38
Some trickster toys with her hair. When Love grunts in warning, the sneaky figure moves on to other endeavors, brushing her waist, massaging her arms, and cradling her chin. What creature dares to bother Love while she’s resting?
She had been dreaming. Because her wings had been clipped, she’d fallen from a tree branch and broken her leg, an experience that proved fascinating. Love wants to return to the dream and see how her injury changes the way she walks.
Another caress against her skin. She lifts her hand and curls her knuckles, ready to swipe back. But then she registers a pair of lips grazing her collarbone. Enticed, she sighs and arches her back for more.
Consciousness returns. Love wakes with a delicious tremble.
Andrew lifts his mouth from her clavicles and flashes a smirk. He looks exhausted, but he’s no longer burning up. Blessedly, the surface of his skin feels like hers.
“Selfish Little Myth,” he murmurs.
Love stares, then blinks back tears. “My hand hurts,” she says out of nowhere.
He nods, too riveted by her presence to register what she’d said. That’s fine. He has barely recovered, and she’s being nonsensical, likely the result of weariness and mortality.
“You’re here,” she whispers.
“I’ll always be here,” he swears. “Always.”
With a cry, Love throws herself on top of Andrew, plastering kisses all over his face. Her mate groans and tries to reciprocate, but he’s battle-worn. Repentant, she veers back to study him. His eyes are foggy, yet he’s with her.
He hasn’t faded. Neither of them has.
Love covers her mouth. Wounded noises splinter from her lungs, the sounds mortifying and undignified.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Andrew pins her to his chest, caressing her arms and cheeks. “Don’t do that.”
“Am I crushing you?” she weeps.
“You’ve always crushed me, but I don’t give a fuck. Some might say I get off on it.”
“You need water.” Love shimmies off his body, hurries to grab the pitcher, refills his cup, and thrusts it toward him. Andrew resists, urging her to drink first, then quenches his own thirst before collapsing again, taking her with him.
They wrap themselves together, their heartbeats thumping against one another. Love extends one leg over his waist. Andrew carves his fingers through her hair, his mouth tucking into her hair, inhaling her scent. He holds Love fast, as if to keep her from vanishing.
Outside, ribbons of midday sunlight sneak through the woods. The archers had been right, for there are no signs that a search party came looking for Andrew after she fell asleep. The snow has likely confined the townspeople to their homes, and the forest is too submerged for anyone to make it through. Not that humans would see the cottage.
Still, the snow is melting. With any luck, it will be clear by tomorrow night, then they can leave. And afterward, the cottage will disappear like mist.
Andrew drags his thumbs over Love’s cheeks to wipe them dry, his embrace solid and warm. The temperature of his body feels marvelous. She lets it ooze down her flesh as her lips burrow into his neck.
“You’re not hurt,” Andrew mumbles. “I checked multiple times.”
“After you carried me from the battle,” she concludes. “I remember your arms.”
“I thought I knew fury. But when I saw them aiming those arrows at you, I was ready to rip every one of those fuckers to pieces.”
“Yet we’re alive. And snowed in.”
“With only one bed. The tropes keep coming.”
“Such a smart ass,” Love mutters with a smile.
Her eyelids droop. The last thing she hears is his tired chuckle before she floats into darkness. And by the time she stirs beside Andrew, flames in the hearth have ebbed to a gentle hiss, and eventide has cloaked the world in stars.
Her beloved rests behind Love, his arm banded around her middle like a shield. Even in slumber, he seeks to protect her. Twisting in his arms, she soaks in his slumbering features and low, rumbling groan, then spends endless time sketching his countenance, touching him as much as she wishes.
Before this new life commences though, Love must do something imperative. Careful not to awaken him, she slips out of bed. Andrew mutters in his sleep, his arm stretching out for her, the motion stoking her heart like timbers.
Warmth. Such a profound sensation.
Wrapping a blanket around her, Love pads outside. Beyond the cottage door, she draws in an icy breath, the contrast in temperature startling. Air slices down her lungs, dousing the heat that had been there moments ago, the contrast pebbling her flesh. The woods appear different now, more imposing and dangerous, yet also more real. And beautiful. Finally, she knows what nature truly feels like.
Curious, Love slips into her boots and tracks through the woods. A white owl hoots, spreads its alabaster wings, and launches into the sky. The sight pulls on her chest, the scars down her shoulder blades stinging. Yet she swallows, lifts her chin, and keeps walking into the unknown.
