Chapter 25 #2
I still feel so overwhelmed by everything. But I feel so secure in his arms, in his care. It sounds like heaven to give it over to him. To surrender control for a little while.
I’ve been fighting for so long to keep my head above water. Long before I met him. In my last relationship with Michael, I always felt like I had to walk on eggshells because I never felt secure. Never knew what mood he’d be in, what criticism would come next.
Then at home with Mom, I felt like I had to keep a hard shield up all the time so her little barbs wouldn’t skewer me. So her comments about my weight, my choices, my failures wouldn’t land quite so deep.
But from the beginning with Remus, it’s never been like that. In spite of all the unusual circumstances of meeting him—the whole flying-down-from-the-sky-claiming-to-be-a-god thing—he’s always made me feel safe. Wanted. Cherished.
So it’s the easiest thing in the world for me to say, “Yes. Please take care of me for a little while.”
He gives a corresponding growl of appreciation from low in his throat—almost animalistic, possessive. The sound vibrates through his chest into my back.
One arm wraps around my waist, holding me against him. The other reaches in front of me for a bottle on the shelf—shampoo, I realize.
The most heavenly scent fills the steamy air when he opens it—something floral but not too sweet. Jasmine, maybe? With hints of vanilla?
Moments later, I sigh in pure pleasure as his lathered fingers sink into my hair. Strong. Sure. Massaging.
He washes my hair slowly, taking his time. His fingers massage my scalp as he goes, working in circles, applying just the right amount of pressure. Every stroke deliberate and caring.
I sink back against him completely, trusting him to hold my weight. My eyes flutter closed.
It almost feels like some sort of sacred ritual as he tips me forward gently to wash the soap out of my hair.
I keep my eyes closed, breathing through my mouth as the hot, soapy water falls around my face, over my head.
His fingers continue to massage, working through my hair to ensure every bit of shampoo is rinsed clean.
He washes my hair slowly, massaging my scalp as he goes.
I sink back against him, trusting him to hold my weight.
It almost feels like some sort of sacred religious act as he tips me forward to wash the soap out of my hair.
I keep my eyes closed, breathing out of my mouth as the hot, soapy water falls around my face, his fingers continuing to massage my hair clean.
“So, so soft,” he murmurs in his deep voice, and I feel the reverberations of his deep timbre all throughout my body.
But turns out I’ve only begun to feel the holiness of his ministrations. He conditions my hair with just as much gentleness and provides a second scalp massage.
Next, he draws one arm up, placing my hand high on the still-cool marble, and he washes from under my arm to the tips of my fingers, paying attention to each one.
He does the same with the other hand, pressing it against the glass, both arms still raised as he comes back to my breasts, which swing free.
After pouring more soap into his hands, he cups my breasts.
Stepping close into me from behind so that his chest is against my back, I shudder, my pussy clenching in need as he soaps and massages my breasts, pinching ever so slightly at my nipples before washing down my belly.
I shudder again, and my hands start to drop, but his soapy hands massage up my biceps, pressing them back against the marble and glass.
I sigh in pleasure at the reminder that he’s in control and I don’t have to think or worry about a single thing.
For once, I’m not the one making any decisions, and it’s so freeing.
His hands come back to my breasts, and again, his thumb and forefinger pinch at my nipples. A hiss of pleasure escapes my lips. I feel his lips against the back of my neck, and then he’s rubbing down my belly.
Unlike most men who barely want to acknowledge I have a belly, much less ever glancingly touch it on accident, he massages deep with purpose down the center of it as he gets lower and lower.
My eyes blink open in the steamy shower as I feel—Oh god, that feels so good.
The pressure there, I can feel it in my—
When he makes his way to my fupa, both of his hands get involved, massaging me in a way that is so teasing that I’m panting and want to turn around and climb him.
But no. I’ve given over control to him.
I just didn’t think it would be so hard, especially when he keeps teasing me, skimming his fingertips across my pussy in the barest touch before moving around to massage my ass. I’m not sure if there’s even the pretense of washing me anymore, and I’m not mad about it.
His hands are so strong as he grasps my ass cheeks, rubbing them firmly. I begin to tip forwards from the pressure, but before my hands move to right myself, his tail suddenly whips out to wrap itself around my waist.
I gasp. “But you’re not supposed to—” He’s supposed to stay glamoured.
His hands tug my ass cheeks wide apart, and then suddenly, I feel his hardness there and shudder with want. “I never was good at following the rules,” he growls in my ear.
I nod vigorously. “Rules are overrated,” I gasp.
“Move your hands to the front wall of the shower,” he says, his voice low and gruff in that way it gets when he’s turned on. God, I love it when he gets like this. Like a barely controlled storm.
He moves with me, his body all but cemented against my back as we step forward into the multiple sprays so that I can press both palms against the front marble wall.
“That’s my good girl,” he whispers in my ear before leaning forward to tug my earlobe between his teeth. His hands are still on my ass, tugging me wide, and I can feel water rushing down between my ass cheeks.
He reaches for a squirt of soap, and then he’s washing me there. I gasp in excitement at the intimacy as his fingers probe me.
“You said you’d give me all of yourself. Would you even surrender this?” he asks, one of his thick fingers probing my anus.
“Yes,” I barely manage to gasp, wiggling my ass a little further toward his searching fingers. “Everything. I’m yours.”
