Chapter Nine
My Agatha bursts into the building like her skirt is on fire.
“My boss is a warlock! A really powerful one! He flew a dozen doughnuts in a figure eight around my office this morning!” She runs into the room and places her palms on either side of the mirror, panting into my face.
“I ran the whole way from the parking lot in these heels.” She gulps down air.
“I told him all about you, and he says you don’t have to stay in that mirror—but you do have to stay bound to something or you’ll lose your—uh—existence. But you could be out! Free. Freeish.”
I smile at her rampant enthusiasm, at her trust in others—and at the fact that after centuries of circling the globe, I seem to have landed in the right place. “I need the mirror to live, my love. He’s right that I must be bound to something, and I’m not sure what would be better.”
“Well, think about it, okay? If we... If we’re going to be together, it would be nice if you had a less stressful place to live.”
I arch one snow-white brow. “Less stressful?”
“You always have to change shape at a second’s notice. That’s not hard?”
“I’m good at it by now. It has its uses.” I easily change to Agatha’s form, minus clothing, and watch her blush and gasp.
“Stop that!”
“Why?”
“I’m having a serious discussion.”
“I seriously admire your body,” I purr, running my hands down the soft curves I mimic.
Agatha stares. Licks her lips. “Do I really look like that? Sexy like that?”
I contain my laughter with an effort. “False modesty, empress?”
“No! I... When you have depression and anxiety, or you feel like the world is tilting and spinning out of balance from meds, you don’t feel sexy.
You feel like someone’s old broccoli casserole.
There were days when I considered it a huge accomplishment to brush my teeth, let alone change out of grubby pajamas. ”
“But, my love. You’re so incredibly elegant. You don’t dress like the women on Jane’s television. You have style,” I praise, morphing into my favorite outfit of hers—the tight black vest and skirt with the fine white stripes that accent every curve with their contrasting narrowness.
“You think I’m elegant?”
“Incredibly.”
“And sexy?”
“Perfectly so.”
Aggie strokes her fingers across my cheek, dancing across the glass, so close, yet so far. “You have to say that though, don’t you? You don’t exactly date.”
With a sizzle of energy, I’m back to my own form, glowering and drawing myself up to my full height.
“Do you think so little of my charms? I’ve had dozens of women to compare you to—daughters of noble houses, busty little serving maids, hardworking, lonely wives.
.. A thousand years have passed, and the only time I’ve called a woman elegant or sensual.
.. or the empress of my heart is right now. With you.”
She melts, starting with her smile and following with the tears in her soft, shining eyes.
“I could be lying to you, of course—but that wouldn’t get me anywhere new. I’ve already sampled this luscious body,” I point out, melting back to a twin of Agatha’s body, running my hands over naked breasts, plucking her hard nipples as she watches, squirming.
“Come out here if you’re going to do that! Horny phantasm.”
I smile as long curling horns sprout from my scalp, shimmering in dark, lustrous waves. “You look like Ishtar, now, a goddess and an empress.”
“Not horny like that. Amorous. Wanting to make love again. Come here.” Aggie beckons me with a come-hither look and curling finger.
She could coax the salt from the sea—but I’m too weak to obey.
“Tomorrow, my darling. Tonight, I’m too spent. Too weak. Spending almost half a day out of my realm drained me.” I press my fingertips through the glass, and they remain there. My arm is too weak to follow them out. “You see now why my strength is in my words, my mental games.”
“I don’t know about that,” Aggie proceeds to strip out of her suit and step out of her heels, her tongue gliding over her lower lip as her eyes smolder on mine. “I felt all those muscles. Not just your chest, but other muscles. The ones wrapping around my legs—pulling them open...”
“Don’t torture me... even if I deserve it,” I plead.
“I’m not torturing you. I’m helping us both.”
It’s my turn to gasp and flush as my seemingly shy Agatha turns into a siren, baring every inch and perching on the edge of her bed.
In seconds, I follow suit, floating instead of perching, but my cock now in my hand, full and hard.
“I can’t penetrate the mirror, but I’m dreaming of penetrating that tight little pussy of yours again,” I grunt between gritted teeth.
“You mean this tight little pussy?” Agatha makes herself a backrest of pillows and spreads her knees, showing me her glistening folds.
“That’s not the part I was thinking of, beautiful though it might be.” My fist tightens as my cock grows and swells, forcing my fingers to spread to accommodate it.
“Oh, you mean this?” Aggie leans back further, two fingers sliding up and down her olive outer lips, spreading and pressing in and apart to reveal the pearly pink within.
“That,” I agree, the word a lustful snarl.
“I thought about you all day. Every time I sat, I felt the pull. You stretched me so much. Amazing that—” Agatha looks right at me and pushes two fingers into her hole, taking them until her knuckles rest against her opening— “I’m still so tight.
See how my pussy closes right around my fingers?
I bet you’d like that to be your cock, wouldn't you, Lucius?”
“Tomorrow night it will be.”
“Tomorrow I have book club,” she says with a saucy smile, fingering herself slowly.
“When you return,” I growl.
“Maybe.” Her fingers move faster.
My little minx enjoys our verbal taunting.
Well, so do I. I rise up in the mirror and show just how thick and heavy my cock hangs, my phallic tentacle seeking her heat.
“Maybe? No, there’s no doubt. Tomorrow night you’ll beg for my cock to push inside of you and split you open, filling you until you can’t hold another inch. Just like last night.”
