Just wait until my queen viewed a real-life orgy. I bet she’d bob up and down my cock all night after furious blushing and five minutes of pretending not to look.
Was it too soon to throw her that style of party?
Yes.
I sighed, willing to press progress even if I couldn’t have my orgy. It was not too soon to strip her out of those clothes and let her know the glory of soft sheets on bare skin. Which would get me in a bit of trouble when she woke, especially as I would be just as naked and pressed flush against her.
There was no helping my dripping erection, so that too she would experience and muse over.
How delicious her musings were.
What a pity I had not been able to read her thoughts in her past life. Had I been able to, I could have been far more cunning and much less violent with my jewel. She might have loved me even more.
I might not have had to threaten the life of the very baby whose delivery had drained her to the point of death. I might not have threatened to kill it if she had not made the oath that would bring her back to me.
A child I could not bear to look at as it grew. Who outlived all his brothers and took my throne when I wandered off to make the world bleed for leaving me soulless and desolate—the great, great, great, great, many more greats grandfather of Darius.
In whom, after a thousand years, I’d tried to make amends.
Considering Darius’ head was now on a pike and my soul was afraid of the pleasure due her, I should have killed that baby after all—horrible thing that tore its way out of the only creature in existence worth anything.
I supposed my love’s rebirth was a boon in the fact that she would remember none of this. And it would be thousands of years before she might gain the ability to pry into my thoughts and see what I’d done. By then she would be hopelessly tied to me, utterly in love. Devoted as I was to her.
Just lying near her made me ache.
I would give her physical pleasure for a thousand years and seek none for myself if only to please her. Though it might make my pants fit a bit oddly walking around with a constant erection. Perhaps codpieces might come back into style?
Nestling said erection between the warm buttocks of a sex-addled, drowsing daywalker, I covered us both with one wing. This too she would grow accustomed to, for I could not resist the need to do it.
The need.
Holding her in such a way fed me more than thoughts of fucking her. Though, there was no question I very much longed to plow her into oblivion. I could come all over her beautiful backside right now if I just let my mind wander into fun thoughts.
But waking up with dried semen on her back, already naked and in my arms, would absolutely make her mad. She might slap me.
I might like it.
And… it was too late. Like an untried boy, I had just spurt where I may or may not have been rocking myself against soft buttocks.
If I were to just… rub the come in, what was the harm in that?
Massages were very popular in this era. If she woke, I’d simply tell her I was trying to keep up with the times.
And still, she’d slap me.
It would be worth it.
Considering I was already hard again, I could keep this massage tactic up all night. Imagine how rested she would be when she woke. If I had a bath prepared, she would hop right to it in her modesty before really analyzing the situation.
Filling it with bubbles like the scene in the movie might even show her how adept I am in noticing what intrigues her.
Perhaps no bubbles, but a tub full of warm, immortal blood?
There were plenty of vampires in my prisons who were unworthy to pass her lips, but good as a blood bag to be tapped to luxuriate her skin. It would be a very vampire-y thing to do. Her first step into embracing her other half.
I’d be her servant, properly clothed with a toga around my hips, feeding her grapes and sips of blood straight from the vein while she soaked.
Three spurts of come on my sleeping wife’s back was probably the limit I might get away with before the sheets turned crusty. Hand to my cock, pulling forth the greatest release of the night, I did my best to angle more of it at me than at the sweet globes of her pale ass.
I really was such a liar.
What man in his right mind would not come all over so plump an ass?
Absolutely sane, I lifted my wing enough to see the creamy globs dripping toward her more intimate area, salivating to lick her clean, and groaned.
Heaven was Hell, and in my arms slept the true ruler of the underworld. Tormenting me with her beauty, her goodness, her scrumptious tits and ass. I was Hades, and she was Persephone, except in the real tale, there was no Demeter to steal her away from me for half the seasons. And now death could not touch her.
She was mine!
Skin black and burning, talons lengthening as my hands grew and my body bulged with strength, I cupped her flesh and seared my seed into soft skin. A bit frenzied in the art of manipulating muscle into bliss.
Many hours had already passed, the tub of blood had been prepared at my mental bidding, and beautiful blue eyes opened, wide with shock to see that, no, I did not cradle her and have her
