Dreams of the Necromancer (Memento Mori 2)

Need roared in her like an inferno. She dug her nails into his sides and raked his flesh. He broke the kiss to hiss in pain and pulled harder on her hair. She let a small mewling cry in response but did nothing to stop him. She wanted more. She surrendered to his strength, letting him arch her back.

“Wanton thing…teasing me. Tormenting me. Knowing very well what you’re doing. Nymph of the fire, dancing in the flames to torture me.” His voice was a low growl, reverberating in her. “I can take no more.”

His hands grabbed her waist, and she let out a small sound of surprise as he roughly yanked her hips to his. The sudden movement sent her falling back on the stone, lying there in front of him, her legs spread wide to accommodate his presence. He looked down at her, his face a mask of pure lust and frustration.

“Did I break the necromancer? Whoops.” She smirked wryly. She wasn’t one to ever back down. It was too late for her, anyway. She wanted to jump headfirst into this inferno. So where was the harm in leaning in?

He glared down at her, his teeth bared as he struggled to breathe. He ripped his tie from his neck and, without warning, slipped it around her throat and then into her mouth. He cinched it tight. “It is your turn to be quiet, princess.”

She moaned into the makeshift gag, unsure of why it made her body feel electric. She could pull it from her head without any problem. It wasn’t secured there. She could kick him. Scream. Fight him. Her hands were free.

This was her last chance.

She placed her hands over her head and, crossing her wrists, left them there as if they were lashed together. She would be a good girl, if maybe just the one time.

The noise that left him was profane. It almost sounded somewhere between a sob and a moan. His whole body shuddered, and he shut his eyes for a long moment. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside, and she found herself marveling at him. God, he was perfect. If he sculpted his body at will, she supposed that made sense. She wanted to touch him—to taste him—to really enjoy him.

But when he looked at her, she suddenly knew he might not be able to handle it. How long had he waited for her? How long had he wanted—no, needed this? Centuries. She should let him set the pace and lead the dance.

He took the edge of her tank top in his hands and peeled it up over her head before using it to crudely lash her wrists together for real. She arched her back up toward him, lifting from the stone, letting out a small, needy sound of her own. She wanted him to touch her, goddamn it!

Gideon watched her writhe for a moment before he slowly slid his hands over her body. Up and over the swell of her breasts, he explored her. Memorized her. As if he were finally touching a sculpture he had admired his entire life. He pulled in a shuddering breath and let it out. “Oh, my beautiful princess…my wonderful, astonishing creature.”

She lay there, watching him, shivering with each pass of his hands over her. He let one hand rest on her thigh as the other cupped one of her breasts, slowly kneading it. She moaned louder, arching her back into his hand, begging for more. Begging for him to do what she knew he wanted. To not be so gentle!

As if reading her mind, he clicked his tongue. “It isn’t for your benefit. It’s for mine.” When she groaned in frustration, he chuckled at her misery. “Patience, my surprisingly naughty darling. I’ll leave you bruised in the morning yet. But I need to ease myself into this, lest our foray be terribly short-lived.”

He toyed with her over her bra long enough that she thought she might go mad. Finally, when she was whimpering in desperation, he reached beneath her and unflicked her bra. He pushed it up over to rest by her wrists, and then lowered his head to her body.

When his teeth descended on her pert nipple, she wailed against the gag. She was suddenly glad it was there since they were still surrounded by soldiers out to kill her. She tossed her head to the side and rested her cheek against the cold stone, glad for its presence, as he bit down on her hard enough to sting.

She bucked her hips up into his, needing friction, needing more. It hurt, but it was incredible. He relented after a moment, rolling his tongue over her tormented skin, soothing the pain, before descending with his teeth once more, biting and pulling. If she could have cried his name, she would have.

She ground her body against him, wanting to feel him, as he pressed his hips to hers. She couldn’t hold back a moan at what she felt. If you were a guy and could pick your shape, do you think you’d choose to be average? Come on, be realistic.

Not that she was going to complain.

Not at all.

He shuddered and sat up, pressing his hands to the stone on either side of her, and looked down between them as he pressed his hips against her before relenting, miming the dance they were both so desperate to really begin. He shook again, and he pulled in a hiss through his teeth as he straightened to gaze down at her, bronze chest heaving as he desperately worked to fill his lungs.

Slowly, painstakingly, he pulled her jeans from her body. They were soaked, and it was a rougher job than either of them would have liked. But finally, she lay there beneath him, fully naked.

“Marguerite…my Marguerite.” He shook his head as if in awe. Stroking his hands over her bare thighs, she shivered as goosebumps washed over her at his touch. He wandered over her breasts again, squeezing them both, before descending once more. He was tender. Almost reverent.

And then he bent down.

Thank God for the gag.

When his tongue delved inside her, she arched her back so hard only her shoulders were left touching it. She had to bite down on the fabric in her mouth as he greedily descended on her body.

Pleasure arced through her like the lightning in the sky beyond. He threw her legs over his shoulders as he worked, and she could barely register a single thought past the ecstasy he was sending through her in pangs that almost felt painful, they were so intense.

When he centered his attentions onto her sensitive bundle of nerves and rammed a finger deep inside her without warning, her vision went white-hot. Ecstasy crashed over her so abruptly she couldn’t even make a noise. She could only twitch and spasm beneath him as every muscle in her body tightened in response to him.

She had never felt anything like it.

Oh, she’d touched herself plenty of times.