Chapter 27 #2
My mouth floods with saliva as I reach out to grip him.
He is so large my hand cannot circle his girth fully.
I’m apprehensive about whether he will be able to fit inside me, but I nudge that concern aside as I flutter the tip of my tongue along the length of his shaft before sucking the head into my mouth, bathing the broad shape in a wet heat.
A prolonged Ahh cracks out as the East Wind tosses back his head. The sound is a torment. I suck him deeper.
“Fuck, your mouth will be the end of me.” At the next hard suck, he goes rigid. “Oh, gods.”
Soft laughter ripples outward from my throat and along his shaft.
Eurus digs his heels into the rug, hips lifted.
I interpret that as an invitation to add more honey, more sweetness.
A slow, enthusiastic lick along the underside of his erection drives Eurus’ fingers into my hair. I wince at the sting along my scalp.
“Sorry,” he whispers, loosening his grip. He’s panting, eyes blurred.
My smile is far too smug. “Don’t apologize.” It is a heady feeling, having reduced this all-powerful deity to simple grunts.
I return to my sweet yet cruel ministrations. Eurus’ body tightens as I lure him to the edge before backing off. Again, I coax him nearer to completion. At one point, I add my hand to the mix so that every inch of his cock is wrapped in warm, delicious pressure.
“Bird.” His breath comes short. His hands make claws around the chair arms. “Feels… too good.”
I peek through my lowered lashes. Give a nice, long suck.
“Fuck!” Hauling me upright, the East Wind flips our positions so that I’m sprawled across the armchair and crushes his mouth onto mine.
The kiss stings, our mouths so fully mated I am convinced I have climbed inside his skin. The scent of his arousal fractures my thoughts, and I moan as he cups my breasts in his massive hands.
A hard pulse of warmth floods between my thighs. His rough palms scrape deliciously across my aching nipples, which he flicks playfully. He then replaces his hands with his tongue, dampening one nipple, pulling back so the cooler air draws it to a painful point.
Eventually, his dark eyes lift to mine. “I’d like to return the favor, bird. That is, if you’re up for it.”
He must sense my confusion, for he grips the tops of my thighs and tugs them wide so that I am bared indecently before him. His nostrils flare, and he dips his head near the glisten of my aroused flesh.
My heart stops. Just… collapses inside my chest.
I nod, and Eurus lifts my legs, draping them over his shoulders so my heels rest between his wings.
A beam of moonlight pierces the gloom to bathe the right side of his face.
The East Wind, born of shadow and storm and strife.
How did we get here? How is it possible that I—a mortal woman—have found myself caught in his arms?
Hot pleasure douses my every thought as he rubs his palms along the outsides of my thighs, settling in. Tracing the edges of my folds, he gently opens me before leaning forward. His mouth parts. I tense in anticipation of the touch.
A hairsbreadth away, he halts.
I shift position in an attempt to lift my sex toward his mouth. “Eurus.” My core pulses in demand. It wants the thorough devotion of his tongue, the raw sounds of his pleasure.
Instead, his eyes flutter shut, and he inhales.
The sight scorches me from fingers to toes. When he opens his eyes, I gasp. They are wholly black.
“Do you know what I want most, bird?” the East Wind rumbles.
“N-no?”
“This.” Snatching the jar of honey, he dabs some onto my folds. Before I can process what is happening, he sucks them into his mouth.
I cry out, pressing against his fervent tongue. He growls hungrily and laps at the honey, coasting lower. He lingers at my entrance, tickling the outer edges until I relax and open slightly, allowing his tongue to push halfway inside.
The sight of Eurus pleasuring me sends another scorching wave to flood my insides. The burn, the burn. I release a string of mangled pleas, my voice growing hoarse. It is everything. Too much, yet not enough.
I dig my heels into his back, forcing my core harder against his mouth as he continues to lick ever deeper. The heat builds. I gasp, hips lifted. “There. Please. Oh—”
At the next hard suck, I shatter.
Ripples shudder outward through my core, and I keen, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as he anchors my hips, continuing to pluck at the raw, open nerves between my legs until the wave dissipates and I sag back into the chair.
“I can’t move my legs,” I whisper.
The East Wind barks out a laugh. Every crease of his smile, every awkward tug around his scarring, even the glisten of wetness coating his lips from where he tasted me… I have fallen for this god. There is no way around that truth. And I don’t know what to do about it.
We shift positions once more. Eurus draws me back onto his lap, our faces tucked close. My knees dig into the cushion, a soft squeak in the night.
“You’re in control,” he says, his features drawn sharp with hunger.
After positioning his cock at my entrance, I sink onto Eurus in measured increments, my body gradually adjusting to his girth. I feel every inch of him, from the solid base to the wide head.
“Good?” he murmurs, watching me through hooded eyes.
