Eiran smiled at her as he angled her head and forced his cock into her throat as far as it could. Her eyes went wide as those muscles tightened around him, swallowing him inch by delicious inch. It was uncomfortable at first, but as he pulled out and then pushed back in, she realized she liked it. There was something tremendously sexy about being totally in his control. He was fucking her throat and she liked it.
When she told him as much, a scary thought went across his face. He had something planned and whatever it was, she wanted it. He pulled from her mouth and stood next to the bed. He released his hold over her body. “Lay on your back with your head hanging over the edge.” He wanted to see her doing what he said, of her own accord.
She did what he said with only the slightest hesitation. It was that hesitation that made his dick throb. Eiran stood with a leg on either side of her upside down face and then bent his knees slightly. The bed was tall, which was good because so was Eiran. His movement brought his package close to her face. Her laying this way made her mouth and throat a more straight line. He laid his cock on her cheek. He measured how far down her throat it would go from this angle and showed her with the tip just how fucked her face was about to get.
Nathalia put her long arms up and back around his ass. She rubbed up and down the backs of his legs and butt. Eiran enjoyed the caress for a moment, but when she moved her hands to the front of his thighs, he told her, “Put your hands by your sides and keep them there.” She did. “You will not interfere. Do not try to push me away or I will take control again. I can sense this is what you want and I will force it, but it will be more fun for both of us if you force yourself to accept what I give.”
Eiran took his cock at the base and stroked it while he looked down at her body. Her hips were moving almost imperceptibly on the bed. He slid his other hand down her neck, over her breast, pausing to give it a hard squeeze and pinch the nipple, then down her stomach. He splayed his hand there, his fingertips just touching her pubic hair.
“Open your mouth, Nathalia. Keep it open.” Doing what Eiran said sent a rush of liquid need straight to her core.
He put the head of his dick and the first inch into her mouth, moving it around to feel the sides of her cheeks from the inside. He dropped the hand from his cock to the back of her neck, holding her just right and pushed in her moistness to the root of himself. Her throat spasmed a little, trying to stretch to accommodate his great size and that pleased him very much.
He pulled back slowly, enjoying the feel of her trying to swallow him. When he was out he told her, “If you want more, you will have to ask for it.”
Please Eiran.
“Please what, my love. What exactly do you want me to do?” Eiran positioned himself exactly as he had before, and held himself there until she told him.
Push your cock into my throat. Use me to make yourself come. I want to taste it again.
Eiran pressed himself down her gullet, aggressively forcing himself inside her deeper and deeper. He began to thrust faster and harder and her thoughts convinced him that is what she wanted him to do.
Nathalia tried to keep still, but her hips bucked. The hand pressed into her stomach, holding her to the bed, moved further down, slipping into the warm folds of her sex. You are so wet, so ready for me to put my member here. Eiran pushed two fingers inside her to indicate where he meant. She groaned and begged inside his head. He used his thumb to rub her clit and bring her to the edge of another climax. She didn't have far to go and neither did he.
Eiran's wings were stretched wide and every muscle of his body was tense. When he felt her muscles tighten around his fingers, he let lose of his own orgasm. Pulling out of her throat and into her mouth, his cock spasmed, sending hot come against her tongue. Nathalia drank it down in great gulps.
Somewhere between the deliciously satisfying taste of him and the pleasure of her own orgasm, Nathalia lost herself. The waves of pleasure made her flash in and out of existence. Her body sunk into the bed and streamed into the sky. The high was unimaginable and she felt both weakened and strengthened by it.
Eiran knew what she was feeling because he was feeling it too. Never before had such a thing happened to their kind. He had found a woman capable of tabalu, capable of becoming one of them and not just a perverted version. If this was any indication, having sex with his wife might very well be what ended up killing him, the indestructible immortal, Eiran Kafziel, Keeper of the Betrayers.
