night. But Samite keeps teetering because of me. My nervousness is making this harder on him, and he’s already got the more difficult role in this performance. I consider telling him all this, but no, my thoughts are my own. So, instead, I turn to Magleon and say, “I thought there was going to be fire.” A bit of soothing flame will calm my jumpy nerves, and that’ll help Samite, too.

Magleon calls for fire, and a robed demon with arcane markings painted on his skin carries a torch into the room. He mutters incantations as he lights a series of seven braziers. When he’s done, he leaves. The seven fires are all the same color of piercing blue. They are not joyous like my cooking fire, not sweet and relaxing like my bath fire, not ethereal and tantalizing like our Valentine’s canopy. This flame is still and harsh.

I don’t like it.

Instead of softening the edges of my self-awareness, the blue flame brings it into sharp focus. I am more aware of my body, more aware of my exposed skin, more aware of what we’re about to do. My shoulders fold in, and I have the sudden urge to hide.

Samite’s face clouds. “We’re going,” he announces.

“No!” I grab his arm. “I can do this. I want to do this,” I insist. I can’t explain to him without baring my soul to the audience as well, but this isn’t about the patent or the building, though I’m determined we will leave here with both. This is about me. I would rather tremble my way through this entire performance than let my nerves get the best of me again. I froze during dinner service, and if I walk away now, I’m afraid the pattern will be set. I’ll always fold under pressure, I will always shrink from the critics, and I’ll never be able to break free.

“What are these, Magleon?” Samite asks with a snarl, gesturing at the blue flames.

“Delira’s Gift exposes my deepest and darkest desires to my loved ones. I’ve chosen my fire magic accordingly,” he says, offering no further explanation. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the orc’s hand slip into Magleon’s and squeeze. And it occurs to me that Magleon is vulnerable in this moment, too, but instead of freezing and quaking, he is composed and collected.

Flint strikes inside me. I will not be the only coward in the room. I will fuck my husband on this stage. I will walk out of here with my head held high. And from this day on, I will be bold and fearless. I will live my life and walk out my dreams however I choose.

I will not shrink.

I look at Samite, the love of my life, my favorite person in the whole world. Focus on him, I tell myself. I grow tall as my spine elongates, and I roll my shoulders back. “Finish undressing me,” I say. There’s not much left, just my panties and borrowed heels.

An uncertain look flashes across Samite’s face, but he takes a knee and slides my panties off without a word. I kick off the shoes with too much gusto, and they go sailing off the stage. I’m naked. My hands may be trembling, but I’m standing tall. I reposition, facing out to invite the audience’s gaze. They can look all they want. I am beautiful and strong even when I shake.

“You’re awfully quiet, Samite. What are you thinking?” Magleon says with an irritated growl.

He hesitates a moment before answering. “I’m considering how to help her relax. One of the easiest ways to get Sofia’s mind off of things is to flip her over and eat her out from behind,” he says and rises to his feet.

My eyes go wide, and my face flushes red hot with a mix of embarrassment and titillation.

“Come here, wife,” he says, taking my hand and guiding me to the giant ottoman. “Onto your hands and knees, please.”

“Samite,” I say, on a faltering breath. “Can’t we start with something else?” I only just won the battle of standing naked in front of people. This is more of a giant leap than a next step.

“No,” he shakes his head. “These fires aren’t comforting you. If I can make you come fast and hard, it’ll be good for your nerves. Trust me.”

My skin is jumping as I crawl onto the ottoman and get on all fours, but I do trust him. Nothing distracts me faster than my husband, and nobody can make me come the way he can. Samite’s hands slide over my hips, and he tugs me towards him, adjusting my position. I feel a warm sizzle in my belly at his familiar touch.

The ottoman bounces as he settles onto the cushion behind me, and that’s the only warning I get before his tongue sweeps over me from my clit to my back entrance, and I muffle a startled groan. I clamp my mouth shut, determined to stifle my reactions. My thoughts are my own. But I nearly cry out again as he spreads my cheeks wider and licks me a second time and then a third time. Sweet Mother Below, it feels amazing, and my toes curl with the effort to keep quiet.

