Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
The rest of Theo's world melted away. There was nothing that could touch him.
He ceased to exist where he sat on the banks of the river.
Lyra took control of the embrace almost instantaneously, and he let her, reveling in whatever she wanted to do to him.
If this was still remnants of her siren song, then so be it, because he had never been so enthralled.
Lyra’s arms wrapped around Theo's neck, and he gently maneuvered them until she was straddling his lap, both hands firmly gripping her waist.
Lyra bit and sucked and teased, pulling back and toying with him until he’d make a pathetic, keening sound for her to continue, and she would acquiesce.
Theo could feel her hard nipples through the damp fabric of her sham of a dress, rubbing against his chest with a torturous drag that threatened to send them both over the edge.
“L-Lyra, please.” Theo pulled away, gasping. “Can I touch you?”
He practically spat the words out, struggling to get enough air in his lungs to form words. His body was bursting with sensation.
The dichotomy of his life would forever be split in two: before and after Lyra. It surged in him with an accompanying vitality that reached a fever pitch when Lyra responded with a breathy ‘yes.’
Theo flipped them over, his hand going to cup Lyra's head so it didn't smack against the packed sand soil. She wrapped a leg around his waist and pulled him down to her until there wasn't any space between their bodies, only the overwhelming sensations of hot flesh and rough clothes.
Their kiss turned sloppy and uncouth, devoid of any seductive technique or finesse, only tongues and teeth and a desperate search to relieve the ache that had been building between them.
Theo was grinding against Lyra's core, thrusting forward with a solid power that had her choking on her own breath. While the rest of her skin was always damp and smooth, cool to the touch, in comparison, the heat between her legs was a raging inferno. It threatened to burn Theo alive if the fire in his own blood didn’t take him first.
Lyra bit his lower lip, hard, drawing a fleck of blood that she licked up with her tongue, smirking at Theo's hiss of pleasure and pain.
His control snapped, and he started thrusting against her, again and again, in a cruel mimicry of sex that forced Lyra to confront just how good he'd be if he were stroking inside her.
She found herself moving with each stroke, Theo and Lyra grinding against each other in the sand like animals.
Lyra was close to exploding, and she could tell by Theo's stuttering tempo that he was, too.
“Stop, s-stop,” Lyra wheezed out, tapping him on the back.
Theo froze instantaneously, rolling off her without a second thought. She whimpered at the loss of him and reached towards Theo.
“What's wrong?”
“No, come back to me,” Lyra pleaded, shutting off her mind to chase her baser instincts. “On your back,” she commanded, leaving no room for argument.
Theo rolled over and raised his hands above his head in mock surrender, trying to breathe.
His pants were tented with the obscene sight of his clothed erection, every bit of blood and bone in his body begging for release.
He couldn't think of any other time in his life when he'd been this hard, and whatever Lyra wanted in this moment, he'd give it to her.
“Mmmm,” Lyra purred, her eyes going to his crotch.
She shimmied up his legs, moving like she was made of water, her hair shining like black ink in the rising moonlight.
“May I?” Lyra asked coquettishly, stroking one fingertip down Theo's painful erection. He nearly shouted at the touch, already oversensitive and desperately trying not to come in his pants at the slightest provocation.
“Y-yes, fuck, holy fuck, yes.” Theo started babbling out a string of words to convey his consent, squirming in the dirt. Lyra took no pity on him, slowly undoing his pants and intentionally touching and rubbing his cock as much as possible in the process.
Theo made a particularly desperate noise, and Lyra smirked, looking devilishly pleased with herself.
“Oh, what sweet, pathetic little noises you make, princeling,” Lyra teased, her teeth a little sharper as she grinned.
Theo whined, learning in real time that he had more of a degradation kink than he'd previously thought.
Lyra laughed, freeing Theo from his clothes and shredding his underwear in the process for her own amusement.
Her mouth watered at the sight of him, perfectly proportional to his large frame, hard and dripping for her.
“Whatever you want,” Theo wheezed, his critical thinking abandoned.
Lyra smirked. “What a dangerous, dangerous thing to say.” Without another moment’s hesitation, she bent down, flattening her tongue and licking from the base of his cock to the head.
Theo’s groan was drowned out with Lyra’s own satisified sound, relishing in the salty taste of man.
It’d been too long since she’d allowed herself to take a lover—which was a shame, because Lyra loved sex.
The way men crawled over themselves to touch her and be touched by her filled her with a thrill unrivaled by any adrenaline rush.
