Between the Waters (Symphony of Light) (23 page)

He picked up his pace, sliding in and out. The sound of his hips slapping against my ass filled the room. “Just in case you have other ideas, let me change your mind.” With that he sank his teeth into my neck, drinking me, bringing me to the height of ecstasy. At the same time, stream after stream of his seed spilled.

It was going to be a long night. Cyril was created by a goddess to give her the greatest sexual pleasure. His semen was more than an aphrodisiac; from that moment on I would be his wanton, untamable slut. But that was exactly what I needed too. No thoughts, just mindless pleasure. His bite and orgasm ensured just that.

He pulled out and unzipped my dress, allowing it to fall to the floor, then turned me to face him. He stroked my matted hair. “You are so beautiful.”

I laughed. “I’m covered in muck.”

“You’re a warrior. My warrior. No one has ever battled for me, but you did.”

He lifted and carried me to the large cauldron-like tub, gently placing me in the water without a splash. “I ran us a bath.”

The effect of Cyril’s gift set in, amplifying the warmth and the ache between my legs. He lit candles with magic and placed them around the space.

“I didn’t know you could do that. Who needs a lighter?”

He laughed. “I generally refrain, because I can’t afford for magic to become a habit. Too many perceptive humans. But tonight I’m feeling exceptionally powerful. Do you know why?”

“I can guess.” I leaned on the edge of the tub, arms folded.

He approached and leaned down. “You.” He closed his mouth on mine, hard. It was passion, homage, and lust wrapped in a kiss. “You exceeded my wildest expectations. You had so much power in you. Drinking from you at the battle was the most euphoric thing I have ever experienced.”

He stood and placed his cock, thick and long at eye level. I resisted the urge to stroke my hands down his length until I knew his game. He stared at me, and I returned his gaze.

I shifted and lifted to my knees. Gazes still locked, I licked my lips.

A rumble in his chest, like a lion’s purr, was more than a subtle hint. “Do it. Suck, Linden. Take what has never been given to another.”

I found it hard to believe that the sex god himself hadn’t received his fair share of fellatio, but now was not the time to argue. The perfect head glistened with pre-cum, and the smell of our lovemaking still lingered. I wrapped my hand around his shaft, too large to close my fingers around it, and licked the tiny droplet before it dripped. Sweet, just like his blood. Not salty or bitter, but the taste of pure unrefined sugar. The goddess who created him deserved some kudos for this. Another lick and I sucked the head into my mouth.

He tossed his head back. I wet my hands in the tub and glided them up and down his cock. I was rewarded with another drop. More. I had to have more. It was like a drug.

I looked at him, licked, sucked, stroked, and worked him with desperation.

“Oh, Linden, you have no idea. So…good.”

Another pump led to my frenzied pace; with each taste of him the ache between my legs grew unbearable.

“In a moment, I’m going to come. Do you want that?”

I did. More than anything. But my mouth was too busy working him, begging for my next hit. I managed a quick yes before engulfing him again.

“I want to see you lick it from your lips. Don’t spill a drop.”

I reached up and palmed his balls. He exploded in my mouth as he bellowed, “Fuck!”

The force was more than I anticipated, dislodging him and splattering seed on my chest and breasts.

I lapped every drop from his shaft, and he shuddered with each draw of my tongue.

I bent my head to lick the thick liquid from my nipple and the swell of my breast.

“You’re going to kill me again, if you keep doing that.”

My fingers drifted through beads of white peppering my clavicle, and I raised my fingers to my mouth one by one, sucking the last remnants before sweeping my tongue across my lips to make sure I followed his command.

“I’m sorry.”

He stepped into the tub, his long muscular legs disappearing into the water. “For what?”

“I made a mess.”

“Then you must be punished.”

I let out a fierce giggle as he grabbed me and had me straddling his waist in a flash. He grabbed his cock with one hand and guided it into me while the other rested on my shoulder, forcing me down his length.

“Remind me to be bad more often.”

“But you don’t know what your punishment is.”

“You’re right, but it’s off to a pretty good start.” I rose up on my knees, sliding up his length, ready to start my rhythm.