Under the harsh blue flame, my awareness of our audience and the trembling of my hands register in a new way. It’s an exotic spice mixed into a traditional dish, surprising, sharp, and complex. Do I like it? I’m flushed hot all over, and my head is buzzing. It’s overwhelming, but I’m not ready for it to stop.

“Keep going,” I whisper, the words slipping out of my mouth before I can pull them back. He has to keep going. I can’t bear the thought of him stopping now. It’s too good.

His long tongue plunges into me, then darts in and out. I bit into my bottom lip because, holy sweet bliss, I feel like I’m going to shout. He shifts lower and sucks on my clit. My thighs clench in a quick spasm, but I swallow down a powerful groan threatening to break free. That is until I hear a murmur from the shadows. “I don’t think he’s doing a very good job. She doesn’t seem to like it.”

?Pinche críticos!Everyone’s a critic. My blood boils in an instant. I curse under my breath before I relax back into my husband’s pulsing licks and let loose. I roll my hips against his face and moan out his name before begging him for more. “Dámelo,mi esposo.” Give it to me. I want it all. He growls happily, and his tongue licks and dips, hitting me in all the places he knows I like. I hold none of my noises back because he is a master at work, and the world should know how marvelous he is. My awareness goes soft and hazy as I’m swept away by the pleasure of Samite’s talented mouth working me into a soaring state of bliss.

It’s not long before the intensity spikes. My breath comes in short gasps, my limbs tremble, and heat rushes to my extremities. He can tell how close I am. He nuzzles into me more frantically, and I can feel the cartilage of his nose flexing against me in his eagerness to push me over the edge. My generous husband likes it when I come on his face. His tongue darts with the fervor of a maestro, laving over my clit with quick, unrelenting licks that have me mewling and gasping just before I unravel like a spool of yarn, like a gibbering, moaning, wheezing spool of yarn.

My body is sapped of all strength. My arms give out, and I face plant onto the bed with my ass still up in the air. Samite slaps it. “Good wife,” he says smugly, and I snort as I collapse the rest of the way onto the ottoman. My head spins, and a giddy giggle escapes me. I’ve never come quite like this, and I’m perversely proud of the fact that there are witnesses to his accomplishment. Samite deserves a medal or one of those giant trophy belts for his glorious display of sexual prowess. I stretch out, enjoying my post-orgasm haze for too short of a moment before it starts to fade, washed out by the intensity of the blue flames that insist on bringing the world back into sharp focus.

Damn it.

I glance up to find that Magleon is standing on the far side of the ottoman. He’s staring at us with bright, glowing eyes. No, not us. Samite. I glance back at him, too. Did he know Magleon was there? They make eye contact, and I catch a fine wisp of smoke escaping Samite’s eyes before it disappears. I startle. Were his eyes smoking earlier, and now they’ve stopped? Or did they start smoking for Magleon? The question prickles in my mind. I’ve only ever seen his eyes smoke for me.

“Come stand over here,” Samite waves to Magleon, and the giant black-horned demon hurries to Samite’s side with eager strides. When he gets there, Samite reaches for me. He grabs hold of my waist and flips me onto my back. My bare heels land on the ottoman, and my bent knees knock together. The blue flame is doing its thing again, and I’m acutely aware of my nakedness. I shift uncomfortably. The blissful, relaxing warmth of my orgasm is gone, and once again, I feel exposed.

I will not shrink.

Samite lays a hand on my thigh, close to my knee. “Put your hand on mine,” he says to Magleon, and the demon does as he’s told. “You can touch me, but not her,” Samite says firmly, and Magleon nods in swift agreement. “Now, watch how well she responds to touch,” he says, and there’s a light in his eye that brings to mind the image of a boy bragging about his favorite toy. He did say he wanted to show me off and that he’d enjoy doing it.

He comes to himself for a moment and looks at me. “Are you okay with this?” he asks, searching my face. “His hands won’t come to rest on you, I promise.”

“I’m okay.” I nod. Touching is not allowed except by invitation. That was Samite’s stipulation. Magleon was quick to add that if no invitation were forthcoming, then Samite must include him in other ways. “The fantasy is an interplay between you and me. I will not merely sit by and watch,” he grumbled, fist thumping on the table.

“I will not forget that this is your fantasy and that you are the star. I will make you the focus,” Samite promised. “But, mark my words. If you so much as lay a finger on her without permission, I will break your horns clean off your head.”

