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Of course, I know it’s him coming at night. He knows that I know, too.
I move to the next table as more castle servants, living gargoyles, bring the food. Purgatorial food that the wraiths can eat, even if they do not need food.
“Spiritwood scones and clotted cream with berries, check,” I say as Eros touches my elbow. His heat blankets my back, but I rush to the next table, hearing his labored breath behind me, indignant. I can sense his annoyance. “Moonlit petal sandwiches, check…”
I touch the black silk tablecloths, the antique silverware, and teapots with twisted handles like branches. The teapots shimmer like moonlight. Ghost orchids for the centerpiece vases. I selected them from the castle gardens but asked permission before plucking them and promised to replant them.
The mist follows me like ghostly panting breath. My chest heaves because I want this night to be perfect….for everyone. An ache deepens inside me because I am falling into old habits. I almost hear the old voice of my dominatrix, of Mistress Skarlet, chastising me for trying to be good enough. My chest squeezes around the heavy ache.
As Eros approaches again, I busy myself with the menu, not wanting to think of him. My breasts are already too heavy, the nipples chafing against the fabric. They and my ass are sore from the riding crop he used on me earlier.
As he gets close, I take off. Too rushed, my breasts nearly burst from the corset bodice despite its floral trim.
“Ghostly jasmine tea, check.”
“Aradia…” he growls low, and I clench my eyes as my center fills up with liquid heat. A fantasy of him fucking me against a tree glimmers before I cast it away like a paper heart blowing in the wind.
“Aren’t they pretty?” I gesture to the luminescent orbs suspended from the tree branches. They cast glowing halos all around us.
“Nothing compared to the vision before me,” he notes in a deep voice with his dark eyes trained on me.
In the shadow of his beastly form, I feel like a pink flimsy flower. Those monstrous chiseled muscles, the powerful wings, and his…superior equipage I’ve come to love and worship.
At least Crescendo is not here today, otherwise, he’d probably be playing something fitting. LikeListen to Your Heartor something cheesy.
He closes in, and a flush spreads to my breasts from the carnal hunger. I bite my lower lip to contain the rising whimper. His eyes roam across every part of me, touching me without lifting a finger. My hair, my cheeks, breasts, hips, and the generous skirts—all the way down to my naked feet. I like them bare. And him carrying me over any rough terrain.
I’m being a brat, but I go for broke. I zero in right for the rock-hard dick between his legs. When it throbs, I can’t help my wicked smirk before I lift my eyes to his…and discover the lustful storm brewing there.
“Oh, sh—”
Before I can blink, he grips my waist. Utensils and dishes clatter as he sweeps them aside to get me on the table and lay me down.
“Eros!” I shriek. “The wraiths are watching.” I dart my eyes to the dark apparitions with their jaws open, already feeding upon the energies of both god and mortal.
“Let them.”
I open my mouth to protest until that crafty Cupid shoves multiple chocolate truffles inside. “Mnhmm,” I moan worse. Because he’s flipped my skirts up. Bunching them at my waist, he spreads me wide, purring his desire. Earlier today, he was merciful in not making me hold metal balls in my pussy for hours. He’s also been training me, using different-shaped phallus toys and fucking me with them at every opportunity.
My legs twitch as he traces my slick folds. I clench hard, squeezing my well-trained muscles when he inserts one finger inside me—sliding deep past the knuckle. I can’t see what he’s doing. But my whole body feels like summer with my core smoldering.
“You’re drenched, little Aria. Fucking soaked,” he says before burying another finger inside. I jerk as those thick stony fingers stretch my walls.
More sweet chocolate melts in my mouth, and I work harder to swallow. He starts pumping his fingers in and out, and I squeeze my eyes, clawing at the tablecloth.
Suddenly, Eros’s other hand cups my breast through the bodice. All it takes is one tug for him to spill my breasts and expose my puckered nipples standing tall, tipped to heaven. He lashes my clit, sucks it between his lips, then flicks a tiny area. I roll my hips, but when he bites my hypersensitive clit, I stop with a savage screech.
He shoves more truffles into my mouth, but I drop one. Glaring, Eros retrieves his fingers, rises, and slaps my wet cunt. Hard enough for me to throw my head back and moan through the chocolate.
“You will swallow whatever I put in your mouth, Butterfly. Is that clear?” he snarls and grips my right breast hard. Does he really expect me to answer? “Is that clear?” He gives my nipple a savage twist.
I nod frantically, looking down and miraculously finding the burning bud still there. He lowers his mouth to suckle the nipple, soothing the wound.
“If you get treats, little Aria, it’s only fitting that I do as well,” he says, his voice so thick and gravelly, I spasm.
He kneads my other breast, testing the flesh before slapping it. I do my ultimate best not to thrust, roll my hips, or so much as twitch without permission. His eyes burn black against mine, sending icy fear into my veins along with a pulsing thrill of lightning adrenaline.
My pussy throbs, clenching over emptiness. But Eros smacks the wet flesh again, hitting my clit with targeted precision like it’s the fleshy bullseye to his arrow. Conflicting flavors of sweet and tart soak my tongue, and the aphrodisiac taste only heightens my libido.
