by Aja James
“Never,” Aella said fiercely, instinctively, forgetting her ambassador role.
“This is about cooperation, not one Kind exerting supremacy over another.”
Before the powerful male could take affront at Aella’s tone, Jade stepped in once more.
“Think about it, Ramses,” she urged gently but firmly.
Then added with a mischievous smile, “If nothing else, think how pleased your ‘little sprite’ will be to have her friends united.”
With a glance, she indicated to Inanna and Aella that it was time for them to withdraw.
“We shall leave you to contemplate all the ways you’ll require your Mate’s expression of gratitude,” Jade said, as if Ramses’ agreement was a matter of course.
Good negotiating tactic, that.
As they departed the throne room, Aella glanced back at the magnificent Dark King upon his imposing throne.
The ball was in his court, so to speak.
She prayed he would make the right decision.
Chapter Twelve
Perhaps super soldiers didn’t need sleep, Sophia thought, as her lover’s hands and lips roamed her body leisurely, his maleness buried within her to the hilt.
Endlessly hard. Continuously pulsing.
In time with the beat of his heart. Her heart. Their hearts as one.
How many hours had it been now? Perhaps not as many as she thought. Perhaps the universe had answered her prayers and suspended time, stretched out every moment and breath, to make up for the eternity that they’d been apart.
She couldn’t complain.
It was still pitch black in the forest, the only illumination from a low-slung moon, and its ghostly reflection flickering in the tranquil pool at the bottom of the waterfall.
Sophia lay on her back upon the mossy bank. Dalair lay mostly on top of her, pinning her body with his greater mass and muscular weight.
And more specifically, with his stone-hard cock. Keeping them locked together in the most intimate way.
She loved the weight of his body upon her. The heat of his skin, the drug of his scent.
She loved the silk-wrapped steel of him within her, how his manhood conquered, protected, anchored, and most of all—pleasured.
So much pleasure, she felt reborn. Experiencing the world in bold, new ways. Learning and understanding herself as she never had before.
Had her skin always been so soft, so sensitive? That an exhale upon her nipple could flood her with heat? Had her fingertips ever been so inquisitive? The need to touch and explore another so compelling that the loss of contact would leave her bereft? When had her bones and muscles become so malleable? That she melted into putty made of electrified nerves, that one small touch from him anywhere on her body would set off a thousand sparks throughout?
She never knew it could be this way. Though they’d…been together before, though she’d had other partners in other incarnations that she could no longer recall, this was different.
This was a true Mating. Every sensation multiplied exponentially.
Over the past incalculable, elongated moments, he must have taken her dozens of ways. At least, that’s what it seemed like to Sophia, whose countless orgasms had all blurred and extended and folded into one another, until her entire body was a limp, loose, discombobulated wreck of flesh and bones. Until only sensations remained, enslaved to her Mate’s will.
He was tireless. Demanding. Only leaving her pussy to penetrate her from a different position, searching for a different angle, mark and brand and own her in a different way.
She might have passed out at some point from exhaustion, euphoria, or both. But even then, she dreamed of his lovemaking, felt his body moving within hers.
Undulating. Taking. Giving. Clenching. Releasing.
As her own body melted, shivered and quaked beneath his onslaught, she felt Dalair’s body harden and strength even further. His muscles tensed to steel. His sweat running in rivulets, slicking their skin. His seed washing in hot waves over her womb, their combined fluids leaking down her thighs, imprinting indelibly into their skin.
And still, he plundered. Driving her past the brink over and over and over.
This was accelerating his healing, she knew. But she didn’t need that excuse any more to offer herself like a pagan sacrifice at this sex god’s altar.
And heavens! was her male a fucking incredible, incomparable sex god!
A giggle-cum-snort bubbled out of her in breathless gasps.
If she’d known this was what all the hubbub was about—carnal pleasures—she might have tested the Pure Ones’ Cardinal Rule a lot sooner. But then, she knew it would never have been the same. Because no one but Dalair could make her feel this way.
Nevertheless, where had he been hiding these talents during the two lifetimes of their acquaintance? That’s not to say she hadn’t thoroughly enjoyed their coupling before, during the few furtive occasions that they’d come together. But he’d always been restrained then. Whether by his own conscience or forcibly mind controlled by their enemies.
Dalair unleashed was like…
Sophia’s mind stuttered, as it always did when trying to come up with the right descriptors for her enigmatic warrior. Other males were easy to categorize. Human languages had a broad enough vocabulary to encompass all varieties.
But never Dalair. Not for her.
The essence of him couldn’t be captured by any adjective, or even a thousand adjectives.
He was always more.
More compelling. More magnetic. More addictive. More breathtaking.
He made her feel so much more. He awakened and inspired every part of her.
The modern feminist in her, the Gen-Z self-oriented part of her, felt as if she should rebel against the irresistible draw of him. She should be independent and self-sufficient, shouldn’t she? Whole unto herself. She shouldn’t need anyone else like this. She shouldn’t want to be dominated and protected and taken care of like this.