Samite runs his hand up my leg with Magleon’s much larger, weightier hand on top of his. I press into my heels and rise up to meet them as they glide over me. My skin tingles, and I let out a sigh as they come up to cup my breast. Magleon isn’t trying to touch me, but his thick fingers can’t avoid a light skimming. Samite’s hand begins to work in a circle, massaging my breast. His thumb swipes back and forth over my nipple, and my breaths shorten. His touch stirs my blood and warms me quicker than any flame.

“She has exquisite tits, and she knows it,” Samite says with a smirk, eyes glinting. “She likes it when I fuck them.” With his free hand, he draws a line up and down my sternum where his cock would go in case anyone needed help imaging it. “When she’s palming her breasts and squeezing them around my cock, it’s like looking into the glorious abyss. A sight of pure wonder.” His eyelids go heavy as he brags, and his sharp teeth flash behind his smug grin. This charming arrogance is the Samite I know, but what doesn’t feel like him is how easily he’s sharing right now. The tension and strain from earlier are gone, and I have to wonder if he and Magleon once had a friendship like this, one where Samite opened up about things that excited him.

“I believe you,” Magleon says, a smile tugging at his mouth as he glances from Samite to me, then back to Samite.

“We might do that later,” he says with an impish grin for me, but in a voice that”s amplified for Magleon.

The blue fire isn’t just brightness. It’s clarity, I’m coming to understand, and it illuminates the shift that’s happening right in front of me. Up to this point, Samite’s focus has been entirely on me, on helping me relax, on making me come. Now it”s split. Magleon has most of his attention. He has become the star of this show, just as Samite promised. A budding jealousy springs up in me even as they move apart and Magleon’s hand returns to his side.

Samite grips me by the thighs and pulls me towards the edge of the ottoman until my legs are draping over the side. “This is another sweet spot, tender yet ticklish,” he says to Magleon, addressing him like he’s a favorite pupil or the only guest on a private tour. His thumbs rub into the hollows of my hips. “She’ll giggle and swipe at me if I rub too lightly, but if I knead into her like this, her legs start to spread on their own.” What? That’s not true. But, looking down, sure enough, my legs have opened up for him.

“She also has very sensitive nipples, and they harden into the most beautiful little buds. Watch,” he says as he climbs up the ottoman and comes to rest next to me. He’s looking at me, but it’s not enough. I crave his full attention. I know he”s agreed to this for us, for me, but it irritates me nonetheless. Magleon should be the one out of focus, not me. I shake my head, trying to dislodge these unhelpful thoughts, but this damn blue flame is so insistent. It forces me to see with unhelpful clarity.

I feel the swaying bounce of Magleon’s huge form crawling up my other side, though he’s careful to leave room between us. He soaks up Samite’s attention. He’s practically glowing with it, something I can literally see because of this damn blue light. Samite’s head dips to my breast. His lips lock onto my nipple and his tongue licks me into hot, wet peaks. I can see that he”s enjoying it, exalting in the taste of me, but he’s also doing it for Magleon. He”s not just enjoying me, he”s making a demonstration of it. It”s maddening.

And arousing. What in the depths of hell?

I’m a prop in a play, a body here only to be used, and it’s turning me on. I’m desperate for Samite’s undivided attention but also panting and squirming at the thought that I’m just a plaything. I’m here for their amusement.

Samite nips at the round of my breast before returning to my nipple, and I let out a lusty moan. It feels so fucking good. My chest is heaving, and somewhere above my jiggling breasts, their eyes meet.

“I want a taste,” Magleon murmurs.

“No,” Samite’s head pops up with a snarl, but then he hesitates and glances at me. “Unless—would you—would you enjoy it?” He asks.

No!I think. But it’s a lie, and I know it. I can feel moisture pooling between my legs. Samite’s tongue flicks out. I know he can taste how much I’m turned on, and I’m guessing the blue flame is revealing things to him the same as it is to me. “You don’t have to say what you’re thinking, Sofia. Just shake your head, yes or no. Do you want this?”

Samite watches me, waiting. I bite my lip, but I keep my head still. The longer I wait to answer, the raspier my breath grows, and the more tiny wisps of smoke start trickling from the corner of Samite’s eyes, a sure sign of his arousal. I nod.

