Chapter 43
Sorrow
Every emotion he’s ever felt. By Fates, she hadn’t known that. How was she supposed to?
But yes, Sorrow understands. The same tempest has been brewing inside her for just as long.
With her heart stuffed in her mouth, Sorrow fists his collar and gives a gingerly shake. “Dammit, Envy. I don’t know whether to slap you for holding back all these years or kick myself for doing the same thing.”
“Never harm this body.” He drags his fingers across her hip, the corner of his lips ticking up. “Though, feel free to smack me around whenever you’d like. Only make sure I’m tied down.”
Laughter slips from her tongue. “Insufferable god.”
“Not done yet.” He drops his forehead against hers, the digits of his left hand climbing into her scalp.
“I’ve been in love with you since The Dark Fates, when we first parted ways and traveled into the mortal world.
I asked if you’d miss me, and you told me to get lost. I loved you then.
I love you now. I love your scowls, your sarcasm, and the sensitive nature you keep hidden from everyone.
I love your desire to heal others and your courage in the face of pain. ”
His free fingers undo the buttons of her vest. “I love your witchy wardrobe and the stars dusting your face.”
The garment slides from her shoulders, his touch coasting down her breasts, the nipples puckering under his palms. “I love your taste for comfort food.”
Envy licks the seam of her mouth, prompting a mewl from her throat. “I love that you hide as much as you reveal.” He leans over Sorrow, all that magnificent weight burrowing her into the bed. His fingers slip beneath the skirt, skim up her thigh, and nudge them to spread.
“I love that you don’t care what others think about you, but you care how they feel,” Envy pants, his pupils exploding as he reaches the intimate patch of hair shrouding her cunt.
When his thumb presses into the sensitive crest of her clit, Sorrow arches into him, her eyes fluttering to stay open. A delicious haze fogs her mind. Wetness seeps out of her pussy and coats his hand, both of them groaning.
He toys with the pleats, coaxing them open. Flexing his fingers, he pries her apart and pistons two digits into Sorrow, the rhythmic pump splaying her wider.
“I loved you even when I couldn’t stand you,” he rasps, gazing down. “I loved you when I couldn’t fucking stay away from you. I loved you when I was jealous of you. I loved you when you humiliated me in front of a crowd, all those years ago on a target range.”
His mane hangs around his face, and his lips quirk as they blaze a trail across her body. “I loved you when you compromised my innocence.”
On a teary chuckle, Sorrow pitches her knees high. She writhes across the bed, her pussy lurching upward to meet the depths of his fingers, the languid motions drenching her, so that she leaks down to his knuckles.
Ravenous, Envy watches her. “I’m still in love with you.” He withdraws from Sorrow’s crease and rolls on top of her. As her thighs clamp around his hips, his gaze pins her to the bed. “I plan to fall in love with you every day, for the rest of my infernal life.”
“Then let me love you back,” Sorrow whispers, undoing the buttons of his shirt, exposing a smooth torso and a rapid pulse at his throat.
Envy’s heart rams against her own. He shakes his head in feverish misery and growls, “I’d be fucking honored.”
His mouth collides with hers, their lips rushing against one another. At the contact, an outbreak of tremors builds, throbbing deep within her. It’s a lit fuse, an aching pulse of adrenaline.
As their mouths fold and rock, Sorrow’s tongue dashes against his, each stroke percolating her veins. The craving escalates until they’re peeling her vest and skirt, then chucking his shirt aside and kicking his trousers to the ground.
In between these ministrations, they surge into another raving kiss. Envy’s tongue rides her own, drawing a series of hoarse whimpers from Sorrow. Their arms and limbs hook together, his pecs sweeping over her taut breasts, the nipples budding for his mouth.
Sorrow cries out when he purses his lips and sucks with force, stars bursting behind her eyes. As she mumbles incomprehensible words, he answers with additional flicks of his tongue, teasing the stud, tormenting her to the brink before taking the other breast.
“I’ve wanted you my whole life,” he hums against the peak. “I still want more of you, but not for what I can take. I want you moaning selfishly, indulgently. I want the painful, pleasurable sound of you coming for no one but yourself.”
Ah, ah, ah. As much as Sorrow likes what she hears, the words trigger a different priority.
In one illicit move, she rolls out of his arms, snatches her ice arrow off the floor, then pivots back the way she came.
With a grunt, Sorrow swings a leg across his lap, springs upright, and slams her arrow shaft into his wrists.
Envy’s arms whip backward, the line of her weapon pinning him to the wall overhead.
