Chapter Twenty-One
Kris
Warmth bloomed in Kris’ belly at his words, the sense of contented peace swelling until he and her love for the man was all she could think about.
Not a man. She smiled at the reminder. He’s so much more than that.
All those years she’d survived without her father, without a man of any kind to love and uplift her. Those long years when her mother had worked two jobs to support them, and in return, Kris had got her head down and excelled academically in order to make her mum proud.
The two of them had done okay. Better than okay, really, and all along, her driver had been defiance; a need to stick two fingers up to the man who’d walked out of her life and never looked back.
She’d persuaded herself that she didn’t need him, didn’t need any man, but deep down, she supposed a part of her had known that wasn’t the truth.
She had needed her father, and she’d rued the day he’d abandoned her.
A part of her, she realized, was still that little girl sitting on her bed, sobbing for his return.
Perhaps that was why she’d chased silly boys like Shaun, looking for affection, affirmation, and attention from the opposite sex, because the one man who should have offered her those gifts had left and never returned.
She bit her lip. In the end, she was like so many women before her. Just another girl with daddy issues.
She suppressed the desire to roll her eyes, although she didn’t think her master would have been able to see the gesture from his vantage.
Still, she couldn’t risk him catching sight of the signal and misconstruing her intentions.
Having reached their delicate harmony, she had no wish to displease him again.
Not when things were so satisfying between them.
Brushing the side of her face against his leg, she sighed at the irony of it all. All those weeks she’d been hanging on Shaun’s every word, waiting to receive a message from him, when Kronos had been out there all along.
Just waiting to find her, to save her, and to love her.
He patted the thigh beside her head, the action drawing her focus back to his face, and lifting her chin, she saw his index finger curling in his direction.
“Get up here, little one.” His smile was mischievous. “Let us see if we can shed light on the puzzle of my waning sleep charms.”
She climbed from the cloud without hesitation, dragging the blue blanket with her.
Spending time out there with him was a constant source of captivation, and she still couldn’t fathom how the physics were possible—the breathable atmosphere, where she knew there had previously been none, the cloud they could actually sit on that her rational mind knew was made from nothing more than water droplets—none of it made sense.
She credited his magic with making those miracles possible, yet still she hoped to one day learn the science behind the sorcery.
Settling astride his lap, she resolved that she wouldn’t have the answers to those queries immediately, and she was okay with that.
A large part of Kronos’ appeal had always been his enigma, and she was thrilled there would always be more to learn from him.
She was sure even when she’d worked out how he’d created a home in the clouds, there would always be more fascination for her to follow.
For who could ever hope to fully understand a god?
Although, nudging his engorged erection, she was more than happy to try.
“I don’t have the answer, Master.” She pushed her hips forward, intentionally grazing her clit against his pulsing need and suppressing the whimper that wanted to rise. “The first time you used the magic on me, it seemed to work.”
“Yet you were awake when I came to you later that day.” His lids fluttered closed as she ground herself over him again. “I stood in the ether and watched you on the bed. You were definitely conscious.”
“I seemed to sleep even less the next time.” Her voice had morphed to a husky moan as she watched his responses carefully.
She longed to ride her master again, as she had on that first day, but at any moment, he could decide she was taking too many liberties, and she would find herself face down over him.
“That was when I woke up and had my first panic attack.”
Although there was no hint of the distress she’d experienced then as her hips bucked over him.
“Yes,” he concurred, his lips parting as one of his strong arms snaked around her middle. “I recall how the enchantment worked even less effectively then. That was why I strengthened the charm when I left to take Shelley back home.”
His gaze was back on her then, spearing her with its intensity.
“And yet still I woke up before you returned.” She brushed herself lightly over his hard length, aware of how ridiculously aroused she’d become sitting by his feet.
Her new life of submission held her in a constant state of suspended desire, but rarely had she ever been allowed to take such control over the proceedings.
“You did.” One of his tantalizing eyebrows cocked at the reminder, and her sex clenched in response. “And we both know what happened next.”
“Why don’t those charms work on me, Master?
” she reiterated, intentionally dodging his inference.
“I mean, your magic still works… The atmosphere around me, creating what my lungs think is oxygen, and the meal you manifested for me earlier, which was delicious. So, what is it about the sleeping charms?”
His arm tightened around her. “I don’t know,” he confessed. “But it seems to me, the more I feel for you, the less effective that magic has become.”
She stilled at the hypothesis, her breaths ragged as she gripped his shoulders. “That’s an interesting theory, Master.”
She didn’t know why the intensity of his sleeping enchantment would have been modified by his affection for her, but there did appear to be a potential correlation between the two variables, and the researcher in her liked the idea of investigating why that might have been.
