“Then enough toying.” Melenius laid her down and rose to his feet. Nevia looked up at him, admiring his broad chest as he stripped the rich tunic from himself. The burgundy cloth fell unheeded to the floor, and Nevia feasted her eyes on Melenius’s once more erect cock.
“I want my wife, and I shall have her.” Melenius turned Nevia over onto her knees and elbows. He did not unbind her hands, so she was obliged to lean forward, more fully exposing her sex to him.
And then his cock was inside her, and Nevia lost herself in bliss.
****
The blood pounded in Nevia’s ears. Her belly was pressed into the wooden pole that Melenius had rigged to hang from the ceiling of this small dwelling. She could, if she slid backward, rest her feet on the floor, but doing so pulled on her wrists; so she did not do it for long. Melenius had had her up on this bar twice before during these two days, but not for so long as this. Her pussy ached from her need to climax, but though Melenius had tongued her breasts – which were just at a height for him to suck while seated on a low stool he had found – and though he had fingered her pussy, he had always pulled back just before she could come.
Now Melenius sat beside her, as naked as she, stroking the length of his cock, and its hardness, its girth, intoxicated her. That cock had brought her to more climaxes than she could count over these two days, but at this moment her need was so great that the number of times she had come before was irrelevant.
“Melenius.” Nevia lifted up her head and fixed him with her gaze. “Give me your cock!”
“Demanding, are we?” Melenius rose. He stroked the side of her cheek with his penis. “Why?”
“Because I want it.” Nevia could feel her wetness increasing just from the proximity of her husband’s cock.
“Want it?” Melenius bent down and kissed her lips, a lingering, open-mouthed kiss. “But we don’t get what we want.”
“I need it.” Nevia knew what he wanted her to say, and it was only the truth.
“That’s different.” Melenius moved behind her once more, and Nevia tensed in expectation. He placed the tip of his shaft just between her dripping pussy lips. Then, with a sudden swiftness that gave her a fresh appreciation for his sheer physical strength, Melenius tilted her toward him. She slid onto his cock with all her weight, and she cried out in the painful pleasure of it. Despite how many times he had been in her, his size was still a little too much for her.
He rammed into her, building his rhythm, and each forward thrust brought stars to Nevia’s eyes; each backward pull nearly brought her to tears. He leaned over her, over the beam on which she rested, and his hands found her breasts. Her nipples were like pebbles between his fingers, and he brought his head toward her ear. His breath on her cheek sent shivers up her spine. “Now, come for me.”
Nevia lost herself in her responding climax. She could not see, could not breathe, and only his pulsing cock in her pussy kept her fixed in the world. The sensations rocked her body, and her elements amplified them. Nevia’s Fire and Earth were so utterly commingled with Melenius’s Air and Water that, suddenly, she felt his orgasm added to her own. As he filled her pussy with his cum, she felt a flash of the joy he derived from so dominating her, and she knew he felt her pleasure that this should be so.
****
Nevia covered her torn gown with her cloak. Melenius laughed as she glowered at him, and she tried fruitlessly to keep the gown over her breasts.
“Are you able to walk, my snowflake?” Melenius stood by the door of the hovel, and she felt the emotions that held him. Care for her was there, but so, too, was a reluctance to leave this place where they had been able to enjoy each other openly and freely.
“Yes.” She put her arms around his waist. “But only just. My pussy is sore beyond belief.”
“I don’t intend to give you a rest, you know.” Melenius dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “Somehow, some way, we must find each other. I cannot go on without you.”
“I need you,” said Nevia. “Half my elements are in you, and without elements how can a Lorin live?”
“Then it is decided. I must have at least a kiss of your frosty lips every single day, even on the road. As for the rest of you, well.” Melenius slapped her ass. “I will take that as the occasion arises.”
As they walked back toward the town proper, Nevia realized that every part of her, not merely her pussy, was delightfully sore. Every part of her except for her ass. Not once in the two days had Melenius even tried to slip a finger inside her ass.
Nevia sighed in her airs. Melenius had enjoyed her pussy, but he had taken Garalach’s ass.