At the frozen pond, a crochet of film laces the surface. Here, Love felt his touch and lips for the first time. Here, she felt many new things. Taking gingerly steps, Love maneuvers onto the pond, slipping once but righting herself. She proceeds with slow caution, then unspools her blanket and drops it to the ice.
How amusing. Most human stories about deities are filled with golden light, blazing suns, and lush paradises such as Mount Olympus. Yet in her reality, the Dark Gods dwell among the constellations, regardless of whether it’s morning or night. She would have loved to show Andrew that place.
The arctic landscape takes a bite from Love’s skin. At the same time, it spangles her body in celestial light.
Breath puffing from her lips, Love stands naked beneath The Stars, banking her head to the sky. Tears stream down the sides of her face. Happy, grateful, frightened, grief-stricken, awed, and hopeful droplets carve down her frosted cheeks. Mortals truly are the more resilient beings, for they endure all these emotions at once.
Although she misses her wings, Love does not regret losing them. And while she wasn’t given the choice to forsake the plumes, she does have the choice to respond. Her mouth lifts into a weeping grin, her lips shaking as she addresses The Stars. “Goodbye.”
The celestials glint like asterisks. One stubborn star in particular, which usually refuses to shine.
A tall shadow materializes across the ice, his form blending with hers. A pair of hot lips brush her nape, then sear a path along the ledge of her neck and down to the crusted lines slicing through her shoulder blades. Her beloved mate treats the scars preciously, draping kisses along the markings. He wants to ask about the severed wings but doesn’t yet, for this man knows what Love needs, knows to wait until she’s ready. Instead, her throat swells as he worships the pulped skin with his lips, paying homage to what she’s lost, soothing the scars with his poignant touch.
Raising his head, Andrew crosses his arms over Love’s midriff, encasing her in bare muscles and more heat. “Need someone to thaw you?”
The smoldering press of his unclad body ignites a new temperature, turning her blood to lava. Love sighs with pleasure and lolls her scalp against his chest. “No,” she gusts out. “I want to feel it all.”
Andrew groans, his mouth cutting down to hers. Swerving her head up toward him, Love meets his lips and insists, “I want it all.”
His mouth snatches hers, tugging her into a deep, molten kiss. Licking the seam of her lips, Andrew pries Love open, pumping his tongue inside her. A moan curls from the back of her throat, which he consumes like oxygen.
One arm tightens around her, the other burns a trail to her breasts. His palm cups the heavy flesh, fingers pinching her nipples until they toughen for him. Keening, Love flexes her tongue with his, each lap wetting her cunt. Blood rushes to her slit, heat coursing there, while the cold night nips her in other places. The variation is wondrous and authentic.
Heat. Cold.
Survival. Endurance.
Yes, she wants to feel it all with him. She wants to live and breathe and love and fuck under the night sky.
Unhinged, she makes this request aloud. “Live with me. Love with me,” she urges. “Fuck me beneath the stars.”
Andrew growls into her mouth and obliges, rocking his tongue with hers, pulling moans from Love’s chest. He walks her forward, carefully stepping onto the blanket, which provides traction. Upright and flush to her back, Andrew fits his knees between hers, then nudges her legs apart.
Love widens her stance, enough for him to penetrate but not enough to falter. Making a noise of approval, Andrew attacks on multiple fronts. His free hand sinks into the vent of her thighs, his fingers combing through her glistening hair and sketching her pussy. On a fractured cry, Love flings her head back. Her hips buck, riding the ministrations, her cunt drenching his fingers as they etch her clit until it inflates.
Next, he pitches sinuously into her cleft. At the same time, his teeth sink into her neck, grazing and nicking. Tremulous, Love moans to the sky, to the celestials, to the universe. She falls backward into him, her arms slinging behind to clasp his nape, the white layers of hair feathering over her knuckles.
Unable to withstand the anguish, Love sways her ass into his thick cock. A groan severs from Andrew’s mouth, his canines releasing her. Together, they pant and shift, his free hand vacating her breast and clasping her hip. Angling Love’s waist, Andrew stalks between her thighs and primes his tip, dragging the head back and forth across her pussy, the movements coating him in fluid.
Love whines, the noise both afflicted and demanding. A masculine hum rustles into her hair, the sound hardening into a groan as he snaps his hips upward. His cock plies Love apart, pistoning hard and high, her folds sucking him in. Their combined hiss cuts across the landscape, followed by another as Andrew circles his ass, pitching in and out at a languid pace.