Chapter 8
Alisha looked calm as she lay in Maeve and Aaron's bed while everyone around her was in a huff. She had insisted that her magic would be easier if she did it in a place 'saturated' by Nathalia. That's how she'd said it too. Saturated! Of course she wasn't talking about their Abbess' death, but her life. She had lived in this room, but she had died here too. It made Maeve and Libby sick to hear such course disregard for their experiences. They had seen Nathalia's death but Alisha didn't believe them. There were a few women who followed her. They were the ones preparing the room for her ethereal projection.
There were few Peregrinus that lived past the age of consent. Alisha had almost died herself when she traveled for the first time. She had left her body at the moment of her first climax. She was so fascinated with the experience that she took too long to come back. When in this separated state, it was hard to feel any emotions whatsoever. She only lived because the man she was with was a paramedic. She calmly watched as Steven performed CPR and tried to resuscitate her lifeless body.
She only rejoined herself because he was moving to call 911. She didn't want that complication. Even in her altered state she knew that the authorities would cause her problems. They would try to stop her, and she couldn't allow that. She knew that she would try this again and again. So, she climbed back inside her body and told him to calm down.
It was only then that she felt the fear. Only then did she realize the magnitude of what had happened. Her autonomic nervous system had completely shut down. No heart beat, no breathing, no oxygen enriched blood pumping through her. She shook for an hour after that and even allowed her date to take her to the ER for a check up.
Alisha looked confident, but inside she was still a little afraid. She didn't have as much control over her ethereal self as she led everyone to believe. She could give herself a task before her pilgrimage, but couldn't be sure she wouldn't take several detours before coming back.
Finding the sisterhood was truly a gift from the Great Mother. They understood her skill and had cultivated it. They created a safe environment in which she could use it in very controlled conditions. Even now they wheeled in the medical machines, some of which were invented just for her particular situation.
As soon as they were finished hooking her up to the various life support systems she started. Alisha pulled the power from the capacitors and began separation. The Primos looked on with anxiety as the external pacemaker beeped to life. The giant machine stimulated her heart, pressuring it to beat by means of a small electrical pulse through a wire in Alisha's chest. The lung machine hissed in and out. A small tube was put down her trachea. It pumped oxygen to her lungs where it was carried all over.
Now they waited. No one knew how long she would be incapacitated nor how much collected power she would use. Alisha understood that if she used too much and endangered the Capacitors, after everything had been done to boost them, she would be cut off from the supply. Either she would snap back to her body, or they would be separated and she would die.
Her ethereal self cared nothing of such matters and simply flew off in the direction that attracted her the most. Oh, joy! She'd never gone to the middle east before.
***
Nathalia looked at herself in the mirror for the first time since her death. She didn't even know how long ago it had been. She thought she looked different enough for it to have been years ago when she lived among friends, sisters, in the Austin Texas compound of the Daughters of Women.
Her body glowed slightly. Not the scary wa
y the succubus' had, but in a kissed by the sun way. She looked more animated than she could remember ever looking. She was brimming with life, with prana. She could see it shimmering below the surface of her skin, now darker than ever with all the tanning she and Eiran had been doing.
Eiran was sleeping now. She had felt him slid out of her consciousness a few moments ago. Feeling it now, she was now certain he had not truly slept in a while. Now that they both had fed and the hunger wasn't pressing, he felt safe leaving her to feel the full force of her change. It felt good, strong, interesting. She had trouble not touching everything in the room to get it's details.
She had decided it was time to take that shower now. As soon as she flipped on the light in the floor to ceiling marble marvel that was the bathroom of a Four Seasons luxury suite, she became obsessed with her reflection. She kept going back to her eyes. They were now blue, but still sparkled like a jewel cut with millions of facets. She slid her fingers into her hairline and back towards the elaborate knot Eiran had put there and, just like that, her hands slipped right through and her hair fell delicately on her shoulders.