Chapter Fourteen
Melenius caught Nevia by the arm and pulled her into a curtained alcove.
“We will be seen,” Nevia whispered.
Melenius shook his head. Cena was due to begin in a few minutes, so he had to work quickly.
“This won’t take long.” He produced the anal plug he had shown her on their honeymoon.
It was Nevia’s turn to shake her head.
“Yes,” Melenius said. He pulled out a vial of scented oil from his small shoulder bag. Nevia’s frosty eyes widened, and he smiled in his airs at her coyness. He poured the oil over the plug, then rubbed it around the head and down its length. “Turn around.”
Nevia did so, but she kept her eyes on her husband. Melenius had never seen anything sexier than his beautiful wife looking over her shoulder with fear and anticipation trembling in her elements as he hitched up her dress. Her fine, white ass was just what he wanted, and his cock hardened. He considered taking her right there, but the sound of music coming from the atrium made him think better of it. The entertainment had arrived. Dinner was imminent, and they would be missed if they were not punctual.
Melenius dabbed a bit of oil on the rosebud of Nevia’s anus and rubbed it around with his thumb. Nevia moaned.
“Quiet!” Melenius’s tone was half serious, half mirthful.
He pressed the tip of the lubricated plug against her ass and slowly applied pressure. He did not at once break her wall, and he was surprised at her body’s unwillingness to allow entry. With a stronger but still gentle push, he felt the pop as the plug slipped into her back passage.
Nevia’s knees buckled, but she did not collapse. The temperature in the alcove plummeted, and though Melenius knew her fires were stoked, she fixed him with an icy glare.
Nevia stood and let her skirts fall back into place. “You dare toy with the ass of an Akara?” She raised her hand to slap Melenius, but he caught her by the wrist.
Melenius lightly bit that wrist as he tweaked her nipple with his other hand. “Now, go be a good girl, and eat your supper.” He opened the curtain and slapped her ass on the way out.
Nevia continued to murder him with her eyes, but her elements betrayed her increasing desire. He sensed her laughter on his winds.
Cena was an elaborate affair, much more so than Melenius would have expected for just a one-night stay in a provincial town. As exotic, half-naked slaves from far-away lands juggled fire sticks before them all, Melenius turned to Judal the Younger.
“I wonder, why all this?” he asked. He popped a fresh, green olive in his mouth.
Nevius, reclined on one elbow, sipped his mulled wine and answered without taking his eyes from the entertainment. “We are returning from a great victory. Though Belamal presses forward, there will be glory for us upon our return to Nirrion. Why not celebrate a little? This is my father’s villa, after all.”
“Fair enough.”
“Enjoy yourself, Firin,” Nevius said. “You and my sister are saviors of the republic.” Nevia’s couch was situated close to his so that their heads would be near each other for conversation. He leaned over and kissed her brow.
Melenius, on the other side of the low table laden with rich food, watched this sibling exchange, knowing that her ass was plugged, that her cunt was probably wet as spring rains.
Nevia betrayed nothing; she could n
ot to her brother, anyway, but neither did her elements. She was cool, collected, and calm. Melenius nodded in her direction, raised his cup in a silent toast to her, and drank its contents. A slave refilled his cup at once. Nevia, playing at human expressions, narrowed her eyes at him. Melenius almost choked on his next drink.
Radish salads and oysters gave way to hot-boiled goose and songbirds with asparagus. Between the appetizers and the main course, clowns had come to re-enact the battle of Vieta. The actor who pantomimed Belamal wore comical armor, and his gold-painted face twisted in all manner of melodramatic expressions.
Nevius ripped hot, juicy meat from the bone with his teeth. “Belamal Triumphant, to be sure.” His mouth was half-full of goose. “Too bad Garalach isn’t here. He could’ve made your job in Vieta easier.”
Melenius felt the instant drop in temperature, and the braziers that burned around them dimmed.
“More wood.” Nevius snapped his fingers at the nearest slave.