He nods to Magleon, and they lower their heads in unison. Their horns knock together as each of them sucks a nipple into their mouths. Sweet aching bliss. I shudder against the cushion, my body rocked by double waves of pleasure, and I know it’s not just my pleasure I’m feeling. In the blue flame, everything is clear. Our collective excitement is feeding on itself. I’m turned on, which is a turn on for Samite, which is a turn on for Magleon. It all stems from me, and I feel strangely powerful as these pair of demons lick and suck on me. Our pulses spike in unison, and our breathing goes heavy together. Samite’s eyes billow plumes of smoke.

As their hands join their mouths in fondling me, my head falls sideways. My breaths are just pants now, and my eyelids are fluttering, but somehow, my gaze manages to drift past Magleon’s shoulder and connect with one of the demonesses. I’d almost forgotten the others were still here. Her breathing is as quick and short as mine, but I still manage to gasp in wonder when I see her eyes. There is a feathery red smoke pouring out of them. It looks almost like impossibly long lashes twisting up in tiny tendrils above her bottomless black eyes.

She knows what I’m feeling. I’m certain of it. Not just in my body but in my head. The confusion, the desire, the hot mix of pleasure with jealousy, and the heady dissonance of feeling both powerless and powerful at the same time. Her tongue licks the air at the same moment Samite licks the side of my breast, and a spasm ripples through my abdomen.

He growls and nips at my flesh. My head lifts towards him and I gulp in a wisp of his smoke. I”ve never done it before, but I”m not surprised to find that I like the taste of it. I suck in another greedy mouthful. He must feel it. His head pops up just as the smoke I inhaled leaks from my eyes. It’s the strangest sensation.

“She is part demon?” Magleon whispers. It”s more a statement seeking confirmation than a question.

“I’ve wondered before if she could be,” Samite says, his mouth twisting into a half smile before it falters. “Could it be a hallucination?” he asks. “From the fire magic.”

“Doubtful,” Magleon says. “Tell her to do it again.”

“One more time, wife. Please,” He dips his head closer to me, and this time, I drag his smoke into my lungs. From there, it sweeps up through my head and burns my sinuses in an oddly familiar way, like eating chili or wasabi, something with a kick to it. I like it, the sting and the way it swirls through my thoughts before pouring out again through my eyes, my nose, and my mouth. Wonderful.

“Her eyes! Did you see them? They glowed orange for a second. There is no question,” Magleon says with a firm nod. “Someone in her family line wears a crown of horns.”

Samite”s grin spreads over his face. He peppers kisses onto my neck, cups my breast, and squeezes it in delight. I feel the hard pressure of his cock rubbing against my thigh.

My hand suddenly has a mind of its own. It reaches down between my legs and rubs quick little circles.

“Yes,” Magleon hisses. “Ask her to make herself come.” There is no rule in our contract that says he can’t talk directly to me, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to tell Samite what to do and have him do it. It’s his favorite part of this fantasy.

Samite’s arm wraps under my thigh, and finding my entrance, he slides a finger into me. “Make yourself come, wife,” he says into my neck and nibbles at my jaw. He knows his finger will get me off quicker, but damn it, he stuck it in me for Magleon, and, once again, I should be seething, but I”m so aroused, I”m not sure what else I”m feeling. I just keep touching myself and growing hotter. It”s indecently delicious, and I want more. I murmur it or moan it. “More,” I say. “Please.”

“May I help?” Magleon asks. What does that mean? I wonder for only a second before I understand. I blush, scandalized and excited at the same time.

“Shake your head yes or no.” Samite leaves it to me again, and holy mother of all that is damned, I can’t bring myself to shake my head ‘no.’ Does it upset him? The thought flickers in my head for only a moment. Then our gaze meets, and I know my answer. His glowing orange eyes are swirling with burning desire. His cock presses against me all the more firmly, his wetness smearing up my thigh. I nod yes. I don”t know exactly why I want this, but what I do know is this — my husband takes great pleasure in giving me pleasure.

”Wait just a second,” Samite says and pumps a second finger in and out of me a few times. I clench, squeezing his fingers together. He groans against my neck as he stretches me. ”You undo me, wife,” he whispers low enough that no one hears him but me. Then he lifts his head to say to Magleon, “Now you can help.”

