This I like very much. “Any way you want me,” I say, proving my words by doing as she asks. I’m on my back with my cock naked and wet in the cool air. “But please, please have me. It hurts.”
She clucks and tilts her head. “But I like it when you hurt.”
My belly clenches with how much her words affect me, and my cock strains upwards, leaking fast and hot at its head, resting back on my abs and then bobbing up again, as if reaching for her touch.
Nimue crawls onto the lounge and moves herself between my legs as I used to move between hers. She gives my hole a courtesy brush with the cool tip of her penis and then she wedges it against the pleated rim. I breathe without her telling me, she gives me a reassuring smile and shh shh shh. And then she fucks her way inside. Once again, the breach is toe-curlingly harsh, biting and deep and violent in the most consuming way.
I can’t believe I’ve lived without it all these years.
The harshness peels away any defenses I have against her, the bite and the depth flays me raw…the violence binds me to her and makes me hers. There’s no part of me she doesn’t own, no part of me that isn’t open and available to her. There’s no discomfort that she can’t transfigure, no modesty that she won’t shred open into rich, bleeding love.
Her eyes stay on the place where she sinks inside me, until after several slow glides that massage the blunt head of her dildo against my prostate. Then she drags her eyes up to my rigid length, currently leaking all over my stomach, and finally up to my face. The love and apology I see in her eyes steals my brea
th away, leaves me thoughtless, entranced.
“You are so handsome when I fuck you,” she tells me.
“You are so beautiful always,” I respond. “No matter what you’re doing. I’ve seen living magic and breathing legends, little moon, but you are the wonder of my eyes, you are the sight that steals my breath every single time.”
“I’m done stealing, Merlin,” she says, her eyes soft and burning all at once. “I’m done taking what’s not mine.”
“It’s yours,” I say. I plead. “It’s all yours. Everything, everything I am and have, and please. Take it, take it, take it.” A blade of sheer agony digs between my shoulder blades at the thought of her not taking what’s hers, of her stopping anything that we started here.
She shakes her head, lowering her face to mine. Her lips still moving in gentle, languorous rolls. She lays a hand flat over my heart. “This? Is this mine?”
“Yes,” I breathe up against her mouth.
Her hand trails lower, grips my shaft. “And this?”
“You know it is, Nimue.”
“And where I’m fucking you?”
“Yours.”
Her lips are the barest brush away from mine now. “And your hands? The arms I love to sleep in at night? Those black eyes and that sinful mouth that kisses me everywhere?”
I try to kiss her now, and she doesn’t quite let me. “Of course, little moon.”
“I think,” she says slowly, closing her eyes, “I think this was what I was supposed to take all along. I think this was the power I was meant to steal. Not your magic, but you, I was supposed to take you. This was how we were supposed to be, but I didn’t know the first time…”
I nearly laugh, but I’m too fucking sexed up, too desperate for Nimue to score the insides of my soul with her ownership. “No, I don’t imagine you grew up in post-Roman Britain knowing you wanted to fuck men with a fake cock.”
She gives me a deep, stabbing thrust for my lip, and I moan. But she also smiles. “Then we were meant to go through this life again. To learn what it was I really needed from you. And to learn what you really needed from me.”
“And what is that?”
She takes my cuffed wrists and moves them above my head, pinning both in place with one slender hand. “You needed someone to share it with. The sight. It’s been your burden for two lifetimes, for fifteen centuries, and you’ve been staggering under the weight of your duty for so long that you think that you’re ready to die now that your work is done. Rather than truly live.”
“I—”
I have no response. I’ve never considered that, never even thought of myself as burdened and struggling. Lonely, yes, but actually worn down to the point of apathy about being alive?
Is that what’s been happening to me?
“It’s okay, Merlin. You don’t have to understand right now. You only have to give me your mouth.”
Still confused, I tilt my chin and offer it to her at her new angle poised above me. “Just let it happen,” she murmurs, and before I can ask what she means, her lips slant softly over mine. Warm and yielding and silky as I deepen the kiss to enter her mouth with my tongue.