Nevia did not look at Melenius. Her eyes were fixed on the small plate she held on her lap. The name of Garalach clearly upset her, and Melenius wanted to go to her, to hold her and remind her of how he had been deceived. He had never stopped loving or wanting Nevia. It had not been his intention to betray her.
But Nevia would not return his glance.
The sun disappeared from the sky, and a cold wind blew through the peristyle and into the atrium.
“Gods, it got cold,” Nevius said, snapping his fingers again. A slave draped his cloak around his shoulders.
“Spring weather is changeable, brother,” Nevia said. She inspected and nibbled at a quail egg.
“Elendrie’s dirty ring! Will you look at that?” Nevius rose and walked toward the garden.
Snow fell in large, white flakes, drifting down in silence to settle upon newly budding flowers.
When Melenius looked at Nevia, he found her already staring at him. She spoke to her brother but did not shift her gaze from Melenius’s face.
“It is an uncommon sight, Nevius, but not unheard of. A slight flurry, no more. Soon it will pass.”
“I hope so,” Nevius said, returning to his couch. “I don’t want to be delayed by unseasonal weather.”
The main course moved into dessert, but the stuffed dates were not sweet to Melenius; the honey cakes had no taste. Nevia’s inscrutable elements lay hidden from Melenius. The storm increased in intensity until the diners were obliged to abandon their leisure altogether. The wind whipped through the house, toppling statues and tearing curtains from their hooks.
“I’m off,” Nevius said, rising and departing. “Good night, sister. Firin.”
“And I am for my bath,” Nevia said to Melenius. She rose but did not bid her husband good night.
Melenius could not let her walk away; he could not let her go to bed angry.
He caught her in that same hallway and pulled her into that same alcove. “I don’t want you to be upset about this. I’ve already told you that Garalach had lied to me.”
“I know, husband.” Nevia put her hands flat against Melenius’s chest and pressed her pelvis against him.
Confusion suffused Melenius’s elements. “Then why this reaction?”
“What reaction?”
“The storm.”
Nevia’s blue eyes searched his face, and her elements grew still. Then, like a geyser, they burst forth in laughter. “That is you, my dear.”
“Impossible,” Melenius said. “You are ice and flame.”
“And you are, too. Do you not remember our bonding in Vieta? You share my elements, just as I share yours.”
Melenius searched himself and found the source of the storm. It originated within his elements, that part of him which was Nevia.
“Why?” he asked, but he was not sure what he was asking about.
Nevia’s earth rose up to touch his troubled winds. “You dwell on Garalach.” Nevia had read him more easily than he could ever have understood himself. He might have puzzled for weeks about the storm, all the while burying the city in snow.
“I do. I wish I’d been smarter.”
“How could you have known? I admit that I was jealous, but no more.” Nevia pivoted and pressed her ass into Melenius’s cock. It sprang up at once. “Now that you’ve given me this, I know what else you have in store for me. Garalach does not get to keep from me what you gave to him. We are bonded, and I shall have you body and soul.”
Melenius burned with her fires, his cock a hot brand eager for action. He rubbed his hands over her ass. “Don’t take the plug out, even while you bathe. If I find out you’ve removed it, you’ll be punished.”
Nevia wiggled her ass against him and moaned. He reached up and cupped both her breasts, folding the palms of his hands around her nipples, stimulating them to erection.
“To hell with that,” Melenius said. “I’m going to punish you anyway, if for no other reason than for being so damned irresistible.”
Footfalls nearby cut short their amorous play, and before Melenius could speak, Nevia was gone, having darted out into the darkness of the hall. Her voice came back to him on his winds. “Do not let the storm end too soon. I plan to be snowed in in Rendoras with you for a few days.”
Melenius’s guilt fled from him quick as Chiel’s breath. He had never loved anyone so much as he adored his Nevia.
****
Melenius waited in his room for Nevia. He had his two most-trusted slaves position his special couch in the middle of the room over a plush rug. Fragrant incense burned near the open window, and braziers hot with fiery coals burned all around the room, invigorating Melenius with the mixture of cold and heat. Just like Nevia, his queen of ice and flame.