Magleon is quick to slip his index finger up inside me, but I know instantly that he doesn’t care that it’s me he’s inside of. He”s turned on by the fact that he and Samite are doing this intimate and erotic act together. It”s the same for me. I don”t care that it”s Magleon, only that it”s my husband who”s touching me, groaning into me, and sharing bits of me with someone else. It doesn’t change the fact that the extra fullness is exquisite or that the way their fingers wrestle themselves into a rhythm is hitting me in interesting new places.

My walls shudder, and waves of heat roll off my skin as I keep working my clit. I’m nearing my peak, and my fingers slow to a light strum so that I don’t plummet over the edge because I want to save it. I turn to Samite. “I want your cock inside me. Just you,” I say, followed quickly with ”hurry.” I”m teetering on the edge.

He scrambles up from the bed, and Magleon follows, but Samite barks at him to take a step back, and he does. Standing between my legs, Samite presses my knees out, spreading them as far apart as they’ll go.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Magleon murmurs, his voice thick with a demanding sort of need.

“This is my favorite sight in the whole world,” he says. “Sofia naked and dripping, nothing hidden from me. My heart swells to bursting every time, and I feel kingly like I’ve been granted access to a magical land of infinite pleasure.”

“I want to see what you see from your point of view.”

“No.” Samite shakes his head firmly. He doesn’t ask me. “This is just for me,” he says. I eat it up with a spoon and lick my greedy chops. His attention is is so craveable.

Magleon doesn’t press, but he does throw out another request. “Throw her legs over your shoulders.” And he does. With my calves resting on his shoulders and my ankles hovering above his ears, he positions himself at my entrance. But then he pauses to give Magleon a wicked grin. “Do you want me to tell you what entering my wife feels like?”

“You know that I do,” Magleon says with an eager growl.

“She fits me in a way I couldn’t have expected. When she’s this wet, the glide into her feels almost like suction,” he says, and he pushes into me. My mouth falls open into a wordless gasp. “It takes every ounce of self-control to not come immediately,” he says with a sharp inhale. “I have to grip my toes and take deep breaths as I pump in and out, or I won’t last.”

I start rocking in time with him, and my head is spinning with how good it feels. Every time we’re together, it’s a marvel and a wonder.

“Keep talking,” Magleon prompts when Samite is quiet for too long, lost in his pleasure.

“She’s already starting to flutter,” he says. “It feels so incredible that my cock swells that extra little bit, and then the friction is just perfect, mind-blowing,” he pants. As he continues speaking, his words are peppered with grunts. “I can feel heat building inside her. She gets so warm. Her squeezing gets tighter, and this is when she loses control of her hips. Look at them. Sweet Mother, look how they move. She is perfection. Ah, look here.” He reaches to swipe his thumb over the divet of my collarbone. “Little beads of sweat start to form here when she’s getting close. It’s my warning sign. If I want to draw things out, I have to slow down. If I want her to come screaming, I need to drive harder and slap against her until her tits are bouncing.”

“Screaming,” Magleon says softly, like he’s making a wish.

Samite’s hips become pistons, and he drives into me so hard every part of me is bouncing, including my tits. I’m slick with sweat and my face has to be as red as ever, and I don’t care. All the windows in the world could be open with every eye on me, and I would love it because I am a queen being fucked by a god. And each slap of his body against mine draws heat to the surface, a pull more powerful than gravity. Magma rises hot and spreads through my body. His thumb rubs at my already swollen clit, and I explode. I scream his name, even as he keeps pounding into me. My name comes tumbling out of his mouth next, but it’s a strangled shout followed by a spasm of short bursts as Samite races across his own finish line. He pitches forward, catching himself with a locked arm on the bed.

Stars burst in my vision, and my legs slide from his shoulders. Everywhere I rub against myself, I’m slick and hot.

Samite is panting as he pulls himself up to stand. I’m breathlessly admiring the blissful sight of my post-coital husband when Magleon grabs him by the shoulder, spins him around, and kisses him with a hungry growl.