She gripped the hair on the sides of her head just as Eiran had done when he pushed his cock into her mouth. Now that certainly was not the experience she thought it would be. She was prepared to be completely grossed out, repulsed by doing that with a man, but the reality was incredibly hot.
She leaned in and put her face very close to the mirror. Open your mouth, Nathalia. Keep it open. That was what he had said to her and thinking about it made her wet all over again. She opened her mouth now for her own viewing. With her own fingers she traced her full lips, now even fuller from all of their kissing and oral pleasure, and then probed inside. She felt with her fingers, the inside of her lips and then inside her mouth, along her cheeks and teeth and tongue, feeling what Eiran had with his dick.
How fucked up am I? She thought.
She strode over to the giant marble tub, away from the distracting mirror, and turned on the water. She watched the stream flow over and through her fingers, enjoying it hotter than she ever had before as she thought about her question.
She was pretty fucked up, she decided. She had to be to have enjoyed that episode with a man so much. It was good when Eiran was gentle and loving and she had the most amazing orgasms but it had really turned her on when he was aggressive and dominating. That's just not right. She was a feminist, violently against men as the dominant sex. Shouldn't she be against that?
She had even considered herself a lesbian. But that was before Eiran. That was when Michael had laid claim to her. Michael was always so mean and careless. He used her body for his own pleasure with no consideration for her feelings. She never got any pleasure when he acted that way. Shouldn't that mean that those behaviors would be a turn off for her?
Maybe that was it. She knew Eiran would never hurt her. He was playing a part: doing what he could see in her mind would make her sexually excited. Michael was evil and twisted. His ideas of pleasure and pain were too mixed. He wasn't acting.
Could it be some part of Ereshkigal's personality leaking over?
As soon as she thought it, she knew it wasn't Ereshkigal Instinctively she knew that Ereshkigal had been a warrior, always in control. She had never tolerated aggressive behavior in the bedroom from Eiran.
It had to be herself, Nathalia. Did she want Eiran to act this way? She thought about his body, built for aggression. His was all male, designed by nature for thrusting and penetrating, all hard muscles. She ached for him to be deep inside her when she thought of him that way. How had she disallowed men their very nature, blamed them for it? She never had before, but now could see how sexy the contrasts between men and women were. Eiran was all hard angles and she was soft curves. Not as soft as Maeve's curves.
Maeve had always played the female to Nathalia's male. Images of a nude Maeve, now probably extra curvy and womanly in her pregnancy, being speared by a cock that was too long, too big, too hard, seeped into Nathalia's thoughts. She allowed the fantasy to continue, imagining the penis was her own. She imagined holding her friend down with firm hands as she struggled to get away, her face contorted with a mixture of pain and pleasure.
The pain part was the part that stimulated Nathalia. She forced Maeve's legs back toward her ears, pulling out of her completely before piercing her ass with her imaginary cock. She caught a glimpse of red on her dick as she punished her friends anus. She imagined coming just as Maeve was begging her to stop.
Nathalia jumped into the tub, wanting to wash that disgusting scene off. She had never felt violent towards Maeve or any other woman. What was happening to her? She dunked her head under the water. Maybe she could wash her mind in this bath too.
As her hair floated all around her face, Nathalia felt someone strange in her head. It wasn't Eiran, but she couldn't be certain it wasn't her that thought, It's the violence you crave, not the love. Ereshkigal rejected it, but the darkness is in you. You desire someone much stronger than the man that calls you 'my love'.
She tried to shake it off, but the thought lingered in her mind, soaking into her brain until she worried that the voice was right. She heard it once again before she managed to block it out, You will kill him. When you decide to, come to me. I want to see it. I will show you how to use the darkness and violence to form the world into what you want. You will be Earth's angry Goddess.
***
Eiran, holding Nathalia in his arms like a baby, jumped from the roof of the Four Seasons, Cairo. He allowed them to fall for a few seconds before spreading his wings and flying. Sure it was the bright hours of the late afternoon, but no one would see them. He made sure of it. It was a simple matter to keep his presence masked from humans and he had been doing it forever.
