22. Florencia
22
Florencia
H ere I was, the wife of a god, a queen in my own right, and my job had suddenly become to teach my husband how to fuck me. His eyes were still burning straight through mine, as if my naked body was nothing in contrast to what he saw in them.
“Look at my body,” I instructed him. “Touch me.”
Elio’s hands lifted from his side, one moving to my hip and the other to my cheek, where he cradled my face.
With a sigh, I moved his hand from my hip to my breast, his grip cupping on instinct, his thumb grazing over the nipple. He wasn’t unteachable; that was comforting.
My skin pebbled on contact, the hairs on my arms coming to stand as he circled over the hardened bud with the softest touch. I hummed contently, closing my eyes and grinding against him.
His erection hardened beneath me, Elio’s grip on my face squeezing the more I moved against him. I was slick now, dripping onto him uncaringly as I reached down to feel him.
The head of his cock brushed through my folds as I pulled it from underneath me, an electrifying spark of pleasure running up my spine before I let him go. It bobbed, slapping against his muscular stomach, but it wasn’t the length or the width of it that had my eyes nearly falling out of my head.
“What is that?” I gasped, unable to keep my mouth closed as I stared at the bulge nearly all the way down his shaft.
His eyes lowered to it, confusion spreading over his face again. “I don’t know. It’s never done this before. It’s never felt like this or looked like this.”
I suppressed my laughter. “You’ve never had an erection?”
“No. I’ve never had a naked goddess dripping her arousal on my legs.” When he put it that way, it made every cell in my body hot.
I wanted to ride him, to fit whatever that thing was inside me until both of us came undone. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes.” He hissed the moment my hand made contact with it, the swollen flesh nearly scorching to the touch. “Every part of me hurts.”
His voice was tortured, his tone filled with an agony I couldn’t describe.
I squeezed, first the knotted lump, then moving my hand up and down against his length. A low growl erupted from his chest, his hand squeezing my breast with a deadly grip.
“Ah,” I cried. “Not so rough.”
His growl moved through his throat, escaping his mouth, his hand moving from my cheek to my hair. “I will not be able to contain myself if you keep going.” Elio pulled at my hair, exposing my neck to him. He took a deep inhale, appreciating my scent before licking up my jawline.
I was needy with desire, aching for release, but I knew this time, I would be the one working for it, so I’d have to make him wait for me.
“What are you doing?” His head whipped down at the feel of me releasing him.
I let out a playful chuckle. “It’s okay. I’m gonna make it feel even better.” I leaned closer, adjusting myself in his lap as I positioned myself perfectly over his cock.
“I think it needs to go inside you,” he whined, that dog-like way about him again.
“Oh definitely,” I agreed with a nod, rubbing the head of his cock back and forth against my clit, loving the way it made him moan, all pathetic and desperate-like.
“No.” He shook his head. “All of it.”
He meant that deadly thing halfway down his cock, the thing I was assuming would be my stopping point.
“Like part of the prophecy?” My eyes widened in alarm, but he nodded in confirmation.
It sounded absolutely insane, but just as I parted my lips to argue, I lost my advantage. One of my hands on his neck, the other still guiding his cock back and forth through my folds, he released my breast and hair, both hands firm on my hips.
And then, he was inside me.
Dripping wet and burning hot for him, there was no pain, no stretch, just a fullness that made my mouth water and my eyes roll back. He held me there, groaning and fighting through noises so wild and savage that if he’d moved, I knew we’d both explode.
We stayed like that, staring at each other, his eyes sometimes traveling down to where we connected, my breasts moving with each deep sip of air I choked on until we’d both settled. I brought my hands to his shoulders. “I’m going to ride you now.”
Elio nodded, dropping his head to my shoulder.
I lifted, feeling a sting of pain, sharp but not puncturing as he held onto me with his teeth. Lowering onto his cock, I moaned, dropping my head back as I relished this feeling.
He had called me a goddess, and in this moment, I felt it, taking and giving pleasure at my own whim, claiming my king and fulfilling our destinies. I moved my hips at a steady pace, moving up and down and grinding against the swelling flesh that kept me from sinking further down.
His teeth stayed wrapped around my shoulder, never biting hard enough to injure or mark me, just enough to hold on. “You feel so good.” He pulled away just long enough to speak. “It’s not enough.” His eyes turned a hungry shade of red, the look on his face threatening and lethal.