“Lucius...” Her hand continues to stroke, harder and faster. I can hear the wetness on each thrust.
“Another finger, love. You can take more than two.” I press my cock to the mirror, letting her see the beads of pre-cum already dotting the crown.
Aggie stops trying to speak and just falls back, one hand cupping her breast as she works a third finger inside of her dripping slit.
“When I’m out with you tomorrow night, my tongue is going to chase each of those little streams. Salty sweet honey, just going to waste.
..” I sigh and work my hand up and down faster, matching the pace of her frantic wrist. “I think you like putting on a show, empress. A reward for your faithful legions.”
“Maybe I do. Maybe it’s just for you... my mirror in so many ways.”
Her hand travels from her breast to her clit, rubbing it while her fingers work inside, sandwiching my soft pink treasure between them. Even in my human past, I never got to see such sights as this. Women in my time weren’t this bold, and lighting was always quite poor.
“The sight of you is enough to make any man lose control,” I warn.
“Well, I’m the empress tonight, so you’d better not come until I do, right?” she laughs, but there is a challenge in her words.
Waiting longer to watch her more? To watch her come undone as I describe what I’ll do to her tomorrow night?
“I accept your challenge. I’ve never backed away from a fight,” I hiss, hands moving away from my cock—although my tentacles protest and two of them start to twine around my member, making a soft, shadowy mouth.
“But tomorrow night, you will have to obey me. And I will demand you pleasure me in that pretty mouth. Not to mention, I won’t be content to stop after one time, or even two.
No, no. Each time I return to your world, I build up my tolerance, provided I don’t stay too long.
Would you like to be fucked three times in a row, Agatha?
On your knees? All tied up in my tentacles?
Both holes filled? All three? I can make that happen quite easily, you know. ”
Aggie keens and her hips leave the bed, thighs twitching. “Fuck, Lucius, I want you, now. I want you right now!”
This prison tortures us both. But would another prison be any better? What in God’s name would let me be with her as often as I like, as often as she craves?
Nothing. There is nothing that would let me be in her world without losing strength.
“Come for me, baby, please! Please, lover, come for me, too?” she begs, still rubbing, still thrusting, craning her head to look into my eyes.
I spurt across the surface of the mirror with a loud, soul-emptying groan.
I don’t tell her what I’ve realized. That we can’t be together the way she deserves.
“Baby? What’s wrong? That wasn’t a good idea, huh?” Agatha sits up and wipes her hand across her discarded skirt.
How I wish my tongue was there to clean those fingers...
“It was a marvelous idea.”
“But you look sad.”
“Because you should be taken in my arms and loved repeatedly, then cradled and cuddled and thanked for giving me such pleasure,” I murmur, fingers pushing through the glass with all my effort.
My sweet Agatha. My queen, she debases herself for me, kissing each fingertip with a little suck of her lips, making me tingle all over. “Don’t worry. Tomorrow night, I’m all yours. In fact, I’m all yours right now. Wait! Let me wash up, and I’ll be right back!”
I wait. Where else could I go?
In a few minutes, Aggie shoves and grunts her way back into the bedroom, her towel-wrapped form now carrying a pretty antique wingback with her book balanced on top of it.
“I’ll read to you about Pine Ridge and tell you all about my day.
I’m just going to eat some leftover lo mein from the Jade Forest—that’s the Chinese place in town. Oh. Can you eat? Do you want...”
“When I’m in the mortal realm, I’ll try some of your delicious cooking, but in the meantime, I’m content to have your company and hear about your day.”
“I’ll get you audiobooks! I can leave my laptop open and plugged in with a bunch of audiobooks loaded up. The Pine Ridge library has a ton of ebooks and audiobooks we can borrow!”
To read again! To hear stories, and to have a companion? “You are more than an empress. You are an angel.”
“Nah.”
“You don’t realize what you’re giving me,” I argue, and I’m angry about it. I should give her more. I want to. I intend to.
My prison’s bars were never tighter than this moment.
“Lucius.” Agatha slips into a cream-colored silk nightie and robe, her dark hair mussed, and her cheeks flushed. “You don’t realize what you have given me.”
She deludes herself. She was happy and thriving without me.
“A soldier’s greatest delight and duty is proving himself to the emperor. I can do so little for y— Aggie!”
Agatha’s palm comes out hard and fast and thumps the mirror, sending it swaying, making me cry out in shock.
“Don’t talk that way! You should know more than anyone else that the most precious things are here and here.
” She taps her head, then her heart. “You feed both of those. You ‘prove’ yourself to me. What’s more, you make me feel less anxious.
Less afraid.” Her bold eyes drop to her lap, and she studies her fingers.
“You make me think. You make me feel powerful, and like I have powerful friends who would protect me. A man who loves me—even if you don’t, it’s okay, it’s a good feeling.
Not to mention, you understand feeling lonely, feeling trapped inside yourself. ”
It’s my turn to snap my hand against the mirror, to bring her eyes back to me.
“In my day, we met and married within weeks, or our brides were presented to us. Do not say it is permissible for me to give you this feeling of love without actually meaning it. I would never be so false—not to you. If love is the feeling that I would gladly endure a thousand years of pain again to end up by your side, then I love you, Agatha.”
She’s so beautiful when she cries this time. Happy mouth, overflowing eyes. Her palm pressed to mine.
“Thank you, Lucius. My love. So. Um. Shall we read?” she whispers, voice thick with tears.
“Yes, my dearest.”