The door opened, and a hooded figure crept in. Melenius fought against his sudden joy and stifled his winds, keeping himself from calling out Nevia’s name. She removed her hood, and her white-blonde hair fell around her shoulders.
“Your brother didn’t see you?” Melenius took a step forward.
Nevia shook her head.
“And you’ve not removed the plug?” Melenius took another step forward.
Nevia again shook her head.
Melenius wrapped his arms around Nevia’s slim waist and pulled her to him, his hands running down the small of her back and grabbing her ass cheeks. She was naked under her cloak. Nevia’s eyes darted to the slaves.
“Don’t worry,” Melenius said. “They can be trusted.”
Nevia did not immediately remove her gaze from Melenius’s servants, but when Melenius kissed her lips, she fell into his arms, clearly no longer worrying about who saw them embrace.
As they kissed, Melenius checked her ass. The flanged end of the plug was lodged between her cheeks in the center of her damp heat.
“I’ve wanted you this way since the first time we coupled,” Melenius said as his kisses trailed from her earlobe down her neck to her shoulder, “but not on our honeymoon. That was a time for new experiences.”
Melenius felt Nevia’s body trying to pull away. He stopped kissing and looked at her.
“You think I have been ass-fucked before?”
“Of course. What noble maid has not? The daughters of the high clans are known for their anal exploits.”
“I have not.”
“Truly?” Melenius waited for Nevia’s mirth to betray her, but her elements remained grave. “You’re telling me that you’re an anal virgin? Why?”
“Do you think I would ever let a slave fuck me in the ass?” Nevia asked. “To let a slave have such total dominion over me?”
Melenius had never thought of it like that before. Nevia was proud as any Akar he knew, the model of her clan’s reputation. As a man, Melenius had always taken, from pretty slaves both male and female, and even from Garalach. He had never been taken. Yes, it was the feeling of domination that thrilled him. That was why he preferred anal sex.
“And what about your husband?”
Nevia nestled back into his chest. “I have
given myself to him. He does not need to ask. I love him because he takes what he wants.”
The thought of Nevia being an anal virgin, coupled with what she just said, sent desire rushing to Melenius’s cock. He picked Nevia up off the floor and carried her to the couch. He tore her cloak from her, and the sight of her naked body excited him. He could only think about being inside her.
“What is this?” Nevia pointed at the couch. “I’ve never seen one like this.”
“It’s my own design.” Melenius ran his hands down the sloping dip in the middle. “It makes for deeper penetration. I brought it, hoping to carry you off, but—”
“Show me how you use it.” Nevia lay down on the couch, her ass set at an incline, exposing her sex to Melenius.
Melenius could not wait. He did not want his cock sucked; he did not want to eat pussy. He just wanted – needed – to be inside her. He grabbed Nevia by the ankles and lifted her legs as far as they could go, and this had the result of moving her ass to an even steeper incline. He put the head of his erect penis against her wet, pink slit, and her blossom opened to him. Her pussy took the full length of his cock, but because of the position, and because of the length of Melenius’s cock, he hit her cervix.
Nevia squirmed and threw her legs up, locking her forearms under her thighs. Melenius started slow and easy, his balls brushing against the flanged end of the butt-plug. His position was like that of a rider leaning forward in a saddle. The chair was designed to hold his weight comfortably while allowing him to mount his lover, putting all his weight into his thrusts without injuring Nevia. His pace worked up to a pounding rhythm, and he exulted in his view of his long cock thrusting in and pulling out of Nevia’s shaved pussy. His cum built inside him, that slow burn he knew how to control, to get it to the tip but no further, to let it gather there until he was ready to spray several ejaculations’ worth of cum into her.
Melenius let Nevia rock against him. He wrapped her head up in his arms and crushed her face to his chest as he fucked, no longer pulling out so far but keeping his cock steady inside her as he gyrated his hips. Then his fucking became rapid and deep so that the deepest part of Nevia was continually stimulated. She cried out and came.
Chasing Earth and Flame Page 14