She was a queen! She was the Destroyer (not that she was proud of it, but still). She was one of the most powerful beings in the universe.
Why should one male matter so much? That she would move heaven and earth to have him by her side?
And yet…
Sophia would never lie to herself. The truth was: she wasn’t fully alive without Dalair. Only with him did she breathe freely, deeply, as if up to this point, she’d been suffocating all along.
He was her air. Her water. He was everything.
Dalair unleashed was like…
A supernova.
And all she could do was cling to him as her center of gravity while the shockwaves of his loving broke her apart and remade her. She could no longer form coherent thoughts, much less words. All she could do was feel.
Presently, one of his hands cupped the side of her face, his calloused thumb stroking over her cheekbone, fluttering her lashes. She tingled all over from that one small touch.
How did he do that? Since when did her eyelashes grow invisible attachments all the way to her clit? Because that’s where she felt it, the perpetually hard little bud pulsing in time with each stroke of his thumb across the tips of her lashes.
“Mmm,” she moaned, still half-asleep, turning her face toward him, seeking his mouth.
He rested his lips against hers, giving her his breath, but didn’t kiss her like she wanted. Merely letting her lethargically rub her mouth against his, the temptation of the almost-kiss maddening, making her want to wake up and take what she wanted properly.
Take him.
But Sophia was so tired. Completely and utterly blissed out. She wasn’t a super soldier or any kind of soldier. She didn’t have his stamina and strength, but she sure did benefit from it!
At the moment, she claimed no other modifier except female. And only to Dalair’s male. Yin and Yang. She’d never been as viscerally aware of her femininity as when he defined and redefined her with his hands, his mouth, his body and soul.
His hand drifted to her neck, that magical thumb stroking with just the right pressure over her throat.
She moaned again, letting him feel the vibration of her pleasure, how his every touch turned her on. Set her aflame.
He rubbed his face in the crook of her neck and kissed her jugular vein, then plumped it with his lips and sucked on her tender skin.
She sighed, feeling the draws of his mouth all the way in her core, which clenched reflexively around his hardness with a burst of new desire.
Goddess above! She wanted him endlessly, boundlessly. He made her insatiable, obsessed, addicted, and possessed.
In a minute…in a minute when she got her second wind she’d roll over and Claim him the way he’d mercilessly Claimed her. In a minute, when her limbs recovered from their post-pre-and peri-orgasmic stupor.
In the meantime, his large, calloused hand meandered lower, caressing her collarbone, outlining her sternum, to cup his palm under her breast. That ingenious thumb of his brushed lightly over her nipple, steadily stimulating it into a hard, needy bud.
Sophia was coming more awake now, the need he evoked in her superseding her body’s exhaustion. She clenched her thighs around his hips, her core fisting him reflexively.
As he moved lower over her body, he pulled a couple of inches out of her. She almost whimpered at the loss, but was distracted by his mouth closing over her breast. And when his tongue flicked her distended bud in a voluptuous rhythm, she writhed and arched beneath him, her hands forming claws in his raven locks.
“Dalair…” she breathed, desperate with need, lost to all reason.
“Please…”
In response, he drew the tip of her breast into his mouth and sucked, scraping the edge of his teeth gently across her nipple.
“Oh Goddess…” she groaned, as a tidal wave of pleasure crashed over her unexpectedly and tossed her into its undertow.
He kept suckling her breast, alternately gentle and demanding, drawing out the ecstasy until she was so wrung out she couldn’t breathe.
And just when she thought she’d die of this sharp, seizing cataclysm, he thrust deep and sat up, going to his knees. Bringing her like a boneless rag doll with him, using his strong thighs and buttocks to plow harder and deeper up and into her, his mouth at her breast sucking in time with the flexing of his hips.
Sophia held on for dear life, head thrown back in abandon, lips parted on a silent wail as yet another climax blazed through her, splintering her into a million brilliant shards of darkness and light.
He followed close on her heels, his hot cream flooding her womb, his body shuddering in her arms, all around her, inside of her.
She keened with relief, her own body rejoicing vicariously in his release, hungrily absorbing the Nourishment he gave her, milking him for every last drop.
And then, after the shockwaves had somewhat mellowed, he finally did pull free of her, despite her inner muscles’ reluctance to let him leave.
“No…” she started, her arms and legs scrabbling to pull him back.
But he didn’t go far. He merely kissed his way down her stomach to her hips as he laid her back upon the grass. And spread her legs wide with his commanding hands, laying her completely open and at his mercy.
His tongue lapped at her quivering bud, almost too sensitive from her orgasms, that she gasped in both pain and pleasure, even as her thighs parted farther of their own accord, inviting him to keep going. Keep destroying and remaking her with his ruthless loving.
A rumble reverberated through his chest, the sound rolling over her like distant thunder.
He was pleased with her acquiescence to his every move, it said, even though the male himself hadn’t spoken a single word out loud or through their mind link in all this time.
A man of few words and deep, deep feelings. That was her Dalair.
How she loved him! Craved him! Needed him!
