Page 38 of Up from the Earth

The King freed his hand only to take my face, his palms holding my chin and cheeks. “I wish to make your burden easier to bear. I cannot take it completely. Still, for as unforgiving and immutable as the World of Below is, I can find that quiet peace in it—for you.”

My heart may as well have cracked open. As it was, my jaw dropped slightly, and I huffed out a laugh as a tear dripped from my eye. He was not soft. He was not yielding. But my King—beastly as he ever was—could find it in him to be what I needed.

Because I was his, and he was mine.

“Kiss me.” I scooted closer, draping my legs over his, where he sat cross-legged in front of me. “I need to feel you again, feel…grounded.”

A gentle smirk lifted the corner of his mouth, and he reached up with those black-tipped fingers—threading them through my hair—to pull me to his lips. The fangs danced over my lips as he tangled his forked tongue with my mortal one. His entire being called me to him, pulling my spirit closer, and I let go of the myriad thoughts churning through my head, giving myself to the sensations.

In a slow creep, The King slid his hand down from my hair, across the length of my back, and to my hip. He hoisted me up and forward, seating me on his lap. The reformed dress that I acquired upon leaving The Crone’s lay over me in smooth layers of deep red fabric. Each one was sheer, but laying them one on top of the other created an opaque barrier over my legs.

Now, my position had bunched up the skirts around my hips, the low neckline stretching over my chest as I took deep, shuddering breaths. Best of all, there were no undergarments to stand in the way of my pleasure with the King. I could feel his straining erection beneath me, only his long garment keeping me from him. A moan seeped from me as he rocked my hips over him, his length brushing over my core.

“I can feel your wet heat calling out for me, little beast.” The King pulled me down harder against him, his firm grip on my hip and neck anchoring me to him. “Shall I fill you, keep your mind thoroughly on this moment?”

“Please, “I whined, rubbing myself against him as The King’s tongue fluttered over my neck and chest.

He pulled my long hair back from my shoulders, finding the dropped sleeves of my gown and pushing them lower to expose my breasts. The King’s tongue circled around my nipple, making me whimper, and then my hands were secured at my back with his never-ending spool of black hair.

I arched against his touch, craving so much more, but my King took his time, swirling his tongue over my breast as he grabbed handfuls of them both, squeezing tighter and tighter.

“But what if I wish to take you,pleaseyou?”

“Yes,” I gasped as he angled me backward, my breasts shoved all the more into his face, “anything.”

The binding across my forearms pulled me down to the moss, sprawling me out on the moss. The King knelt between my thighs, his tongue still working my nipple enough to make my legs scissor against his touch. But then he stopped. I whined for the loss of sensation, but it was quickly replaced by the firm hold of The King’s hands pressing my legs open.

I could feel the cool air on my slick folds, my arousal pooling inside me and decorating my inner thighs. They were fuller now, my hips wider. And I knew it was more proof of how I’d changed, how having Cerberus had changed me. The featherlight, silver lines that created sporadic patterns across them that stretched up to my lower belly were further evidence.

A flicker of self-conscious energy hit me, stealing some of the building pleasure. I tried to ignore the spiraling thoughts as my King’s lips found the crook of my hip and kissed in a painfully slow line toward my center.

“Where is that head of yours, wife? I can sense your unease.”

Chuckling slightly, I shook my head, feeling terrible for how The King could sense it. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry.”

He stared at me, and as quick as lightning, my King shoved my legs to the floor as he flung away any remaining cover of my dress. My lower half and my breasts were bared to him, but it was not enough, and his claws tore through the fabric, completely ridding me of any coverage.

I yelped, jumping slightly. “I need something to wear!”

“You need to hush and let me take care of you.” The King roamed his stare over my body, his cock visibly twitching beneath his coverings. “Besides, I will just make you another one, and you look your best fully exposed for me.”

Leaning forward, The King pressed his nose to my stomach, then dragged it down to my hip and then, at last, to my seam. I squirmed beneath the prickling sensations, arching up off the moss.

“Your scent is divine, little beast, and I’m going to enjoy eating you up.” I was desperate for that, my pussy clenching around nothing, and still, there was a beat of self-deprecation there—a thought that I was not worthy, not what I once was. “And you’re going to stop those thoughts right the fuck now. You are perfection, my Queen. I adore every curve and dip and evidence of birth painted over your body. Can’t you see what you do to me?”

At once, my bound arms were repositioned, one going over my head while The King forced the other down toward his waist, brushing my hand over his straining erection.

“Can you notfeelit?”

I whimpered low, a strangled sound of desperation and relief. I could feel him; I did want him, and I couldn’t deny that my King clearly wanted me as well.

“Yes,” I moaned, my hips shifting, searching for contact. “Yes…please…please. I need you. I need to feel you.”

That delightful, sadistic chuckle I adored so much rang out from him, and my entire being thrummed with life and lust. Without a word, The King swept my hand up to join the other one and then began to lick down the curves of my body. His tongue danced over the spiderweb striations in my skin, paying careful attention to each one as he languidly made his way down lower and lower.

And then his tongue slid between my folds.

I cried out, bucking against his mouth as his long, forked tongue coiled around my clit. He still moved so slowly, taking his time with devouring me. The King flicked the end of his tongue over that sensitive bud in pointed moves, his hands holding open my thighs even as I instinctively fought to close them. The pleasure roared in my veins, the buzzing sensation in that overstimulated bud at the tip nearly tipping over into a climax.

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