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But when morning comes, and she wakes to my monstrous gargoyle form, only to give me that adorable smile, she disarms me. Especially after how I fulfilled my promise to beat the ever-loving fuck out of her ass. She slept on her stomach all week. And I fed her as she knelt on a soft, cool pillow at my feet during that week.
She took it all with unfettered enthusiasm.
Her presence is…soothing to my heart. As if I can feel it beating again. Like she’s cracked the stone just to give me the slightest, most threadbare pulse.
One week turns into two, and two turns into…more. When time passes differently in Purgatory, I can afford to do this longer.
Every moment I do not fuck her is ungodly, hellish torture. Oh, she begs for cock at every turn, so she may drink more of my cum.
But at night…when I’m a god, aman, she wants nothing to do with me. She pushes me away every time I come close. While I haven’t addressed her preconceived beliefs, not wishing to pressure or frighten her, I know she understands the man and the monster are the same.
She’s simply calmer with the monster.
One time, I tried slipping into the bed with her. A mere stroke of my knuckles along her back, and she screamed so shrilland high, Crescendo burst into the room, playing György fucking Ligeti’sVoluminawith the organ’s intro at the highest volume.
Something triggers her. I doubt it’s fear at the idea of a cock inside her. Perhaps, it’s another presence in her bed. Or how I touch her, shocking her awake. The pitch blackness is another theory. It’s the simplest answer: she needs to see me.
And that can never happen.
Whatever it is, it comes from someplace buried deep inside her.
If I have any hope of fucking her and making love to her, I will need her to show me her demons. After all, I have my own, but she doesn’t need that burden.
She’s a wonder.
There is no end to the places in my realm where she has not been enamored. Everything is new to her. Everything strange and dark and sad, this girl simply loves. A girl in love with sadness. Melancholy. Woe. She is drawn to the dark, and wherever I take her, she shines with a light sent from heaven.
The butterfliesalwaysfollow her. And sheneversees them.
I knew this would happen, fuck me. I knew I would get attached to a mortal and wish to keep her. Especially when she shows no desire to leave.
The last time I felt such great fear of losing a lover was with Psyche. The fear of what will happen if she looks upon my face. Or discovers my skeleton in the closet. More like a corpse.
“Is everything ready for the tea party, Eros? Eros?” she asks, jarring me from my thoughts.
“Hmm?” I flick my eyes to her, where she’s standing on the cusp of the Wraith Woods.
Yes, my little Aria convinced me to let her host a tea party for the dark apparitions, gods be damned!
Ugh, if my businesspartnerssaw this, they would never let me live it down.
19
Eros! Eros! I scream inside my mind, knowing he won’t hear me.
ARADIA
Idon’t know why he’s looking at me like that.
And I don’t have time to ask.
I rush from table to table, double-checking everything is in order. My dress swishes wherever I go, the violet velvet and lace so heavy, it slows me down. But I love it. Eros has excellent taste, and he’s insisted on selecting all my clothes. Since he’s been so kind and generous to let me stay, and with how he hovers around me like an adorable poltergeist, I am more than willing to let him domostlywhatever he wants with me.
That includes any punishments for breaking the rules like leaving my room without him. Because malevolent ghosts could attack me, desiring my light. Aftercare always follows punishments.
Every day, he’s grown more and more demanding. And I know why.
My thighs rub together at the thought of his desire, of my own. We hunger for one another. Whenever we’re close, it’s never enough. Our energies pull to one another’s—so strong but so strained, it’s ready to snap.