I nod, rising onto my knees. Then I sink back down.
I delight in the East Wind’s shiver, his focus honed to repress his body’s urges: to claim, assert, plunder. And that, I think, will simply not do.
Capturing his mouth, I increase my pace, a hard, brief fuck, until I manage to wrench a choked groan from him. Only then do I slow, soothing his throbbing cock with the warm clasp of my body.
“You’re teasing me,” he manages.
I smile. “Maybe.”
“Well, don’t stop on my account.” When I shift my hips forward a fraction, his cockhead grazes my front wall, and I falter, the waves of pleasure vaulting ever higher, sharpened peaks that shave my desire to the thinnest of blades.
The East Wind rests his head against the back of the chair, eyes hazy as I ride him.
Eurus might be a god amongst gods, but here, now, he is a tool used for my own pleasure.
And as I feel myself tightening, Eurus urges me onward, praising me with Good girl, and Keep going, bird, and I love the way you look when you’re fucking me.
And I feel beautiful, empowered, strong, seen.
“Eurus.” I choke for air as his hands wander up my front, one settling like a heavy collar around my neck. The pleasure-pain is splintering my mind.
“Tell me how it feels, bird,” he grinds out against my mouth. “Tell me how I fill you. Tell me there is no one else.”
The chair squeaks in time with his thrusts. Through slitted eyelids, I watch Eurus’ expression grow strained, sweat beginning to bead on his brow. He demands the truth? I will give it to him.
“It feels better than anything I’ve ever experienced,” I pant out. “You’re the only one who can make me feel this good. There is no one else. There can’t be.” And I mean it, because in this moment I cannot bear to consider a future without him. Without this. Without us.
“Gods, bird, I—” Eurus bites back an oath. “Don’t stop.”
My core pulses, and I am that much nearer to release. Drawing his touch downward, the East Wind grazes my legs, hips, stomach. Each fingertip, a spark along my skin.
I bite the inside of my cheek, another moan caged behind my teeth. Yes, there, please, more. I’ve the crazed urge to burrow into his chest, wrap myself around his heart and lungs so there is no separation between us.
When he brushes the nub above my drenched sex, I tighten around him. Again, he sweeps the pad of his finger across, tracing the raised edge. Sweat weaves down my face and neck. It spatters Eurus’ chest, and I must be out of my mind, because I lean forward to lick him clean.
He groans, watching the place where our bodies join, his shaft glistening with my wetness. At the next thrust, he hits a spot that makes me see stars.
“I’m close,” I gasp.
“Come for me, bird,” the East Wind croons. “That’s it.”
I fall forward, sobbing out my pleasure as my core clamps tightly around his shaft and I tumble off the edge into release.
Down, down, down I spiral, the pressure crushing on all sides. The dull pulsation at my center abruptly sharpens and explodes outward. I bite Eurus’ neck, my cry muffled. The world blurs, then whites out completely.
Yet still I move. And still he moves. The East Wind fucks me hard, and he fucks me deep, and I take it, because I want to know that I have driven him to insanity.
We have no beginning and no end. We are perpetuity, we are the earth and sky, we are the black fathoms of the sea.
And I have never felt such belonging, such safety, as I do now in his arms. This god, this wretched divine, my captor.
He is more than his past, more than his scars, more than the darkness and grief and isolation.
Eurus might not know it, but he is mine.
The world returns to me in pieces. There is sight: the moon’s pale touch painting strips across the room.
Then sight drifts to sound: the creak of the chair frame beneath our combined weight.
And sound drifts, then, to touch: the East Wind’s weighted palm dragging up my spine, then down.
The sweetest of kisses pressed upon my brow.
Gathering me close, Eurus carries me to his bedroom and settles me amongst the pillows. They smell of him, of Marles. I burrow into the blanket’s many pleats while he stretches out alongside me, one hand curved over my hip, the other playing with strands of my hair.
I cup his warm cheek. Might I tell him how I feel? That I do not wish for the sun to rise. That I promise to shield his heart from the world’s sharp corners. That I love him wholeheartedly—mind, body, soul—and never wish to be parted from him.
The answer is this: I cannot. Because tomorrow, he will take me back to St. Laurent. I will live out my mortal life, and he will live his days eternal. These are the rules that bind us. There can be no other way.
Eurus skates a thumb across my cheek. In the pools of his dark eyes, I see a thousand shivering stars. “I am,” he whispers coarsely, “very glad to have met you, bird.”
I cover his hand with mine, finding it suddenly difficult to swallow.
How far must I fall before the impact shatters my bones?
Sometimes, I envision a world where I could have both Eurus and St. Laurent.
I could have belonging and security. But the image remains unfinished.
I am given only glimpses, pieces: the future incomplete.
We have only tonight.