Love gyrates her buttocks, grinding her cunt with his cock, the friction obliterating her vocal cords. Cries ring from her lips, which amplify into shouts. Andrew undulates his hips, spreading her folds, hitting every nerve. He fills her to the sac, the crown siphoning deeper, fucking into Love quicker now.
She grips the back of his neck and arches like a bowstring, her breasts lifting into the chilled air, nipples dark and erect. Their hips shove together, moans breaking apart and scattering through the woods. They pant into the night, clouds of air shooting from their mouths, their writhing shadows reflected across the ice pond.
Andrew hoists his cock into Love, her body jolting upward like a star launching into the firmament. Her spine abrades his pectorals, the sharp plains of his abdomen contort against her skin, and Andrew throws his weight into the motions. Sweat glazes her skin, his breath is a torch against Love’s shoulder while tufts of frost vacate her lungs, the clash in temperatures a marvelous discovery. She’s hot and cold everywhere, like any creature of this world.
As Andrew whips his cock, her arousal pours down his flesh, saturating their thighs. All the while, his other hand toys with her pussy, dabbing her flesh. Like this, Love is more open than she’s ever been.
Yet there’s further ecstasy to be had. They’ve outlived the chaos and must celebrate until their voices go hoarse.
Andrew understands this. With a fervent growl, he releases Love’s cunt and frames her opposite hip. She perceives his intentions, their movements syncing. Heedful of the ice, he lowers them to the blanket while still inside her, and Love bends on all fours.
Anchored to the frozen earth, she relishes Andrew’s upright body balancing on his knees behind her. The glorious position alters the slant of his cock. Grasping her waist, he swings his hips and snaps every broad inch into her. With fluid motions, Andrew resumes that fervent pace, the slip and slide of his erection triggering each nerve ending, every tight place within Love.
Her mouth falls open, triumphant cries leaping from her mouth. Frost from the pond penetrates the blanket, chilling her flattened palms and knees, the cold air sweeping across her flesh. Yet everything beneath Love’s skin ignites like a brushfire, heat rushing through her veins and flaring between her thighs. Yes, now she feels all of it, from the elementals, to the sensations, to the multitude of emotions. Filled with Andrew’s cock, she howls with exuberance to the celestials, the noises they make defying the laws of fate.
Andrew grunts, his ass vaulting back and forth, his cock widening farther. The growth splays her walls, her walls soaking them both. Rowing her backside, Love shoves herself toward him, matching the vehemence of his thrusts. They slam into one another, his groans mingling with her sobs. In a funnel of moonlight, they mate as if they can die at any moment yet refuse to perish.
This is what it means to risk, to lose and gain, to fling oneself into the ether. Mortality and its unpredictability make everything infinitely more profound, courageous, and valuable. Every second is fleeting and worth a thousand stars.
Her beloved digs his fingers into her hips, bracing Love to feel the rhythmic jabs of his cock, pounding so hectically, so beautifully. She swats her buttocks in kind, wetting Andrew to the seat, spreading herself on him.
The icy water is as polished as a coin, its clarity mirroring the constellations, as if they’re fucking amid the galaxy. Even more lovely, Love sees their reflection, discovering an unhampered view of her body steepled in front of Andrew. With serpentine motions of his lower half, he watches them join, expression ardent as his erection disappears inside her to the heavy sac, then glides out to the flushed crown. His abdomen contracts, muscles working hard, laboring to please her. Those knuckles bend, locking her down. That sexy mouth hangs ajar, mist emptying from his lips.
His gaze locates hers on the pond’s surface. They stare at one another, rapt by the sight, their gazes latching. Together, they watch his cock and her pussy siphon together, watch Love’s features twist in ecstasy and his pewter irises flash.
Despite the position, the haggard groans falling from Andrew’s mouth and the way he clings to Love empowers her. They move and hold one another like equals. He rises before her, and she draws him in, the connection as intrinsic as the sensations racing through her veins.
The ache in her pussy intensifies, her intimate muscles clenching him, drenching his hard flesh. Love presses firmer into the icy surface, using it for leverage and springing faster against his pelvis. With a growl, Andrew rakes his hands from Love’s hips to her pert breasts, cupping them firmly. Like this, he accentuates the motions of his waist, beating his cock and shredding her moans to bits.
Love flings her head back, hair in disarray around her face. “Yes, Andrew. Right there!”
“Where? Here?” he taunts, striking deeper, quickening his pace. “Tell me where to make you come.”
“There. Please, there.”
With precision, he charges into that tapered spot, flaying his cock. Love’s cunt pulsates, on the brink of erupting. Her walls seize up, and her cries tense, and she gushes onto Andrew. The onslaught only lures him deeper, harder, faster.
