Dreams of the Necromancer (Memento Mori 2)

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. “Real.”

“Good. It’s mine now.” Starting at the top, she began to unbutton his shirt. His face was slowly turning red as he watched her with that same look of nervous excitement on his face. Like he was afraid that if he made any sudden movements, she’d stop.

She had no intention of stopping.

But she was fine if he wanted to be shy. She shifted her hips, moving herself closer to his waist, and groaned at the feeling of his desire, already impressively outlined against his trousers, pressed against her. “Damn, Gideon.”

“It’s…been a while.”

Chuckling, she smirked down at him. “Not what I meant, silly.” She ground herself against him, slowly, back and forth, letting out a small sound that was drowned out by his louder one. “I guess if I could summon myself a custom body, I’d make sure it was packing some serious heat, too.”

Whatever he was about to say, she never gave him the chance. She kissed him, taking no prisoners, shuddering as she pressed him against just the right spot. She had to break the kiss to breathe. It was only then that she even noticed that Gideon had put his hands against her hips and was helping guide her motions. The look on his face was one of rapt bliss and tormented agony, all at the same time. It was beautiful. Damn him to hell, he was beautiful.

Sitting back up, she unbuttoned his shirt. When she reached his belt, she pulled the fabric out from where he had tucked it into his pants. Shifting back onto his thighs, she ignored his grunt of frustration as they parted. She knew he wasn’t going to be complaining for long. “Y’know, I’ve never done this before. You’re going to have to be patient with me.”

“Done what?”

When she undid his buckle and pants, carefully freeing him, she lowered herself until she was lying partially on his thigh, the rest of her between his legs. Ducking her head, she let herself satisfy her curiosity. Her burning question that she had never dared to voice. What did he taste like?

Gideon tilted his head back and moaned low in his throat. “Oh, gods…”

His pure desperation spurred her on. She dragged her tongue along him again, exploring him. She had never done anything like this before. Or at least, she really, really didn’t remember it. There was so much of him to learn, and she found herself eager to try. She took him into her hand, stroking him carefully.

His choked noise made her glance up at him. He was watching her keenly, silver eyes dark with passion, his chest rising and falling with deep, fast breaths. She could feel the heat of him against her palm, throbbing and perfect.

She didn’t think it was possible for him to get more eager for her touch, but his body reacted to her as if it were a thinking creature on its own. When she bowed her head to lavish him again, she felt him twitch against her, his breath catching sharply in his nose.

“Marguerite…”

“I know I’m a rookie. You’re going to have to be patient while I figure this out.”

“N—no, it’s not—it’s not that.” He groaned and tilted his head back, lifting his hips to press himself into her grasp. His words were breathy and deep. “I might—not—last long enough for you to learn.”

Oh. Right. The poor man’s been pent up. “Not your fault. As far as I can tell, I’ve been a total tease to you for a very, very long time. I’m just trying to make up for it. Besides…I think this might be fun.” Control. Freedom. That was what it felt like. But even more than that, something else sent a thrill up her spine as she tasted him again, daring for the first time to take him into her mouth.

Then she knew what it was.

Power.

He was the one being worshipped as she rolled her tongue around him, pulling him into her, bobbing her head slowly as she began to set a rhythm. She was the one at work while he lay there and moaned hopelessly, his arm now draped over his eyes, the other hand dug into the sofa beside her, fisting it desperately.

But she was the one with the power.

And god damn, it felt good.

She added it to her goals in life. Control, freedom, and power. And if this was how she scratched that itch, with his beautiful body tensing in waves beneath her as she tormented him with her tongue, then so be it. There were definitely worse ways to spend an evening.

Especially because it unexpectedly lit a fire in her. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was how simply erotic it was. Maybe it was the profane noises he was making. But she wanted more. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to see if she could fit him all, even though she could feel the stretch in her jaw. Do I have a gag reflex? I wonder.

Let’s find out.

She pushed herself down and felt him prod at the back of her throat. It was startling, and she felt her muscles clench spasmodically. But it wasn’t enough to deter her. Taking a breath, she did her best to tell those muscles to calm down, and she pressed him in deep once more.

He swore through gritted teeth. His fist pounded into the seat next to her. “Marguerite—mnh!”

Coming back up, she broke away from him with a gasp. She probably only managed to press him just the smallest bit past the threshold, but it sent a thrill through her that nearly made her head spin. “Oh, I like that.”

“If I could die, I think you might kill me.” He shuddered beneath her. He was nearly panting, cutting off after every few words as he struggled for air. “Marguerite, I—I do not know how to say this, but if you stop here, I—I may go mad.”