He forced me back down with both of his hands and said with complete dominance, “You’re not permitted to move until I tell you.” He leaned his forehead to rest against mine, which caused me to arch my back, forcing his cock deeper and my breasts forward.

“What?”

“You heard me. I’m going to suck on those beautiful breasts of yours while my cock is buried inside you.” He ran his tongue along my lower lip. “And you’re not allowed to move.” He grabbed my wrists in one of his hands and pinned them to the small of my back. This gave him a perfect angle to tease that sensitive spot inside every time he pulsed or swelled.

He dipped his head and flicked his tongue back and forth across my aching bud. I wanted to fuck him so bad, but every time I moved he held me in place. He grasped my breast and squeezed before sucking the rosy peak into his mouth. His tongue teased, and I ached.

“Please…”

“Please what?”

“Let me move?”

His teeth grazed my flesh, setting me on fire.

“Let me come,” I whined.

A hard suck. “How do you want to come, Light?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

His fangs drew just the slightest bit of blood and lapped, hitting my nipple with each stroke. “Acceptable, but I call the shots. I was the one who was wronged.”

He let go of my wrist and laced his fingers through my hair, yanking my head backward. “Do you agree to my demands?”

With my arms limp at my side, I wiggled my hips, blind with desire.

He pulled my hair. “Did I say you could move?”

“No, Cyril.”

“I love the sound of my name falling from your dirty little lips.” He kissed me, lingering longer than I expected. He breathed against my mouth. “I’m feeling possessive tonight. I want what you’ve given no one else. Will you give me what I desire?”

I would have given him anything. The ache was painful, and my head clouded beyond reason with lust.

“Yes. Whatever you want.”

He ran his free hand down my back, tracing my spine until it disappeared between the cheeks of my ass. His finger stopped at the small hole and traced the pucker. “I want to fuck you here.” He wrenched my head to the side, exposing my throat. “Do you know why?”

My voice was breathy. “No.”

“Because you’ve dreamed of it. You want me to possess you. You want me to know that no matter how much you give of yourself to Stanton…there will always be a piece of you untouched by any but me.”

He was right. It was my fantasy, but not one I ever considered actually indulging. Not so much for the sexual gratification, because I debated whether or not that act with something so large could be truly pleasurable. I fantasized about the trust and intimacy such an act required.

His finger pressed past the strong muscle, and he placed his mouth next to my ear.

I was drunk with desire.

“I know your secret,” he whispered.

My legs shifted, and I slid along his length as he pumped his finger in and out of my tight hole.

“Oh, Cyril.” I toss my head back as he inserted another.

“I saw it in your mind. You gave me what’s mine. You let me take you where no man had before. But he was here…” He rubbed his finger on the inside wall, caressing his own hardness through the thin barrier. “We took you together.” He pumped harder with his fingers. “But not tonight. Tonight you are only mine. You will give me all of you.”

I guess I wasn’t the only one who could see dreams. The thought of the two men I loved fucking me at the same time drove me wild. But it was Cyril who owned me. My first love. My protector. My teacher. I could love them both, but only Cyril possessed me.

He pushed me back, still impaled on his cock, and dunked my head in the water. He picked up the shampoo and lathered the minty-scented bubbles in my hair. It was so intimate and such a contrast to the man who had just promised to ass-fuck me.

Sudsy caresses from large hands, over my shoulders, back and breasts. I squirmed, still on fire from his heat buried deep inside. Leaning me back once more, he combed fingers through my hair, rinsing. He leaned forward, placed his hand under my bottom, and stood.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

He narrowed his eyes. “I told you not to move.” He stepped out of the tub carrying me impaled on his cock. The light dusting of hair on his chest teased my nipples with each movement.

We made our way to the bedroom, and he tossed me on to the bed, grabbed my legs, and pulled me to the edge. He bent my knees, resting my feet flat on the plush white comforter. His hands slowly parted my thighs, opening me to him.

He remained silent as his gaze traveled the length of my body, stopping to linger on my womanly treasures. His examination took far too long, and self-consciousness began to set in.

“What’s wrong?” I crossed my arms over my breasts, and just before I could close my legs, he planted his hands on my knees and forced them open.

