Chapter 43 #3
Facing each other like mates, they haul ass. She slings her hips, loving the clench of his canines, the toughening of his jaw, the heat of his dick, the wild percussion of his heart, the flare in his eyes. Craning back her head, she rides him to the ends of the earth, relishing his speechlessness.
By the Stars. She loves it all, consumes it all.
Clasping Sorrow’s ass, Envy tugs her forward and backward, changing the cadence so that she can’t do a thing but straddle him. She keens in cadence, her knees digging into the sheets, her thighs branching farther.
While dashing his hips, Envy’s mouth steals hers, prying their kiss apart, in the same way his cock pries her apart. Sorrow shrieks into his mouth, and he swallows the reverberation like a glutton, as if the sound will keep him alive.
Breaking from the kiss, he grapples the back of her head with his free palm, holding it in place, trapping her gaze to his while he slings into her with long, burrowing strokes.
They’re rushing at one another, she can’t tell where it begins or ends, their bodies chasing a new type of eternity. Envy’s hips tear between Sorrow’s, and they beg for more, and more, and more.
“Oh!” she cries, throwing her head once more to the ceiling. “Envy!”
“Yeah,” he pants. “Come for me. Come for yourself. Come on, Sorrow.”
With renewed stamina, Envy slams into her cunt, arousal dripping to his sac. The width of his cock broadens, beads of fluid rise from Envy’s crease, the cum sliding across her flesh. That she feels this throws Sorrow into a tailspin, into a dream, into a fucking fantasy made manifest.
Together, they go still. Then they explode like a pair of celestials.
Sorrow reels back to him, and he snatches her mouth, and they roar into each other. Clasping, they come with entwined shouts. The cacophony blows through the rocky halls, ripping past the cave. And it goes on, and on, and on.
At last, they collapse into stunned silence. Boneless, she traces his damp ass, and he cups the edge of her breast. For a long time, they’re quiet, astounded, exhausted.
Still touching, they tangle themselves up, their limbs braiding. Unable to quit staring, they whisper into the night, sharing memories, clarifying misunderstandings, and shedding light on past actions. They talk over one another, bicker in amusement, and laugh with remorse.
Like they did over the course of three days, the conversation flows from one subject to the next. All in all, it’s imperfectly perfect.
Envy makes a gluttonous noise and snacks on Sorrow’s jaw.
Sorrow’s fingers dip low to fondle the ledge of his cock.
This only gets them riled up again, which is fine. It’s going to be a long, smutty night. And a much longer, smuttier life.
By dawn, Sorrow is one hundred percent fucked. And happy.
The bedding is a mixture of linen and fleece, since they combined the two after fucking for three consecutive rounds, after she’d taken his cock into her mouth again and made him bellow, and after he’d licked her into a fainting spell, and after he’d used a number of toys on her, then bent Sorrow in front of him, the deep pitch of his cock making her shriek into the pillows.
Envy sleeps on his stomach. The blankets barely cover the swells of his ass, those indentations tight and smooth.
Sorrow traces his slumbering body with her fingertips, then swears affectionately under her breath.
It should be against celestial law for one being to look like him.
Yet she knows his flaws as intimately as his attributes, and she adores them in equal measure.
Slipping into her robe, Sorrow pads outside to the lagoon. The water sparkles, his tethered boat bobs over the surface, and the ferns sway.
On the opposite side of this refuge, a waterfall enclave awaits them.
Envy plans on showing her more hidden crevices today, preferably ones in which she can come as loudly as she wishes while he pounds her against a watery embankment.
Because even with all this love business, some lustful things don’t change.
In fact, the sentiment only spurs them on, their desires hardly satiated if the past few hours are anything to go by.
Sorrow’s hair drapes over her chest. Warmth oozes into her cheeks.
Is she blushing? Probably.
Well, that’s okay. Besides, only one person is allowed to see her like this.
And that person is coming this way. A tall shadow falls across the ground, a pair of toned arms slant around her waist, and a dangerous mouth nibbles on her ear.
When Sorrow tilts her head to give him better access, a husky voice flirts, “Purrr. I’m getting used to this.”
She nestles into him. “Which part?”
“You. Me. Pain. Pleasure.”
“You think we can handle it?”
“So far, so good.”
“Then it helps that I love you.”
“I love me too.” When Sorrow flings back her head and laughs, he squeezes her playfully. And when she angles her face toward his, Envy grins. “But I love you more,” he vows before claiming her mouth.
Sorrow parts her lips, and her hands vanish into his hair. With every resonating sweep of their tongues, she feels the truth down to the marrow of her bones. And she returns the fervent kiss, because the feeling is mutual.
That’s their choice. That’s their fate.
Envy traps her against him and whispers in detail all the ways he’s going to fuck her while cornered like this, with the open world shimmering ahead of them. At which point, he carries her into the lagoon and demonstrates.