I’m stunned. The black-horned demon who towers over my husband claims lips that belong to me. Fury spikes, and I spring to sitting full upright. But the moment passes too quickly for anything else. A brief pressing of lips and they”re already pulling away. Magleon steps back with a mumbled apology, Samite stumbles back, a bewildered look on his face.

“I think I was madly in love with you for a very long time,” Magleon says. There are tears in his eyes and a hitch in his voice. “I should have told you before you disappeared. I loved you, Samite. I loved you for half my life. I have to know, did you ever love me?”

Samite’s eyes are wide and uncertain as he looks from me to Magleon and back to me. I know his answer already. I see it in the blue flame. He did, not in the same way Magleon loved him, but in the sharp clarity of this fucking awful blue flame, I know that there was a seed of affection, a spring of love that could have grow into more. Samite could have fallen for Magleon, and they could have had a life together built on a foundation of passion, shared interests, and a decade of friendship. Instead, he has me. Am I a poor replacement? A consolation prize?

“He loved you once, but not anymore,” I snap the words, wanting to scream them, wishing I could say he never loved anyone but me. At least this much is true, ”not anymore.”

Magleon’s head falls into a soft nod. He rubs at his chest. “There’s been a nail in my heart since the day you left, my friend. Now it’s out,” he says on a heavy breath. “Now it is finally out.” Then Magleon, the giant demon with sweeping black horns, delicately dabs at the corners of his tear-rimmed eyes and turns to walk away, leaving us alone on the platform.

Samite turns to me, and there’s a glassy sheen in his eyes.

“Do you regret me?” The question tumbles out of my mouth. Now that he knows what he could have had, does he wish he’d never met me?

Samite leaps onto the ottoman, cages me with his body, and crushes me flat. “No, Sofia. No! I could never regret you. You have to believe me.” We’re practically nose to nose, and there’s a wild look in his eye and a bitterly sour taste on my tongue. I nearly retch until the meaning of it becomes clear. I know what I’m tasting. Fear.

“You’re scared to lose me,” I whisper, slightly awed by the experience of having my tongue tell me things I couldn”t know otherwise, aided of course by the blue flame.

“Yes.” He buries his face into my neck. “I”ve never loved anyone the way I love you, Sofia, and it terrifies me. Since our wedding night, it’s become this constant thing. It distracts me during the day and haunts my dreams at night, and no matter what I do, I can’t shake it,” he says, and there’s a trembling hitch in his voice. ”Losing you, is the worst thing I can imagine.”

Since our wedding? That’s too long of a time to be afraid. I’ve thought of his confidence as a steady and unshakable rock all this time. How did I not notice? And why didn’t he tell me? I want to ask, but there is something else I need to do first.

I nudge him until his head lifts. Then I grab his chin. “Your lips are mine,” I say in my most steely voice.

“Yes.” He nods fervently. “I’m sorry for that. It will never happen again.”

“You are mine.” Magleon touched me far more than him, but he never wanted me.

“Always. All of me, my precious wife. I am yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

“You are my demon.” I will hammer this one point until I am satisfied.

“And you are my demoness.” He claims my mouth in a passionate kiss, his teeth clashing against mine.

When we come up for air a few moments later, we hear the sounds of gentle weeping, and we both look. Magleon is with his partners. They’ve congregated around him. One of the demonesses peppers his face with kisses. The orc shakes with gentle sobs. All four of them pull together into a tight and clinging circle. They shudder and sob and lean into the crooks of each other’s necks.

“What”s wrong with them?” I whisper.

“They felt everything he felt. I imagine they were all connected by an additional bit of magic, and the blue flame was meant to amplify it. They’re hurting together, but they’ll heal together, too,” he says. ”A strong bond. That”s Delira’s Gift.” His voice is reverent and hushed, but he”s not looking at them. His eyes have been glued to me this whole time, and now his fingers trace along my jaw and brush through my hair. “Lovers exposing themselves to and for one another, enduring the emotionally harrowing trial as an act of pure devotion, it”s a rarity. Very few people will ever choose this and fewer still will reach the other side and find what they”d hoped to find — a profound certainty of how deeply they are loved.” His nose nuzzles against my temple, and his body presses in as if seeking to meld into mine.

I have found that tonight, and so has he. I can see it in the blue flame. “I’m here with you, mi amor,” I whisper.