“Don’t. There is absolutely nothing wrong. In fact, everything is right. I can’t help it that I want to savor you. I’ve had so many lovers but never knew any of them as I do you. Quick interludes, favors, the few times I tried to keep the same lover, something terrible always happened. I want to know your body. Every dimple, every freckle, every fold.” He ran a finger along the slit between my legs.

I shivered.

“Do you have any idea what it means to me that you want to be my lover? That from this point on,” he cupped me between the legs, “this is mine. No more pretending. No more meaningless fucking.”

He moved forward, water still dripping from his hair, and he placed his cock between my folds. He watched my face as he slid into me, stretching, drawing a gasp from my throat.

“That. That look. I will never get tired of it.” He glided in and out with easy strokes before leaning forward, grasping my hands and pinning them above my head.

The words “I love you” left his lips just before his onslaught began.

He fucked me hard, fast, as the room filled with the sound of slapping wet flesh every time he collided his pelvis with mine. So good. So needed.

Harder and harder, thrust after thrust, he made me grunt and moan.

“Come for me, Linden. Come hard.”

I didn’t need much encouragement. He dipped his head and sucked my nipple to his mouth and bit.

Crashing wave of pleasures. “Oh, Cyril. Fuck.”

He released his bite and pumped harder. “That’s it. Come for me.”

I shook and clenched my fists, my legs rigid.

He thrust a dozen or so times more, let go of my hands, and stood. In one fast movement he withdrew his cock and sprayed long jets of pearly white liquid between my legs and across my ass as he cried out my name, “Light.”

He groaned with every stroke, milking his cock. Once done, he stared at his handiwork and then raised his gaze to my face.

I smiled at him.

He drew in heavy breaths, chest heaving from his post-orgasmic bliss.

But thankfully, he needed next to no time to recover. Which was welcome since every orgasm made me an even hornier mess.

“Are you ready?” His smile embodied mischief.

“Are you going to fuck me again?”

“Oh, yes.” He gathered some of the semen and spread it across my ass, dipping his fingers between my cheeks, slathering my hole. “Better than any lubricant.”

My face surely displayed my nervousness. He was a very large man, and nothing had ever entered me there. I thought I was long through with losing my virginity.

“Light…” He slid his cock back and forth through my folds, making it slick.

“Yes?”

“I love you. You have nothing to fear. Please trust me.” He pressed the head between my cheeks.

“I do.”

“Good. Now take a deep breath and relax.”

Air filled my lungs, and he pressed forward, stretching. I expected burning, but only a tingling sensation spread, as the head of his cock popped through the tight ring of muscle.

He groaned and tossed his head back, pausing, waiting for me to adjust to his size.

He watched my expression as he slowly buried himself to the hilt.

He smiled, a sly grin pulling at his lip as he started to move.

“What?”

“You expected it to hurt?”

“Yes.”

“It’s the same reason I can fuck you hard for hours on end and never have you complain of being rubbed raw. I was made for sex—analgesic and aphrodisiac.”

He took two fingers and drove them into my pussy. “Is this how it felt when we took you in your dreams?”

The pleasure of being full was so intense. His fingers fucked me hard while his cock’s movements nearly made me beg for more.

“Tell me.”

“Yes.”

He rocked back and forth with a slow, building rhythm. “I’ll tell you a secret. I’ve fantasized about it too.” He moaned. “You are so tight. So hot. Never felt so good.”

“You fantasize about having a ménage à trois?” I knew he had participated in the past, but I didn’t think Cyril would be willing to share his toys.

“Yes. But you need to make me a promise.”

My breasts bounced with his synchronized thrusts. I would have given him anything. “What?”

“This is mine.” He rammed his cock hard into my ass. “No one—and I do mean no one—can ever have you this way. Only I get to fuck you here.” A hard thrust of his cock and he buried a third finger in my soaking wet hole. “No one fucks your ass but me. Say it.”

I couldn’t speak.

His thrusts grew faster. Harder. Deeper.

“Fucking say it.” He grunted it with each thrust. “Only mine.” He hammered into me and curved his fingers hitting just the right spot. Harder and deeper he drove as he made his demand.