Epilogue
“Ilike you better naked.”
“That’s easily arranged.” Lucius snaps his fingers as he reclines on my bed, and his glorious form is back on display.
I guess it’s our bed now. Our bed, our apartment, our cat. Poor Berry finally came out from under the bed on Thursday morning.
But right now she’s sensibly snoozing in the wingback chair that’s been returned to the living room. “Tomorrow night, let’s go to the Night Market and get something pretty to hang where the mirror used to be,” I whisper, climbing into bed.
“Don’t you want another mirror, so you can watch me making love to you?” Lucius’ tentacles wrap slowly, sinuously around my bare leg and my arm. His head tilts, and his angular chin fits right into the hollow of my neck, pressing kisses to the place where my pulse jumps.
“I would like that—but I don’t know if I can ever trust another mirror again. Well, not unless Alban checks it out for me first.”
“He turned out to be a nice little warlock. I like the kilt he sent over.”
“That was from Douglas Wickstaff, and he says you have to give it back.”
“I can go out and about and meet people. And see things—as long as you're with me,” Lucius’ eyes glow with excitement.
“In time, Alban says you’ll probably be fine to go out and about on your own—as long as you spend some time in your ‘anchor’ every day or so.”
“Well, I intend to make sure I build up my strength so I can go out and be useful. Do the shopping. Pick up the cat food. Take Berry to the vet. Find work.”
“Hmmm. What would a good job be for a man with your ancient wisdom and military training?” I muse.
“I’ll figure that out later. Step one is being anchored to this mortal coil.” Lucius’ tentacles creep up my thighs, slowly, tiptoeing.
“Alban said all we have to do is hold hands,” I remind him with a shrill laugh as the tips tickle behind my knee.
“Is he a phantasm? Does he know? No. I have all sorts of time to make up for, empress.” He smiles, pulling me over top of him with a sudden tug and pull. “I do believe we should try out every possible connection we can forge.”
“Oooh, that’s right. We have research to do.” I sit back on my knees and push my hair to one side. I bend, but not far. Lucius’ long, thick rod stretches and grows on command, sliding up past my breasts and brushing under my chin. “You want to put this where?” I tease.
“Every opening you possess, but I’ll start with that sweet mouth.”
I bow my head and slide my tongue across the end.
He’s soft and silky at the tip, but the texture of his skin is dense yet malleable.
I’m tempted to bite down and feel it give, but I don’t, instead reveling in the sounds he makes as I suck him into my mouth and cry out when he continues to grow, pressing against the back of my throat.
My pussy immediately floods, the same way it does when Lucius’ hand locks around my throat.
“Good girl. You like that sensation of slipping away safely, not into that long slumber, just a little break from breathing. A place where someone else has the control. All great queens need that respite, empress.”
I moan. He’s right. I tried to do too much, and I crashed, almost died.
I looked for ways to control so many things, to control every symptom and fear to stay “well,” that I wasn’t aware how fragile I was becoming.
All that’s different now, and I love my life.
Love the way Lucius reminds me that he’s in control—just for a second.
The cock surges forward and blocks my airway for a second, but I don’t fight it.
I’m too busy squirming as another slippery black tentacle flicks between my legs.
It parts my wet folds and finds my entrance as his cock starts to pump in and out of my mouth.
“How?” I ask when I squeeze his thigh, signaling I want a pause.
“I’m nice and stretchy—and so are you,” he purrs, sending a second tentacle inside of me, making me draw my knees up at the sudden strain.
“Oh! Oh, that’s too much,” I warn.
“No, it isn’t. You want all of me in you.
I think so many wish for things they can’t have—but my empress can have it all.
A devoted legion, willing to serve,” Lucius doesn’t budge, and his tentacles take turns pistoning inside of me, pushing up and pulling out but never fully leaving my straining pussy, spread and stretched around him. “Shall I add a third?”
“No!” I whimper. “N-not today,” I lick my lips and try to control the quiver in my voice.
“Then perhaps another day? Or another hole?”
Slippery tips circle my anus, teasing the opening, flirting with penetration. “Lucius!”
I don’t get a chance to speak. “Let me handle things for a moment, Aggie,” he whispers with a wink.
Let him fuck me in every hole, limp across my bed like a ragdoll, every erogenous zone being pleasured and pressured?
Why not?
HER STEPFATHER CALLED her such vile things. Slut. Whore. He was an impotent little worm, jealous because he never had the forbidden fruit. I know what Aggie is. She is adventurous and needy, so ready to give and receive love.
Her body is my plaything for a torrid half hour, filling each of her holes, separately and at once, feeling her buck and scream her orgasm around my cock and tentacles, watching her posed and pulled as she went boneless after her peak.
Her sweet little slit is swollen and puffy now, all the meat of her pussy visible when I part her folds. Her tight opening grips my finger as I lick her clit and watch my silvery essence dribble out, a single creamy trickle that can barely fit through the tight pink walls clamped together.
“You loved that, didn’t you?” I ask, kissing her hand.
“So good.”
“You know I love you, don’t you?”
The passion pauses, and she smiles, the dearest, tenderest smile. “I know.”
“And you’re quite a lot like me. You know that, too?”
“It’s why I love you back,” she reassures me.
“Then it’s my turn to be the plaything,” I laugh, pulling her tired body astride mine.
“Honey, I’m so achy!”
“And so tight. I’ll make you come again and again. And again.” I add an extra orgasm for good measure, kissing my way up her wrist.
“You’re very irresistible.” Her thighs wrap around my hips, and she rubs her heat to my half-erect member. “But this won’t do the job.” She roughly grabs my cock in both hands and begins to pump it, earning an instant groan of pleasure.
“You have such wicked desires, Agatha. I can tell.” It’s a compliment.
By the way Agatha smiles, I know she understands that.
“Hmmm. I think we might be sufficiently ‘anchored’ for one evening,” she taunts, threatening to slide off of me.
My tentacles wrap her up tightly, coiling her legs in my embrace as my cock hardens under her touch. “I believe one or two more times is in order—just to make sure.”
“Hmmm. Maybe.”
“If you’re very good, I’ll gladly let you test drive a different model,” I offer. “This face could be the face of anyone, you know.”
Agatha shakes her head. “You never have to change again, Lucius. Not for me, not for anyone. I want just you—only you. All of you.” Her fingers dig into my waist and slide down, scraping the sensitive underside of each tentacle she touches. “Just as you are.”
With an arch of her supple spine, Agatha leans back and raises her hips up. She guides my cock into her entrance, and there’s a hot, wet wall of silken resistance that I eventually manage to squeeze through.
Locked together in a tourniquet of bliss, we rock for a few moments before I realize I never thanked her for her words—or reassured her that I feel the same.
“All I want is you. All of you, just as you are,” I whisper back.
“You have me.”
I let out a long, well-earned sigh as I sink ever deeper into her. “Good.”