“Mmmm.” He leaned closer, stealing a chaste kiss from her mouth before his free hand rose to hold the back of her head. “Perhaps you should research it, little one, because, if I’m right, the way I feel about you should mean you hardly sleep at all.”
She rocked over him, enjoying the scintillating friction at her clit. “Good idea, Master.”
“You can start the next time we come here.” His voice had deepened to a near growl.
“We should run experiments.” Her breathy tone sounded agonized. She was close, oh, so close to toppling into ecstasy, and balancing on the edge with him was divine. “You can try charms on me again, Master, and see how I fare.”
“Is my little one telling me what to do again?” His voice was sardonic, but her clit pulsed at the peril his query posed.
“Just a suggestion,” she rasped, her voice trailing away at the severity in his gaze.
His lips swooped in reply, stealing whatever she was about to say next as his tongue swept across her mouth. She groaned at the intimacy, grinding her hips against his shaft in the vain hope that he would take pity on her and let her ride him to orgasm.
“We can evaluate our results afterward and see what we find.” Withdrawing from the caress, she was pleased to see he didn’t genuinely seem riled with her.
“If it makes you happy, then yes.” His hand lowered to her back. “I so want you to be happy, little one.”
His breath was hot against her jaw as he continued. “Happy with your science, with your submission to me, and in knowing that while you have a magnificent life here, your loved ones know that you are safe and cared for.”
The arm that had been around her waist shifted, and slowly, both of his hands lowered to clutch at her ass cheeks.
She mewled as he lifted her body, skimming her sex over the tip of his cock.
Liberating one hand, he angled his shaft between her wet folds, and maintaining eye contact, he brought her down over him.
Her mouth opened to a silent ‘O’ when he speared her. “Thank you, Master.” Her hips snapped forward, chasing more of that delectable friction her sensitive nub sought.
“You shall have it all,” he snarled, releasing her backside and fisting her tresses once more.
“Oh, God,” she groaned, leaning into his palm while her hips kept up their relentless rhythm.
“Ride me.” His words were more of a sigh than a command. “Ride me until we both fucking come.”
She clenched at the order, teetering on the brink of euphoria as his cock slammed into her over and over.
Leaning against the muscular tower of his body, she arched to receive more of him, and there, trapped between his hard pectorals and his unyielding biceps, she succumbed to the wall of pleasure.
Ensnared in ecstasy, everything else was muted until all there was in the world was Kronos, his hot breath, his imposing body, and her desire to oblige all of him.
“Fuck, little one.”
His growl resounded when his peak washed over him, and she held on, riding the wave alongside him. In their perfect bubble of bliss, there were only the sounds of their ragged breaths and the certainty that this thing they’d found was vital, breathing life into them both.
They stayed there together for some unquantifiable amount of time, her limbs entwined around his hot flesh and her head heavy with gratification.
At length, she shifted, pressing a kiss to his taut chest as she straightened. His cock was still lodged inside her, and squeezing around his shaft, she smiled at his wry expression.
“I love you, Master.”
Staring into his eyes, no words had ever felt truer. For the first time, she was held, felt safe, and was seen. She finally had somewhere she could rest her head.
“I love you, Kristina.” There was a new warmth to his soft, purple eyes. “I vow to help you become whoever you want to be,” he purred, his lips grazing over her mouth. “And I know you shall do the same for me.”
She smiled at the simple surety of that sentiment, unable to fault his logic. When she looked at him now, she saw the face of her master, the god she would learn from while he ruled over her.
“That was a good lesson, Master.” Her tone had shifted from reverence to mischief.
“The best yet, little one.” That same, tempting eyebrow arched at her.
“And since things are so good, I wanted to ask you something.”
She tensed around his cock, aware that despite his declaration, it was still potentially perilous to make demands of the king of the Titans.
“What’s that?” he murmured.
“Well…” She ran a fingertip over his skin. “Since you know me so well, can you please just call me Kris?”
“Kris?” His eyes opened wider at her remark, the gesture just enough to spike her heart rate, even though his tone was playful.
“Yes,” she explained. “Nobody really calls me Kristina except my mum, and that’s only when she’s angry with me.”
“I don’t know about that, little one.” He leaned against the edge of his throne, his smile wry. “I think you’ll always be Kristina to me.”
Her lips curled at the simplicity of his perspective. When he put it that way, she could hardly argue.
“Fair enough, Master.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”
Let him call her Kristina or his little one.
What was important wasn’t the noun he chose, but the power of the feelings swirling between them, and for those newfound emotions, she was beyond grateful.
“You’re not going to try and leave again if I call you Kristina, are you?”
His tone was teasing, but the prison of his embrace already conveyed the answer.
She wasn’t going anywhere.
“Oh, no, Master,” she reassured him. “I couldn’t leave you even if I wanted to.”
The End