Nathalia lay quite comfortably in his arms. She carried the prisoner now. The ashes of the Akhkharu were formed into a dark colored mud patty inside an ostrich egg sized polymer pod. The egg would be placed in one of the recesses of the wall of the prison. It would grow and stretch to accommodate the prisoner as he grew. The moisture darkening the ash was blood.
My blood. Nephilim blood is very useful in healing wounds and sharing it with a wounded comrade creates a bond. That bond insures that he can speak to me if he needs and I can speak to him, instructing him in the ways of living in the light. It means I can determine when it is time to give each prisoner another chance at choosing the right. Eiran spoke concerning her thoughts, but his own were focused on her body. He enjoyed every second of their contact. It was no effort at all to hold her this way, her back in one arm and her knees thrown over the other. She had never allowed him to carry her this way when she was alive before. She had been the warrior, the instructor. He was enjoying this softer side.
But I thought that sharing blood made us Akhkharu. Nathalia could feel how he enjoyed holding her and let him. He seemed almost sad since their afternoon delight at the hotel. She didn't know why, but tried hard not to add to that sadness. She kept her thoughts and heart upbeat, showering him with the afterglow of their time together, keeping her struggle alone in the bathroom to herself.
It is only the consuming of blood that corrupts us. Blood freely exchanged, directly into a wound is a special occasion. It indicates trust, because an open vein is a great temptation and can only be resisted by the strongest of us.
It only took a short time to fly across the Red Sea and into Saudi Arabia where the prison and mothers tomb lay under the desert sand. They passed over a caravan of camels and then another, both headed northeast. It reminded Nathalia of Jolie and her dreams. Jolie always saw a camel when she had a prophetic dream about Nathalia. It was her dream symbol because the camel was reflective of a person with many responsibilities who carries them on her shoulders. Nathalia held on to her emotions, like a camel stored water.
The dream had proven very accurate at predicting Nathalia's death. The great stone man Jolie had seen crouching over Nathalia's bloody body was most certainly the man ca
rrying her forever alive body right now. There was one physical difference between the real Eiran and the one in the dream.
Eiran didn't have a tattoo. Nathalia fingered the spot over his heart where Jolie had said it would be. It should have been two humps, like rolling hills. Jolie hadn't realized it was the symbol for camel, but Nathalia did.
They dropped through the ceiling of the main room of the mothers' tomb. This place was not very comfortable, but Nathalia felt relieved to be back. She would like it to feel more like it, but this place had become her home. Eiran gently put Nathalia's feet on the ground and held her while she steadied herself. She handed him the prisoner egg. He took it and walked briskly away, leaving her to face her destiny. Her eyes kept darting to the doorway she had to go through. The Igigi were just seconds away. So this is it, huh?
“Wait”, he called out. She turned to him and he was right there. He immediately kissed her in a way that left her knees week. It was slow, as if he was memorizing the details of her mouth, and it was needy, as if this might be their last goodbye.
Eiran put his palm on the back of her neck, his fingers slipping into the impossibly soft hair on the back of her head. He gently massaged there, but his real purpose was to hold her to him. His other hand moved up her outer thigh, over her hip and around her waist. He pulled her tight and rested his hand on the small of her back where it curved out into her buttocks. He tasted of life and she knew it was her life she tasted on his lips. She could feel he was pouring a lot of love, a lifetimes worth, into that kiss and Nephilim live a long life.
When he pulled away, he stayed locked in that embrace, but he held her gaze. Nathalia put her hand over his heart, where her tattoo should be and the memories immediately flooded her mind. She knew they belonged together, no matter how corrupted her feelings towards men had become through her life with Michael. Eiran would have saved her from all that pain if he had known she needed him.
Transit of Ishtar Page 14