He does that satisfied growl thing that he did earlier, and his tail unwraps from my waist, instead looping around my upper thigh and squeezing. The very tip of it swipes back and forth against my swollen, sensitive pussy. I gulp, my fingertips scrabbling for purchase against the smooth marble.
“Relax,” he hisses as his finger continues exploring me.
Guys have wanted to fuck my ass before, but I’ve never let anyone.
This is why, I think. I’ve never trusted anyone this much to be able to relax.
I’ve played with myself back there. Used some beads with a lot of lube and all the lights off a couple times.
But I feel safe with Remus. I suck in a breath of air and do as he says, relaxing for him.
His strong hands pry me open, and I’m even more excited at the forbidden heights he always pushes me to. Especially when his finger searches unashamedly against my back hole, feeling out the contours. The constantly rushing water isn’t exactly the same as lube, but he’s got me so relaxed. . .
His finger pops inside me, and we both groan.
“That’s right.” His voice is in my ear as he leans down, cuddling his face against mine from behind.
“Let me inside your secret places. Relax and let all of me in.” His finger slides in and out just the tiniest bit, and my eyelids flutter at the unusual sensual sensation.
It was nothing like this when I played with myself furtively in the dark.
I don’t know what it is about being with him, but every sexual act feels ten thousand times more intense when it’s at his hands.
“I’m here with you,” he murmurs just loud enough to be heard above the spray. I relax back against him, knowing this is what makes the difference. Trust, yes, but also the intimacy of being totally with him, present in each of these moments. I’ve never known anything like it.
My whole life has been so combative with the people around me. This kind of intimacy is almost beyond understanding.
And with his finger probing me back there, I feel even more wild. Like he’s stripped me down beyond skin to the being I am within. Human, angel, none of that matters here. We’re two creatures who managed to find one another against all odds, and I need more; I’ve never felt so hungry for more.
So I wiggle my ample backside against him, and with one hand, he holds my cheeks open wide while he wiggles his finger deeper. I gasp as he stretches me, slipping a different finger inside my sex for lubrication before joining the first.
He’s stretching me with purpose.
I groan my pleasured assent and wiggle even harder against him, pushing back as his second fingertip massages around the entrance of my anus where the first is already inserted.
The flat, leathery tip of his tail has begun massaging my wet, swollen clit and I let out a high-pitched whine, so on edge even as there’s a small bite of pain as his second finger finally pops past the ring of muscle to make its way into my ass.
I know how thick his fingers are and the thought of two of them in my ass makes my head thrash back and forth in the spraying water.
Because I know his cock is even thicker.
His fingers hook inside me and he massages me, opening me up as he steps closer so I can feel his hardness between my legs.
“Will you let me take you completely?” he asks in my ear. I’m already nodding before the question is out. God yes. I feel so crazy turned on at the very thought.
“Let me hear you say it,” he rasps, his fingers working me even more fervently. “Beg for what only your dark god can give you.”
“P-p-please,” I finally manage words. “Please let me feel you there.”
“Where? Where do you want me?”
He spanks me with the hand not inside me.
“I want you to fuck my ass,” I holler, my voice echoing back in the small, enclosed chamber of the shower.
“That’s right,” he growls. “You are mine.”
Then I feel his cock drag along my pussy lips between my legs before it’s there where his fingers are. At the same time I feel his hardness nudging while his fingers pull out, his tail moves from my clit to probe at my pussy’s entrance.
I gasp, my fingers again scrabbling against the wet marble.
The next moment, he’s penetrating me. Both from behind, and oh, god—
I reach a hand down from the marble and clench it around the thick tail that has just slid inside my pussy, urging it deeper. Fuck, that’s so dirty. And so right. I feel completely claimed.
“Yes,” Remus says, “You are mine. Finally. Completely. Mine.”
“How much control do you have over your tail?” I whimper as I grasp the thick appendage even harder. It swivels around in my pussy while the intense fullness of him at my backside has my eyes rolling back in my head.
“Not much, why?” Remus says, at the same time that a nearly but not quite identical voice says, “Complete. And I can feel everything.”
“What the—” Remus starts to tug away, but I hold tighter to his—their—tail.
“Don’t go,” I beg, wild with lust and on the edge of the headiest orgasm I’ve ever had. Are Remus and Romulus really both there? Both awake and penetrating me at the same time? I clench all my muscles on their cock and tail, and almost simultaneously, both of their voices groan in deep pleasure.
“Feel her brother,” comes Romulus’s voice. “She wants this.”
“How are you awake?” Remus growls but doesn’t pull away this time.
Instead, he only grips my hips and begins to move his cock in my ass, plunging slightly in and out in a way that has me barely able to separate one thought from another.
Especially while the tail in my pussy has found an especially sensitive spot that has my eyes flying open.
“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Romulus says. “Let’s take care of her. Together, brother.”
I gasp, my fingernails squeezing the tail as pleasure bites through me. G-spot. I think Romulus found it and is massaging my G-spot with such intensity that I—
At the same time, Remus’s cock presses forward between the thin layer of flesh between their two appendages, making it feel sooooo—
I scream and thrash, their hands keeping me up as I give over to the pleasure spiking from my pelvis outward. It feels like a miracle, and my entire body seizes and clenches on both of them.