AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Hmm…do you want more?”
As he rubs his cool shades into the smoldering skin, I waver. “Maybe.”
Crack!I dig my fingers into the bedsheets at the searing strike.
“Yes or no, my love.”
“Yes, but…Neo?” I gaze back at him with my cheeks burning as all of me is ready to melt. “Please…” I trail off because I want it to mean something. He said as much ‘regard and devotion’ as his harem girls.
Everything in me stills when he brushes his lips along the back of my hair, descending to my neck. “It’s under your control, Elysia. If you want me to stop, simply speak the word, “feather”. You hold more power. Power in your authority to stop me. And power in your surrender, trusting no harm will come to you by my hand, unless it is according to your pleasure. Know this is my ultimate desire—to give you pleasure.”
And none are better at giving pleasure than he.
“Yes, Neo.”
No sooner do I speak than he brings his hand down again. He applies more force until his slaps echo through the room. Each time he spanks one, he lures his shades to stroke the inflamed skin. It stirs more need, more hunger to pulse inside me until I’m nearly rocking my hips, my glutes twitching at each touch.
“Mmm…when you give me your trust, it strengthens our bond and forms a level of understanding, a deeper foundation. Is this what you desire, Princess?”
He sears my ass again. Tears stream down my cheeks to mirror the liquid gold I know is gushing from my center. I love his brand of dominance, how he possesses me with his whole body and these beautiful mind-fucks, ones laced with consent. All my muscles loosen. It’s not long before I’m rubbing my sex against the sheets, striving for fulfillment.
“Turn over,” he commands in a low, silken growl.
Again, I lean into that safe word, but I don’t voice it. Instead, I suck in a deep breath, close my eyes, and slowly ease over until I’m on my back. The blankets chafe my burning ass, but his shades swathe any pain.
With one smoldering deadpan that’s erotic enough to send me convulsing, Neo wrenches my arms above my head so my wrists crash together. Still, I do not unleash the safe word, thrilling in this new, dangerous territory. Adrenaline swells in my veins. I do not open my eyes.
All of me ruptures like a shooting star when he tickles my breasts with two wisps at the same time, circling in tight, slow lines around my areolas, spiraling closer and closer. My arousal heightens, nerve endings on fire. I imagine gold ripples riding off my skin and dancing in the air to form dozens of little carousels. Our combustive energies gather around us. Those intense gravitational pulls: this black hole life force.
I’m certain if I could use my hands, if I could touch his chest, I would feel the echo of that new heartbeat pulse that is allmine. I could time its beat to the rhythm of Scheherazade.
Affectionate and possessive, Neo uses his knee to coax my thighs to divide. Arching my back to grant him more of my breasts, I spread myself.
Tortuously slow, he spirals the soft tickling around and around my breasts, denying me the touch I most desire until I cry out, “Feather!” With a congratulatory growl, Neo pirouettes that feather in a full circle to my peaked nipples. My body rises, back arching while more gold sheds from my fire blossom, from that sunset and sunrise center.
Neo hovers above my mouth. Despite the darkness of my lids, I feel his warm breath before he opens my mouth beneath his to impart his familiar scent of vetiver seduction, of incense, of deep water. Then, he devours me, tongue tasting my honey halo and sharp spice, rewarding me for my correct guess while sweeping that feather along my sex. I buck and moan into his mouth.
“There are those sweet refrains!” he rejoices, and I gasp because that was anafter-memory! My first sign of hope! I grasp it like a tether to his soul, to his heart.
When Neo joins the second feather to the first, stirring my fire blossom, I clench my calves tight and breathe deep. I utterNoraliceas a breath prayer in my head. I preachtruthandhonorupon myself, that I am worthy of this. That I am safe here with my husband. That he is honoring my body, which is a form of truth in and of itself.Mytruth. If he’s willing to lower his drawbridge, so can I.
Tonight, we aren’t paradoxical mates. We are simply a husband and wifeexploringandlearning.
Neo kisses my mouth, tilting the angle of his neck to deepen it. One last swipe of his tongue before he travels lower, lower, lower so he may mouth my throat. Not once do his fangs unleash. Retracted the whole time with unfathomable control, he suckles the skin above my jugular and continues down while those feathers stroke my sex, stirring more liquid gold to weep from my sunset center. His tongue follows a path along my chest.
“Neo!” I sob his name in a petition, begging him to where I desire him most. He kisses each of my erect nipples and tastes them, slow and agonizing, feathers teetering on my sex to drag out the delirious foreplay. All my body has turned feverish, the hairs on the nape of my neck and arms prickle the air.
Finally, his tongue dances off the edge of an eternity of moments so he may finally kiss the topaz panes of my stomach. He flicks his tongue into my navel. I arch my back in a beseeching gesture.
My body has become a meadow of gold wheat, ready for the wind to scatter its chaff at any moment. But Neo rises. He does not bow prostrate. No, he seeks my mouth again and robs my breath.
His shades join with the feathers, injecting their dark lullaby deep inside my core, causing me to lurch, convulse, and grapple with the shades around my wrists.
Once he touches his thumb to my clitoris, dozens of my sobs and moans split into screams as I climax with shooting stars gushing into my bloodstream, into my muscles, into my flesh. They rush up my spine to splatter gold, flushed paint into my face. My eyelashes themselves have turned into halcyon feathers to tickle my upper cheeks.
With the final rolling waves of my climax ebbing, Neo releases me from his shade bindings so I may curl against his chest. He does not touch me beyond his hand draping across my back. “How was that for the first time, my love?”
I ache to tell him it wasn’t the first time. I ache to tell him about that night. I ache to tell him how he unleashed the full strength of his Dragon wings on the night we came together for the first time as husband and wife. But it’s one of many things forbidden by the Triumvirate. I may not share any of the memories.
