The Necromancer’s Bride

“Stop it, please,” I beg him.

Meremon glances up at me. “Do not fret. It will not go so deep as to break your maidenhood.”

The last thing I’m thinking about is my maidenhood as I anticipate the enormous leech biting into my hidden flesh. Meremon places a hand on my hip, stroking me in what I suppose he thinks is a comforting manner as he watches his disgusting creature worming its way into me. It doesn’t hurt—yet, at least—but it’s the strangest sensation I’ve ever experienced.

Meremon keeps stroking me, and then he moves his hand lower, down over my pubic bone to brush against my sex. He strokes again, his thumb rubbing through my folds. “You are so beautiful, my Rhona.”

He leans down and kisses me there, his lips gentle as the leech still pulsates within me. Then his tongue slides against my swollen pearl and I moan despite myself. He’s cold like the slime but he feels more intense. He sucks my little nub into his mouth and rolls it against his tongue, making me cry out.

Meremon is the very devil and yet he makes me feel like heaven.

I can feel the creature still wriggling inside of me and my inner walls clench around it, as if delighted with its presence. The ache in my belly is dissipating as the golden strokes of Meremon’s tongue take over. I hate that I love how he makes me feel. That his sweet cruelty is more tender than anything I’ve felt my whole life.

I can feel myself approaching that precipice again and even the dreadful leech feels good. There’s no pain, only Meremon licking my sex and his hands caressing my breasts. I close my eyes and just feel, unable to do anything else, unable to even hate him or fear him as the waves of sensation roll over me.

His thumbs pinch my nipples softly as I reach my peak, my back arching and my hips flexing against his mouth despite his enchantment. Meremon goes on licking me with long, slow strokes throughout the climax gripping my body. It’s stronger than ever this time and I feel myself squeeze the thick leech at my core.

Finally the tension passes off and I lie on the table, gasping. Meremon reaches down and tugs the leech out of me and after a moment of resistance it slides free.

Breathing hard but finally able to move I ease myself up onto my elbows and watch him examine the thing on his palm. There’s a smear of blood on it but thankfully none on Meremon’s mouth. Maybe there wasn’t much as I’d only just started.

“What are you going to use that for?” I ask with a shudder, eyeing the still writhing creature.

Meremon arches a long brow. “Use it? I have used it. It is filled with your pain.” He turns to the fireplace and throws the leech into the flames, and it sizzles and shrivels up.

Tenderly, he helps me sit up and gathers my chemise around me, the fabric melting back together at his silent command and covering my breasts. “I can’t have my bride suffering. You’ll never feel that pain again.”

I look at the fire and then back at him. “But how?”

He smiles, a delighted smile, and whispers, “Magic.”

Then he kisses me. I make a frustrated noise in the back of my throat and pull away. I know it’s magic but he’s a necromancer. I thought all they did was play with corpses. “I don’t understand anything that you do.”

“It is very simple. I wish to make you happy.”

I look down at the smoky star in my hand.

Seeing the direction of my gaze he traces the mark with his forefinger. “I wanted it to be this way. One who has accepted death is very beautiful to me.”

His arms are around me and he’s strong and cold and yet comforting at the same time, and he presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I only want to make you feel good, deliciae. I am trying to remember how and you must be patient with me. It’s been a long time since I’ve touched a living woman.”

I feel my flesh creep a little. A living woman. I don’t think I want to know. “You want me to feel…good?

“Yes. To experience a sensation that is pleasurable. To be aware of me through my touch.”

“I know what feeling good means,” I reply, exasperated. “I didn’t know that that was what you were trying to do.”

He’s more baffled than ever. “Why, yes. Is that not my duty as your husband, to give you pleasure and to take away your pain?”

The slime. The leech. I thought his intention was to experiment on me, to torture me. “Men in my village do not court women in these strange ways. And I’m not your wife. Next time you feel the need to come at me with a jar of slime or a giant leech at least tell me what your intentions are.”