My Eros (Modern Cupid and Psyche Dirty)

I need to...

I must...

My lips part, but before a cry comes out, I feel his free hand moving up, and his finger slips inside my mouth.

Aaaaah.

I find myself clutching his hand as I start sucking on his finger, and a moment later I feel his mouth switch to my other breast, his teeth scraping against the distended bud—-

It's so good. So, so good. It's so good.

Pleasure inside of me starts to sizzle, and just as I start sucking harder on his finger, his mouth leaves my breast to travel upward, and heat licks my sensitive flesh as his mouth latches on to the side of my neck.

Aaaaaaah.

It almost feels like he's branding me, with how hot and tender my skin suddenly feels under his mouth, and although there's this vague fear that this god is doing something as juvenile as leaving a hickey on my neck—-

There's just too much fire, too much pleasure consuming me from within that I can no longer think. All I can do is feel.

All I can do is savor.

It's so good. So, so good. It's so good.

The hard length of his finger inside of my mouth. The muscled strength of his body as it presses against mine. The hunger in his lips as he sucks on my neck—-aaaah. It's as if that part of my body suddenly catches fire, his lips scorching my skin to the point that the primal act feeds my desires, and I find myself finally starting to cum in his embrace.

Chapter Seventeen

Not going to class. Divine stuff to take care of. See you later.

Nia would probably appreciate a longer explanation, but it's all I have time to scribble down for a magnet-taped note to the refrigerator before my invisible god whisks me out of the room, and I find myself following him out of Dark Rose House.

It's just minutes after dawn, and there's still only a shimmer of sunlight in a sky that blushes softly in pastel shades. The air is quiet and cold, and because I still only have my nightgown under my coat, I start to worry if I might end up transforming into an icicle, no magic required. I'm about to bury my hands inside its pockets when the god pulls me close, and I'm surprised and secretly tickled pink. His invisible warmth envelopes me, and I snuggle closer with a little sigh.

Better?

I only trust myself to nod, fearing that if I speak I'll end up betraying myself when my voice turns all breathless and giddy. Although a part of me is still cynically convinced that this...this thing I have with my god will only lead to heartbreak, it's not like I have any choice. He's already gotten under my skin, and I'm no masochist. I've already had a taste of how it is to be without him, and it's an experience I'd rather not repeat.

Just a little farther, moraki mou.

A shroud of mist blocks my view of what kind of farther the god is talking about, and apprehension skitters down my spine when I realize we're heading to the southwest edge of the school. This part of Rosethorne isn't just strictly off-limits. It's also supposedly haunted, and I find myself gulping when I realize the god intends for us to walk straight through the thick, eerie-looking fog. A mist is never just a mist in the Post-3rd world, but just as I consider asking the god if we could perhaps take another path, it's also the same time he asks—-

Afraid, little bird?

I'm almost thankful for the teasing note in the god's soundless voice. It's just the distraction I need to make my fear wane as my hackles rise, and up goes my chin as I say without hesitation, "Of course...not!"

I end up shrieking the last word as the god suddenly yanks me past the shroud of mist, and just as I'm about to freak out and start yelling at him—-

Oh!

A startled laugh escapes me when butterflies with luminous flapping wings of varying colors catch my eye. My surroundings are as enchanting as they're familiar - a sky that's more pink than blue, a moon that shyly peeks from behind lavender-colored clouds, and trees that tower like crooked guardians watching over its mortal charges.

I turn to the god (or at least where I assume he's standing), exclaiming, "I can't believe we're actually here, and I'm not dreaming!"

This place is ours alone, and you can visit it anytime you like from now on.

The mist knows who to allow in and who to keep away.

The sheer beauty of the place makes me tug my hand free of the god's hold so I can better explore my surroundings. Butterflies flock closer as soon as I take my first step, and it eventually dawns on me that they're only willing to come close because I'm no longer next to my god.