Fingers digging into my hips, giving me no space to run or move, Elio simply held on, his gaze glued to mine as he forced me lower.
“It hurts.” I shook my head, my nails digging into his flesh, but I was far too human to fight a god.
“It’s not enough,” he repeated, as if he somehow knew more than me, as if he was simply following an instinct that couldn’t be silenced.
“Ah!” The yell tore through my lips, the pain a burning stretch I’d never felt in my existence, “Elio, please, I can’t.”
But his mouth was on my shoulder again, teeth holding me while his hands pulled me down and his cock stretched deeper into me. The panic was overwhelming, the pain intensifying with each second. My body would never adjust to this; it couldn’t.
He was going to rip me in half.
“Elio!” A tear fell from a single eye just as he managed to push the rest of the way in.
The lump of flesh suddenly hardened, becoming part of his erection and stretching me even further. His fingers loosened, his grip releasing me as our bodies joined to completion.
He was fully inside me.
How, I wasn’t sure, but I needed him out immediately. I couldn’t take it; it was too much all at once.
“You’re crying.” He wiped my wet cheek.
I hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t biting me anymore. “It hurts.”
“I can’t explain it, my dream. But I think this is exactly how we’re supposed to be.” His nose was buried in the crook of my neck, memorizing my scent again.
“I-I can’t move.” I couldn’t stop crying. The realization that he was keeping me locked in place, physically, with him inside me, was more than I could handle.
A type of loss of control I couldn’t have predicted or prepared myself for.
“I don’t want you to.” He hummed in my ear, the vibration in his voice going deeper down my belly than I expected. “I have you right where I need you.”
He wrapped his arms around me, holding me closer than before. It was comforting in the way he was heavy, hard, and soft all at once. There was something frightfully intimate about this moment, like we were both seeing each other’s truths—he my fears, my warped mind, and how easy it was for panic to rule my body, and me the innocence he somehow held onto, quickly shifting and turning into something carnal and animalistic.
And then, he moved. Just slightly, only the little bit he could while the swollen knot at his base kept me attached to him. But it was enough, enough for him to hit exactly where I needed him to, for my toes to curl and for every anxiety to unravel from my body.
He did it again, the guttural groan spilling from my lips and making me sound like the uncaged animal for once. “Keep doing that,” I breathed out, our bodies pressed so close, there was no room between us. “Touch me,” I demanded anyway, moving his hand to where my clit waited, swollen and throbbing in anticipation.
He was very teachable, letting me move his fingers long enough to learn how I wanted to feel before trying on his own.
Sparks of pleasure erupted through me, my orgasm forcing every muscle in my body to convulse, my mate still holding me, burying himself as deep as he could. His roars of pleasure were uncontainable now, as if watching, feeling, hearing me unravel had awoken something inside him.
“Bite me again,” I begged, savoring the way his teeth clamped around me.
And then, he was a beast again.
Not in physical form, but the man was gone, acting purely on instinct and pleasure. Moving to feel, moving to connect. Fucking me with the veracity of a god, not a virgin.
One climax rolled into another, my screams turning into raspy pleas for more, and with every stroke, he sent me further over the edge. It was only when I was dripping in sweat, panting, spilled over him without functioning limbs, that he finally slowed but didn’t stop.
His movements became gentler, softer, but the bulge inside me didn’t let up.
Were we going to be this way forever?
Was this my destiny?
Fucked up, depraved, and yet…
Another shock of pleasure distracted me from my thoughts, Elio moving to stand and holding me to him.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“My queen is tired, and we are far from done.” He carried me, still fully skewered onto him as he walked us through the castle.
Far from done.
A threat, a promise, all in one.
Hot lava slid down my core again, only not dripping past my thighs due to the part of his anatomy that kept everything plugged inside me. I squeezed on command, a low sound coming from him. his length twitching from the pressure.
Stopping in his tracks, halfway up the spiral staircase that led to my tower, he pressed my back along the wall, nothing but smooth crystal behind me. “Here is fine too.” The warning was low, just loud enough for me to hear as he buried his nose into my scarred chest.