And louder. So much louder.
Andrew hisses her name, and Love shouts his, the sounds echoing through the trees. His cock expands, grows tougher. The hot flesh twitches within her folds, on the brink of spilling. And how she wants that, to extract every drop of release.
Motivated, Love slams her ass into him, claiming his cock, his soul, his heart.
“Look at me,” she pants. “See me.”
“I do,” he vows to her reflection. “I see you.”
He does. He always has.
Pleasure spirals up her limbs and coils between her thighs. Andrew catches on and thrusts even faster, deeper still, his cock fitting her cunt so well. Once more, twice more. Then Love’s consciousness breaks apart, exploding like something atomic, an effusion of heat rupturing from her core. She pauses, her hips curling into his, their movements stalling.
Love sobs aloud. Her pussy squeezes Andrew to the hilt, blood rushing to her scalp and toes, the crescendo beyond her wildest imaginings. Cold and heat. Shivers and sweat. The elements collide, invigorating Love’s flesh, her cunt pouring fire through her blood. Two thousand eight hundred years of being an immortal, yet she has never felt this alive.
She comes around Andrew, convulsing and crying herself raw. Andrew bows forward, his features glinting in the starlight, and a bellow tears from his lungs. His cock throbs, coming inside her, warmth pouring through.
On this frozen surface, they make each other come. Through the icy reflection, they watch each other fall from that precipice.
When the quakes subside, her joints melt, and her knees give. Still palming one breast, he hunches over and breaks Love’s fall, planting his other hand on the pond to keep them level. Her ass rests against his cock, which is still poised within her, the clamp of her body sealing him there. Condensation glazes their skin, while veils of frost drift from their mouths. They fight to regain their breathing, thick moans rushing into the air, Andrew’s mouth against her shoulder blade, where a wing scar resides.
“So,” Love gasps. “This is what it’s like to fuck after a near-death experience.”
Andrew hums. “Who says we’re done?”
In seconds, they’re upright, their bodies separating. Love spins to face him, Andrew yanks her forward, and she hurls herself toward those possessive arms. Except the surface overtakes their balance, and they slip onto the blanket in fits of husky laughter.
Andrew wants to flip her over, but Love snatches his wrist and crawls with him across the ice, both of them occasionally sliding. Reaching the pond’s edge, they swallow their chuckles and launch at one another, the need primal and far from satiated.
Love scrambles up Andrew’s torso. At the same time, he hauls her off the ground, rising to his full height and hefting Love against him. Her ankles hook around the swells of his ass, and she seizes Andrew’s mouth, her tongue swatting his while he stalks from the pond and makes haste to the cottage.
Kicking open the door, then punting it shut with his heel, Andrew makes a carnal noise and rams Love against the nearest glass wall. The fire has replenished itself, the interior balmy and flooded in muted light.
Pinned to the translucent facade and linked around Andrew, Love bites his throat, relishing his grunt. She’s about to sample him again when he nestles her face, lifting it to his own. Tilting her head, she marvels at the boundless expression dominating his countenance.
She opens her mouth to speak, but the words tangle on a moan as he probes her with his cock. Patiently, he rocks his hips. Her thighs shake around the span of his waist, their hips gyrating, her weight bobbing.
Slow. Steady.
In. Out. In. Out.
Now it’s nothing but heat, their flesh covered in a layer of perspiration, and her pussy astride his cock. Love whimpers, scratches her fingernails through his hair, and gazes down at him. When she does, he alters the pace, plying her with short, shallow jabs until she’s crying out again.
Jutting her hips, she rides his cock, its glistening length retreating and entering. Andrew sucks on her lower lip, devours the side of her neck, and licks the peaks of her nipples. All the while, he pitches into her with tender swats of his waist.
Then he brushes her mouth with his and whispers. “I love you.” And again. “I love you.” And again. “I love you.” He punctuates every thrust of his cock with these words, which gain momentum and volume. “I love you. I love you. I fucking love you.”
Love weeps, her heart pounding with his. The same sentiment teeters on the ledge of her tongue, but Andrew claims the words before they’re out. His lips clamp to hers, tasting her pleasure, her passion, her proclamation.
He increases the velocity, thrashing his cock from head to base, drenching Love’s cunt, putting his soul into the motions. In cadence, she bounds atop his lunging waist. And for the second time, they come around one another, their shouts gaining strength. She claws through his roots and holds on until it’s safe to let go.