His magical hand shifted then to her pussy while his tongue continued to play with her clit. Two long fingers entered her swollen channel, curling into her pleasure center toward the front.
Just like that, a match striking its strip, she caught fire once more, convulsing around his fingers, coming against his mouth.
His thumb replaced his tongue against her clit as he moved his mouth to her clenching core, licking and sucking at her slick and swollen labia, his fingers continuing to exert just the right pressure and friction inside.
Her surrendering groan was long and low. She could feel their combined fluids seep out of her in milky pulses as she clenched around him.
Despite the thickness of his fingers, she still felt bereft and empty without his cock. She wanted him back inside. It was where he belonged. She hadn’t had enough yet.
She would never have enough.
The soft suction of his mouth against her labia helped to ease her a little. But at the same time, his hand, his mouth—they only made her want more.
She clawed her hands into his hair again and pulled roughly, demanding from him what she’d lost the voice to say.
He understood, thank the gods! For he pushed himself back up her body, his hips fitting between her thighs once more as he reentered her in one hard stroke, stuffing her full of that perfect cock, joining them in the way she needed most once more.
And then, he did something that flipped Sophia on like a switch—he fed her their combined cream as he took her mouth, his thrusting tongue tantalizing her tastebuds with the salt and musk of his seed, the tangy sweetness of her pleasure.
More, Sophia hungered.
Mine, the monster in her howled.
He’d had his turn, and now it was hers.
*** *** *** ***
Dalair knew the moment the energy changed between them.
For the past couple of hours, Sophia had submitted to his every whim, let him have her any way and every way he wanted.
And he wanted her so fucking hard.
The more his body gave her, the stronger he became. He could feel his tissues knitting and strengthening faster. His bones growing heavier, fortifying to steel. His muscles expanding and tightening. His wounds healing as if they never were. Leaving him far stronger than he’d been when all of this began.
He still recalled what it was like to be human. As a reborn Pure One, he would always be grounded in his human experiences. He also recalled the one time he tried to forget her, when he applied to be the Consort for the Pure Ones’ Healer.
Because of these memories, he knew that their dynamic wasn’t…normal.
Sex should satiate and deplete the body, not fuel it with renewed power and stamina. Sex between immortal Mates was different, true, and given that there could only be one, there would never be a comparison.
But this…
This was something else altogether.
The powerful resonance between them was indescribable.
Inexhaustible.
Insatiable.
Indestructible.
The more they fed their need for each other, the greedier they became.
He’d used her roughly for a while, his hunger and need too great to control. But he only used her as roughly as she wanted to be used. She’d reveled in his command of her body with throaty moans and clawing hands. She’d begged him to fuck her harder, deeper, split her open and put her back together with his Nourishing seed.
Her eyes had been blacker than the night as she stared into his. Glittering and swirling as if they held churning galaxies of stars within them.
She was the Destroyer, he knew, recalling what his mind had stored away while he lay unconscious in the Pure Ones’ Shield, paralyzed but hearing.
He was her trigger.
He didn’t know what it meant precisely. Their enemies—Medusa and the new Master—had never talked of their plans openly in front of him. He only knew that they’d used him to Awaken her.
And he recalled, as he lay dying on the blood-soaked grounds outside the Temple of Neith as the human warrior who fought
to save Princess Kira, how her eyes had burned exactly the same—
Unfathomable darkness, stretching into infinity.
And yet, looking into those same eyes now, he did not fear what he saw in them. The darkness was there, but so were the stars. Like countless diamonds they shone, with a light that radiated from within Sophia, rather than the reflection of an external source.
He could see and sense the tremendous power within her—the Destroyer—ravager of souls. But he also felt, knew with every particle of his being, that the monster within her loved him. It was part of Sophia, and it loved him unconditionally, devotedly. Even though the love of a monster was a violent thing.
He saw that too.
He saw the fierce possessiveness and burning greed in her eyes when he fed her their cream, giving her the nectar he’d lapped up at her pulsing entrance.
The monster was awake, and it wanted to play.
She pushed her hands against his chest without much force. She never had to use strength to tell him what she wanted; he would always know her body, heart and soul’s needs and obey them.
He rolled them smoothly, keeping their mouths fused, their lower bodies locked, until he was on his back in the mossy bed of grass, and she was settled on top of him.
She broke the seal of their lips and licked around his mouth, savoring every last drop of their combined flavor, as if she couldn’t get enough.
“Dalair…” she murmured, pressing desperate kisses all over his face now, “you taste divine…you make me so hungry…I want to devour you alive.”
In wordless answer, he turned his head slightly, exposing the long, strong column of his throat.
Take whatever you want, his subtle movement said. Everything I have, everything I am, is yours.
With a primal growl, she buried her face in his neck and struck. Her fangs sinking deep into his jugular vein, the draws of her mouth upon his sweat-slicked skin hard and bruising.
He reveled in the biting pain-pleasure as she fed, his heart working hard to pump more blood. He gripped her hips and ground up into her from below, thrusting in time with her pulls on his vein.