He took a deep inhale, a rabid look on his face, as if he could smell the mark he left on me, as if the wound was still fresh. Elio moved inside me again, never seeming to tire, a soft gasp echoing through the walls as he worked me up again.
With him locked deep inside me, it took almost nothing, just a slight push, to feel him all over again, to build the pleasure from scratch and watch it consume both of us.
My fingernails grazed the smooth crystal wall.
How much energy was it taking to keep up this farce?
“Take it down,” I gasped, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, the most human he’d looked yet. “The illusions. Take it all down. I want all your attention.”
My demand coaxed an ear-to-ear smile from him, first soft, warm, then predatory, his teeth white and glowing from the soft light piercing the windows. The crystal walls turned to stone, darkness shrouding the kingdom.
Elio’s thrusting turned into pounding, my back hitting the stone walls, my fingers gripping at their rough edges and his name falling from my mouth like it was always meant to be there.
I came again, this time taking him with me, pulling him deeper, the knot at his base pulsing inside me as he emptied himself.
“Florencia,” he whispered my name, a devotion only a god could grant.
His forehead met mine, not straying until my breathing settled once again.
Then, he spoke the words that truly frightened me.
“We aren’t finished.”
I didn’t think it was possible to be fucked within an inch of my life, but it was only when my tongue turned to sandpaper and my throat begged for water that we finally stopped.
The plug that kept us locked in place deflated and softened after the fourth or fifth time he emptied inside me, but even with it gone, it was easy to stoke his erection back to life. Even with it gone, I found I craved being locked onto him, keeping him at my whim.
We didn’t know each other, didn’t fully understand each other, but this thing we felt for each other was real, and we had eternity to figure the rest out.
I could be happy here, without the lies, with a version of Elio that didn’t need to play pretend.
I just needed to show him that.
I just needed to forget about Camazotz.
That was doable, right?
We were resting in bed, laying on our sides with my back pressed to his chest and his chin above my head, his cock softening but still inside me. I wasn’t sure how long we’d been here—hours, days, I couldn’t tell. My legs no longer worked; I wasn’t even sure my speech was cohesive.
I’d drifted in and out a few times, only waking up at the brink of a new orgasm and only staying awake long enough to deal out another.
I extended my arms out in a stretch and curved my back, a deep hum of pleasure slipping free when the thickness of his cock sprung back to life inside me. “How long can you keep doing this?” My voice was hoarse, but every part of my body said fuck water. Let’s get off again.
“As long as my dream desires.” His left hand found my breast, no longer inexperienced but knowing exactly how to move his fingers, pinching and drawing out my bliss.
Without a pause, he turned me to my stomach, pulling my hair to the side and turning my head with it so I could look back at him.
“Did my brother fuck you this way?” he asked, a dark expression on his face I’d yet to see.
I shook my head, answering truthfully. “No.”
With his hand on the flat of my back, he pushed himself inside me again, as if proving something to himself, or me, or Zotz as he fucked me to the edge of oblivion. My eyes saw nothing but colorful spots when I dared to open them again, my thighs squeezing and suffocating his cock.
His fingers reached under me, finding my clit and stroking with a professionalism that would have destroyed any mentally unstable person taking a high dosage of anti-come meds.
We came together this time, his hand moving from my breast to my heart, his palm flat as he felt my pulse against it. It seemed more intimate than the last few hours we had spent tangled together somehow. I closed my eyes, relishing the feel of his scorching hot skin against my own.
“I wish I could stay inside you forever, my dream,” he hummed in my ear.
“Ah, is it time for you to go to your god day job?” I teased with a giggle, his punishment coming in the form of sliding out of me.
He left behind a hollow, unpleasant feeling after being inside me for so long. My thighs clenched, legs squeezing together, as if I could somehow alleviate the feeling.
“I fear I’ll need you once more tonight.” His tone became sad, something I couldn’t quite pinpoint there.
“Need me?” I turned over once he lifted off me, a snap of his fingers covering us both again.
I was in comfortable clothing, soft pants and a t-shirt, him back in his chest-plates and godly garbs.
“I have reason to believe Camazotz will not come anymore, not with you here now.” He lowered his head, his eyes refusing to meet mine.
He was sad–no, he was heartbroken.
I stood, rushing to meet him, placing his hands in mine and bringing them to my chest. “I’ll help you.”