This time, there was something different churning in the back of her thoughts. It was nearly crowded out by her lust, but it was there, equally invested in Theo’s pleasure and debating how long she would be able to keep him.
Theo’s whole body shuddered as a groan escaped him, and he fought to stay still, dragging Lyra’s thoughts back to the present.
There was something undeniably sexy about having a large fae male—a prince, no less—stretched out and tense underneath her, his body almost entirely under her control.
Lyra could feel her arousal pulsing through her body, the heat between her legs increasing in its intensity.
Lyra leaned down and took the head of Theo’s cock in her mouth, teasing him, tracing her tongue around the most sensitive parts of him.
“Jesus C-christ,” Theo stuttered out, his hips twitching underneath Lyra.
She kept him on the edge, refusing to take more of him into her mouth, alternating between sucking and teasing his slit with her tongue.
The rest of the world faded away as Lyra lost herself to the sensations of it, her taloned fingers tracing up and down Theo’s thigh.
She alternated how much pressure to use, bringing Theo to the precipice of pain and pleasure and pulling back.
She was never going to get enough of him—she’d already decided—the addictive taste of him and how his body trembled underneath every part of her. This was more powerful than anything a siren’s song could conjure. This was real.
“Lyra, p-please,” Theo whined. His voice was wrecked, and he sounded completely feral. Only then did she take pity on him. Without hesitation, Lyra took him down her throat, hollowing out her cheeks in one smooth motion as she swallowed him.
“Fuck!” Theo’s hands flew to the back of Lyra’s head, where his fingers tangled in her hair. He’d tried to keep them at his sides, out of an abundance of caution, but the warm, wet sensation of Lyra’s mouth demolished the rest of his restraint.
Lyra preened in response, his large hands tangling in her hair and cradling her skull.
It filled her head with even more devious thoughts, of Theo manipulating her and fucking her throat with abandon.
She knew he was too far gone now, already on the edge, to regain control, but she filed it away for later, enjoying the rush it brought between her legs.
Lyra fell into a fast rhythm, bobbing her head as she sucked Theo down like her last meal.
Her hands crawled up from his thighs to his abdomen, leaving criss crossing red marks where her nails scratched the skin, until she settled on gripping his thighs.
Theo’s hips were moving erratically beneath her as his muscles tensed.
She could tell he was close. She didn’t want this to end.
Lyra relished the way her mind went silent, the pleasant weight of him on her tongue.
Her senses were overwhelmed with nothing but Theo.
Theo had never known bliss like this before; he was nearly certain. He surrendered himself to Lyra, trying and failing to keep his hips from thrusting up into her mouth. Every time Lyra’s cheeks hollowed out, he nearly finished.
He’d never seen anything in his life as devastatingly sexy as Lyra; her plump lips sealed around his cock, her eyes looking up to him and refusing to turn away.
“Lyra,” Theo choked out, his voice sounding desperate and wrecked. “I-I’m close.”
He tugged on her hair, trying to give her an ample warning if she wanted to pull off him.
Lyra only dug her nails into Theo, taking him down even deeper, until he was completely buried inside her throat.
He couldn’t even make a noise, the very oxygen pulled out of his lungs as he was completely enveloped in her.
Lyra made a satisfied moaning noise, and the vibrations sent Theo flying over the edge.
The orgasm that had been building at the base of his spine detonated, exploding outward with a force that nearly choked him and stole his vision.
Theo saw stars, his body overwhelmed with pleasure, everything in him obliterated and now rebuilding itself around one woman: Lyra.
If this was how a siren brought her prey to their deaths, Theo wanted his family to know he died a happy man.
Lyra swallowed Theo’s release, refusing to let a single drop go to waste.
Only when his body relaxed underneath hers, deflating like a balloon, did she slowly pull off him.
She sucked a little bit more for good measure, taking devious pleasure in the pained whine she elicited from Theo.
Lyra finally released him and sucked in a full breath of air, her heartbeat racing as she studied Theo’s spent body in the sand.
“Come here,” Theo mumbled after a few seconds. His eyes were closed but he held his arm out, indicating for her to curl up next to him. “You’re next.”
Lyra laughed at that but accepted his invitation, sliding her body next to his until her head was on his chest. Theo was glistening with sweat, his heartbeat still pounding.
There was zero chance he wasn’t going to fall asleep in the next five minutes, but Lyra didn’t mind.
Theo seemed to sense this and forced his eyes open.
“No, I swear, just give me a second—”
Lyra sat up with a jolt. Her whole body tensing as she turned towards the water.
“Theo, shut up.”