Chapter 13 #2
Clara was already trembling on knees that felt as solid as last week's crackers, her face hot and feverish all over again, but at his final words, her whole body froze. What was worse? Being made to come as a host of nightmares watched… or not being allowed to?
"Wait?!" She hissed. "What for what, a bigger audience? Are you selling t-tickets?"
Shiver had to laugh, but he kept it low and soft in her ear. He couldn't let the whole room know, and they still had a long way to go until sunrise.
"Mmm, should I?" He rumbled, slowing his circles and letting his index finger do all the work of slipping around her precious pearl while a single tendril gently pumped in and out between her legs.
"I hope we l-live through this… because I'm going to…
kill you." Clara was panting with her hot face crammed into his chest, white fingers gripping his shoulders.
She struggled to stand, she struggled to keep quiet, she struggled not to think of all the eyes on them both, and even though she had no good reason to obey his command to wait, she struggled to do that too.
"Didn't I already tell you? You killed me the moment I saw you," he said.
In spite of the pounding pressure of several other much more alarming emotions, everything stopped for a moment when she heard that.
Everything had happened so quickly that Clara had not taken a moment to realize what it all meant.
He had told her he loved her. She had—in her own good time—told him the same.
Laying aside the strange book and the doubtlessly sinful ritual, forgetting for the moment the horns, glowing eyes, and the sigils on her floor, and ignoring the horde of hellbeasts staring at her fighting off an orgasm, the plain and simple truth was…
she had found someone. They were in love. It wouldn't just wear off in a day.
She dug her fingers into his broad shoulder, her other hand playing with the twine still attached to her wrist and his.
Her eyes filled with tears, and she hitched little gasping breaths against his skin as he pumped into her, slipping the tips of his fingers against her most secret and sensitive places.
"T-tell me… tell me we'll… live through this," she whispered.
And here, Clara found her throat catching around a fear bigger than love, bigger than the demons just within reach—she had to rely on someone else, she had to ask for help, she had to do the one thing for which she had never shown a talent, and not be alone for once.
"Tell me that… that you know what to do. "
Shiver's heart melted right down to butter at those soft, frightened words. Did it make him a terrible man to love that bit of fear, to take pleasure in seeing his strong and capable girl admit that she was fragile?
"My precious little one," he growled in her ear, slipping another tendril between her thighs and pumping harder. "I swear to protect you. Let the worst beasts of any world lay a claw upon you, and I will become a fucking hurricane."
He punctuated these last words with a deep thrust inside her and a pinch of her clit, making her jolt and gasp in his arms. She was his own, as no one had been in as many centuries as he could recall, and whatever fair fortune had dropped her at his undeserving sinner's feet, he would spend the rest of time proving that he was the right choice.
Clara couldn't help but cry now. It was too intense, his touches and his promises and the tiny bubble he wrapped them in where fear couldn't get in. No one had loved her this way. No one had cared for her this way. No one had ever told her to rest while they handled everything.
"Prepare yourself, honey," said Shiver as more tendrils slid beneath the top of her dress, curling around her little breasts and pinching their tips to points. "When it happens, don't scream."
"When - when wh— OH!"
Clara's head snapped back as her defenses crumbled, her body seized with a pleasure that gripped every inch from her toes to her thighs to her throat. She fought to obey and not scream, but tiny gasps escaped, a frightened bird calling out in the rain.
When Clara collapsed against him, and the rushing in her ears faded, she could hear the clamor around them, the hissing, the moaning, the cursing, hundreds of demons, all crying out in agitation.
"Did he really—and did she just—?"
"Impossible, the females don't do that."
"Mine always did."
"You lie!"
"Give her to us, Shiver, let us try for ourselves!"
“Yesss, to ussssss…"
Clara couldn't help a small sound as her fear, indignation, and fury all fought her afterglow for dominance. She squeezed her thighs together. Shiver had not pulled his tendrils out of her, and she could feel her heart beating around them, fast and almost painful.
"Shiver," she said in a warning tone. "Thinking of you doesn't seem to be working."
"Oh, it is, or they would have broken the barrier by now," he said, holding her tightly but keeping her full of his tendrils. The way she squeezed him was paradise. "But we'll just have to keep it up."
Clara felt as if a large hand was gripping her around the neck, not to mention between her hips. Keep it up, meaning… keep it up.
"Can you last until ssssunrise, sweet human?"
"We have all night, yesss…”
Clara looked at Shiver and swallowed thickly.
Her body was weak and trembling, and she could feel those tendrils still filling her, shifting with every move she made like a very small basket full of pythons.
As the tickle of her warm arousal trailed its way down her thigh, she felt her red face go even hotter, snapping her eyes to the floor as if someone had gotten fresh at a party.
"St-stop that, you," she squirmed, trying to bat at his hands and the extra little limbs that snaked under and around her dress.
"It's helping, in't it?" Shiver couldn't help a chuckle. Was she still trying to be modest, after all they'd been through? It was so darling that he never wanted her to stop, while all the while he wanted to tear her clothes to shreds and fuck her on the floor till she screamed. "It's helping me."
“Well, who asked you?” She huffed, continuing to try and escape his touch, though it was far past too late.
Shiver laughed. This was quickly becoming his new favorite game, and the hissing and threats from the demons just beyond their barrier seemed only to make it more thrilling.
"Seven hells, Clara, you're clenched up so tight," he growled in her ear, undulating his tendrils inside her, testing to see if she might let him keep working on her. "If I'm going to keep you entertained, I think you might need to relax a little first."
"Shiver, I can't," she said quietly into his collarbone, unable to keep up her biting tone. If he wanted her to beg, she'd beg.