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“Already soaked for me?” Ary whispers in my ear, a solitary finger probing my entrance.
I slam my eyes shut and circle my hips, a cry catching in my throat. “Ary, I’m?I’m?”
And before it strikes, and I clench all my muscles in anticipation, the fuse is snuffed. As simple as a swift breath smothering a candle flame. He still caresses my sleek lips, fingers treading into the deep crease to circle the slit of an entrance, but somehow, the pleasure has spiraled from its peak.
“What?” My voice cracks when I protest and glance down to discover Ary’s shades plunging deep into my center, forbidding my climax. “No...” I breathe in an exhale and tip my head back against the tree.
Ary brushes his lips across mine and hints, “Patience, little wonder. Death knows the best moment for everything.”
I lovethe control she gives me.
Goddesses take far more than they receive, always owning their divine thrones. Our joining is far more to sate boredom. No passion. No lust. No...love.
While Isla’s body belongs to her, she has chosen to gift it to me for one night. A body of heated flesh, a beating heart, and a spirit birthed of heaven and hell?beyond the womb of time itself, beyond the realm of Aether where the High God and Goddess originate.
Her gift is worth any price to me.
So, I bear with the torture and draw out her climax to worship her as I’d vowed. I lavish my attention on her breasts, nipping the aroused, little buds until they turn as red as the blood rubies of the Isles. I ravish Isla’s plump, firm beauties until I’ve scrawled my death bites onto her flesh and injected my shadow essence into the imprints. Stroking my tongue along her fruitful belly while tangling my fingers in the fine silver hairs along her mound, I build the tension before finally parting her thighs even wider. She gives a little whimper when I hook my hands on their undersides and raise her until her legs rest on either side of my shoulders. I meet her eyes with a grin, then direct my shades to anchor her to the tree. They drape across her back to prevent the bark from chafing her skin. Then, I stare directly at her willing and whetted entrance. I study the mystery of her little, gasping sex. And smile, feeling a muscle throbbing in my cheek.
“Have you never??” she wonders, and my eyes deadpan, the silver striking hers like lightning since she nearly shrinks from my predictive revelation.
In the deepest of voices, I reveal, “Never. I reaped their souls, Isla. Only Allysteir joined with them.”
More tears glisten in her eyes and she freely unleashes a sob of emotion. I hear her heart thundering out of her chest. It’s nearly enough for me to lose all control and drive myself into her now. But she deserves to be taken slow.
“So, I am the first?” she wonders in awe.
Cocking my head, I gaze at her vulva, fascinated. Goddesses have never allowed me to study, though they spend eternity doing so with one another. Now, I understand why. The feminine vessel is so intricate and complex, perfectly designed. A physical embodiment of the divine. Created for their pleasure and not for mine. I am simply honored to be a vessel to gift her pleasure as all men should be, especially when such a fleshy, warm inner chamber will suck my organ to the tautest delirium.
I love her glistening silver nether hair bowing to her dark, rosy lips. When I nudge her clitoris with one finger, and she bucks, I smirk to the side. “The firsthuman, sweet wonder. Goddess forms are different. It’s far more about energy. Not this sense of touch.”
She holds her breath, presses her lips, then asks, “As good?”
Enjoying her sweet blushing cheeks, I smile and shake my head, roam my hand up to fondle her plump thigh before exploring her sex further. “No. You arebetterand beyond any dream,Spirit Rose.”
At first, her center reminds me of Isle-fruit cut open with its core exposed, aroma fragrant from the oil due to my Death maidyans. It’s smokier, richer. But when I part her inner and outer folds and probe her opening with my tongue to lap at her juices, I taste musk with a hint of sweetness. I stroke my tongue along those fleshy lips to taste the spice of the Isle-fruits she’s consumed along with the starlight oil. Isla’s whole body shudders. She twists her hips, desperate for more.
Not the best moment yet.
I plunge one finger inside her, feel her vaginal muscles thrust and clench around me. Rising, I kiss her mouth, opening her lips to flick her tongue, so she may taste her sweet and spicy musk. Devouring her gasps and sighs of emotion, I bury another finger inside her and another. When she moans, I reap the pleasurable tone and memorize its sound, knowing I may relive it at any time as I have captured this night to relive for eternity.
Death never forgets.
Her hips ride up and down, and as I part from her lips, my little wonder whispers a mournful plea, “Ary...”
I kiss her brow and nod. “This is the moment.”
She cries when I lower my head and bury my face inside her gasping sex. She writhes when I lift the clitoral hood, lick at her pearl of the divine, and stab it with my tongue, circling it until every last muscle constricts to her erupting climax. My shades surge to mirror her pleasure until her euphoria reaches its ultimate peak. With sweat pooling down the sides of her face to gift her an otherworldly glow, Isla throws her head back and screams. My eyes never leave hers even as I lick her to the fullness of her ecstasy, assured she is the most beautiful and transcendent creature to ever grace the realms of Death.
She comes with tremors rippling through her exquisite flesh. Her sex bursts with a sticky, feminine liquid I’ve never once experienced from a goddess. They baptize my mouth and cheeks as shades radiate through my god form in pride. Careless of the fluids, I don’t stop my tongue’s pursuit. Despite how Isla squirms and thrashes her hips through her tormented cries, she comes again and again, dripping all over me and down her thighs.
Breath cleaving and heaving with limbs quivering in the aftermath, Isla drops her head onto my shoulder. I release her wrists from the shade bonds. Her legs, limp from pleasure, slide down the sides of my robe, but I hook them over my hips to rest, fingers lingering on her sweet and buxom backside.
I tilt my head toward her and ask, “How was that for the best moment?”
Winded and breathless, Isla responds, voice muffled into my robe, “Wondrous, Ary. It was wondrous.”
“The next moment is coming.”