A half-groan, half-purr lurches from Envy’s tongue. His pupils alight with mischief as Sorrow sits astride his waist, her split thighs framing the carved V of his hips. Her body hunches over him, and the high stem of his cock juts high, the ruddy flesh solid and thick.
Leaning over, Sorrow rakes her lips over his. “Together.”
Then his eyes soften, hooding with warmth “Together.”
And that same balmy temperature floods Sorrow to the core. That he’d find pleasure strictly through her own climax is paramount enough. This god, who has never fucked anyone without aiming to benefit himself.
Until Sorrow.
Her spirit bursts into flames, bright and powerful. She can come for herself any time, hardly needing this deity for that. But they’ve achieved something greater, stronger, deeper. This is bonding, mating, sharing.
Her desire is his desire. Her fear is his fear. Her torment is his torment. Her victories are his victories.
There is nothing in between. Not anymore.
Sorrow brushes her mouth along his once more, the contact wringing a devoted sound from Envy. When she peeks, his eyes have clenched shut, brows crinkling in a gentle anguish. His muscles loosen, yielding under her, taking and giving.
The disarming sight pulls fresh tears to the surface, only these ones are new. They’re from happiness.
“Goddess,” he whispers hoarsely.
Sighing, she pecks his lips, tasting the endearment. “I prefer nymph.”
Despite their overcome state, a masculine chuckle rumbles from his throat. But then it shudders into a low hiss as Sorrow skates her free fingertips over the flushed head of his crown. Grinding his molars, the god arches into her touch, his eyes flipping over to watch her through blackened pupils.
While nailing his wrists to the wall, she feathers her opposite digits up and down his length, shaping its width, outlining the weight of his sac, then climbing higher. With dedicated ministrations, Sorrow drifts across the swelling tip, coaxing his dick to rise, its girth twitching.
“A pretty cock for a pretty god,” she compliments, idling tracing his slit.
Envy’s mouth falls open, a strangled noise leaping from him. Still, his irises never waver. They cling to Sorrow like moonlight clings to the surface of the sea.
In that critical look, she’s never felt more immortal. No, she doesn’t require anyone’s approval to validate her, nor does she give a solid fuck about impressing others. But with him, she doesn’t have to.
Simply, she enjoys feeling sexy with this male. That’s pleasure.
The proof of her touch beads at the prow of Envy’s cock, an opaque drop of cum quivering into view. Sorrow makes an encouraging sound, then runs the pad of her thumb along the slim crease, smearing the fluid over the cap of skin.
A guttural noise cleaves from his lungs. His waist jerks on reflex, bobbing Sorrow in place, the edge of her clit skimming his sac.
The light friction throws sparks through her veins. They gasp, their reactions bouncing off the walls and echoing down the cave’s hallways. The glittering effect takes a century to recover from, Sorrow and Envy gawking at one another, before she keeps going, keeps stroking him.
Like a naughty thing, her index fingers slide up the ramps of his hip bones, then return to his cock. Veins weave up his skin, blood pumping through them, the surge radiating against her fingers as she twines her fingers around Envy.
“Fuck,” he grits out, his waist bucking into her hand. “Oh, fuck. Sorrow.”
Her name coarse on his tongue wets Sorrow’s pussy, the nexus puddling on his abdomen. From the shadows, those molten irises flash like amulets, two degrees from hitting its melting point.
He’s heavy, his erection packed with heat and muscle. The enigmatic ability to sense this hasn’t waned. In fact, it’s grown stronger, like every mated couple in their crew.
Maybe it’s because they were meant for this. Maybe it’s their choice, which has severed a barrier, just as they breached celestial law by clutching each other beneath a sky of crashing stars, their hearts uniting regardless of her missing arrow and Envy’s thievery.
Maybe it’s both. Maybe it surpasses that.
Either way, Sorrow wants more of this heat, more of this pleasure. Circling her fingers around his bare cock, she bows forward and moans against his crown. Then she parts her lips and seals them over the tip.
Not in supplication. But in consummation.
Envy snaps off the bed, his groan dragging through the room. Humming into the rigid flesh, she cinches around him, then lowers her face. On a slow descent, she draws on his sinful cock, engulfing him to the seat.
Stars. The essence of wine seeps into her palate, a flavor she’s been missing out on, seeing as she’s never sampled him like this.
As if swallowing gravel, Envy grates out a string of moans, in tandem to Sorrow’s pursed lips. Savoring this reaction, she unspools her tongue and laves his erection, lapping up every inch, lavishing him with attention.