Chapter 12 #2
His hand leaves my pussy, and he splays it across my upper chest, dragging it down between my breasts, his eyes following the movements.
When it gets to my navel his hand fans out around my hips and buttocks and to the back of one of my thighs.
He wraps the leg around his hip, then does the same to my other, hoisting me higher against the wall until we’re nearly lined up.
I bite my lower lip, watching him.
Need to be inside her…
I catch Memnon’s stray thought as he spreads my thighs apart, fitting his cock into place.
His eyes flick to mine and hold. I don’t breathe as the two of us stare at each other. He doesn’t break eye contact when, with a single, punishing thrust, he enters me.
I cry out at the intrusion, only for Memnon’s mouth to find mine, devouring the sound. He presses in closer, the action deepening the stretch.
Then he begins to thrust. Again and again and again. Not waiting for me to catch up. My nails bite into his skin where I grip him, and I hold him close. Each stroke has more rawness than Memnon’s usual thrusts. But this is not typical Memnon. The monster that lives in his magic is in control now.
“You are mine, my queen,” he says in Sarmatian. “To protect, to love. To claim as my own.” The words echo in that deep, unnatural way, and though they give me the chills again, I’m not terrified by him the same way I have been.
The proclamation is punctuated by more brutal strokes. They’re coming fast and deep, and I can rapidly sense my orgasm approaching.
“Let me see you,” I whisper against his ear.
Memnon doesn’t slow, but he does pull away from where he’s buried his face in my shoulder. Under the shower spray, his wet hair looks like snakes shifting as his power moves it. He really does appear otherworldly like this.
I don’t remember a time when his power rode him this long. It lingered after he saved me from Juliana, and it almost wholly consumed him after he encountered Eislyn. I’d been able to coax him back then.
Perhaps it’s getting worse.
I move aside a lock of hair. “Come back to me, Memnon. I love you. We are eternal.”
His eyes don’t dim. Instead he drives into me mercilessly.
I shiver, half from the sight of him and half from the water, which is growing cold once more.
Memnon’s hips pause, his eyes dropping to the raised gooseflesh along my skin.
Abruptly he withdraws from me, his magic turning the shower off. My legs slide back to the ground as he steps out of my embrace and leaves the shower, only to return with a towel.
The whole thing happens so fast, the sorcerer going from erotic and punishing to doting and concerned, I have whiplash from it.
He wraps the towel around my body and lifts me once more.
You don’t need to manhandle me, Memnon. I really can walk.
The sorcerer doesn’t respond, just continues carrying me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.
My eyes take it all in rapidly—the carved black bedframe and sapphire blue comforter, the cream and jewel tone décor, the exposed timber ceiling and iron chandelier. It feels opulent.
I try to slip from Memnon’s arms.
“No, no, no,” he says ominously. He tosses me onto the bed, my ass in the air for a split second, before Memnon grabs me by my hips. With another ruthless thrust, he reenters me.
I gasp, dropping my head to the sheets as my body surges forward.
He leans in close. “Did you think it was over?”
Goddess, but his voice is downright spooky like that. Tell me why my core clenches at the sound of it.
He squeezes my hips, then resumes the merciless pace he had in the shower.
You’re mine, little witch. Mine to do with as I please.
Hardly.
No, I protest. I might be a fool for him, but even I have my limits.
I feel his sadistic little smile rather than see it.
Fine, he concedes, to do with as you please.
I can barely keep up with his punishing strokes. I’m gasping and chanting his name, and I can feel my climax drawing closer and closer.
“Come for me,” he growls in that unearthly tone.
I swear his words must be an incantation because no sooner has he uttered them than my orgasm swells then crashes through me.
I cry out, gripping the bed uselessly.
Behind me, Memnon laughs like the maniacal bastard he is.
My climax hasn’t fully subsided when Memnon pulls out and drapes himself along his bed only to drag me back down on top of him, his cock reseating itself in a fluid thrust.
I stare down at him. He’s luminous, otherworldly like this, his indigo magic swirling out of him, his eyes glowing and his hair twisting. And in this position, the power dynamic shifts, placing me in control.
I begin to move, watching those glowing eyes.
I lean over him. “Memnon, my Memnon.”
I trail my fingers over his face, then brush kisses along his cheek, then his nose, then his chin.
This sort of intimacy is still new to me, but I cautiously try it out.
All the while I roll my hips, forcing the pace between us to slow down until it’s languid, decadent.
Slow enough to savor and enjoy without the franticness that drove him up until now.
I stare into those eyes that appear unseeing but track me all the same.
His grip tightens as he watches me, and he catches my lips.
My queen, my wife, my Roxi, my Selene.
Down our bond, I finally, finally sense something loosen in him. His grip on my hips relaxes as his hair settles and his eyes dim back to their normal smokey bourbon color.
Then those hands of his tighten all over again.
Selene?
His gaze is loving, but then, it seems to crumble as he stares at me.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.
My brows pull together. “About what?” I’m still moving against him.
Memnon draws in a deep breath, his eyes pinching shut. “My power. I lost control, even when it came to you.”
I see him swallow.
I drape myself over his inked torso and rest my chin on my hands as I stare up at the planes of his face, letting his cock slide out of me.
“I lost control on Samhain—”
He shakes his head. “You know that’s not the same, little witch.”
“You were a little bossy, but…” How do I say that it was a little fun to fuck the monster?
He frowns. The monster? Memnon echoes down our bond.
Oops. I hadn’t meant to share that thought.
“I think I do like even the scariest parts of you, Memnon,” I whisper. “And please don’t make me say that louder, or I will take it all back.”
He stares at me for a moment, then pulls me in close. Across our bond I can feel all the emotions welling within in—disbelief, relief, gratitude, but most of all…love. Love so vast it’s intimidating. Love that’s been built on not one but two of my lifetimes.
Love so big, it scares me more than his monster.
So I push myself up and find Memnon’s cock, and in one fluid movement, I reseat myself on him.
“Now, sorcerer, finish what you’ve started…”