Page 39 of Up from the Earth

“Not yet, little beast.”

His voice in my head was a hungry whisper, and then he slid his tongue away. I hated him for taking away the pleasure, crying out, “No!”

But then his tongue tickled down my lips, driving me mad before he circled my entrance over and over. When I thought I might die from the need, his tongue slipped inside me, sliding in so deep that he brushed my cervix.

My body seized, the feeling of him lavishing my deepest reaches nearly too much for me to bear. After a time—I was too overstimulated to determine how much—The King wound his tongue backward, swirling it in on itself and nudging that magical spot at the top of my walls. His fangs dusted my lips, pinpricks of pain adding to the intoxicating pleasure that swam through my blood.

“Please,please. I need to come.”

“There is no need to hold back for me this time, little beast. Let me feel you explode as many times as you like.”

And I did.

My walls clamped down on his coiled tongue, fluttering as I careened over the cliff into a land of ecstasy. I screamed into the ether, raining my release over The King’s tongue and mouth. He lapped it up, flicking over my clit with his tongue to keep my climax going. It was a downpour, my entire body trembling and pulsing, and my King, my sweet,sweetKing, drank up everything I had to offer like it was his personal ambrosia.

Blissed out was a vast understatement, and still, The King smoothed his incredible tongue through my folds in a soft, mesmerizing pattern. It kept the pleasure right at the tip of me, never letting me fall back down into reality. I was boneless except for the sporadic jerks that rocked me as his tongue hit overworked nerves.

Sitting back, my King stared down at me, that beautiful smirk on his glistening face. “So good, little beast. Your body is so very,verygood at taking my pleasure. So responsive.”

I bloomed, filled up inside with a sense of exaggerated pride. I adored the way he praised me as much as I adored his harsher words, and the way he ate me up with his eyes—not to mention his tongue—made my skin hum with crackling electricity.

“I will feel you succumb around my cock, your body delighting in the way I claim you.” He hoisted me up, positioning me over his lap with those endless strands of hair as he pulled the fabric away from his erection. “Sing for me, little beast.”

His shaft bobbed as it was freed from the prison of cloth, and he suspended me over him, The King’s binds holding my arms over my head as he gripped my hips and poised me to lower down. It was achingly slow, his hold dropping me down onto his thick twin shafts only a few centimeters at a time.

I was ravenous for more, but the agonizing progression lit up something inside me, this beautiful torture making my skin blaze and my heart flutter. I could pick out every sensation, every move, and every inch of smooth flesh that slid deeper into me.

“Ugh,” I moaned, circling my hips and flexing to reach more of him as more sounds of delirious pleasure tumbled from my lips.

So close to fully seating him, The King took both my hips in his hold, then jacked his hips upward as he pulled down. For as slow as it had been, it was suddenly that hard and complete. I cried out. The King’s cock was bottomed out inside me, his blunt head hitting my cervix as his thick shafts stretched me. I was so gloriously full, both of those magical erections rocketing me to a new realm of pleasure as my body was forced to accommodate them.

At once, he released my arms, and I couldn’t help but drop them around The King’s shoulders. He swept my hair back once more, his arm holding the center of my back as the other hand held the side of my face. In that moment, we held stares, and I was lost to the divine look in his eyes as he began to thrust his hips up and down in a purposeful, dedicated rhythm.

“I see you, my Queen.” The Beast King of the World of Below gazed into my very soul, and I clung to him, riding out the wave of euphoria. “I see you and everything you are capable of.”

Doing my best to match his rhythm, I moved slowly, a sensuous wave of motion that became a waltz between us. I wrapped my arm around his head, tangling my fingers in his hair, and pulled him to me. Our lips met a hungry but unhurried kiss that was equal parts passion and relief.

I let each sensation speak to me, telling me their stories of lust and release and acceptance.

Sweeping my tongue across his lips, I smiled, that coiling burn increasing deep within me. “I accept you, my King. I see what you are, and I love you—endlessly. I am not afraid of what you possess or what you can be. All of them are mine to keep.”

He grinned, a light in his eyes that I’d never seen before. “And I love you, little beast. In all ways or none, for there is no part of you that exists without the other. You are everything you are, and I love each fragment of that whole.”

The climax crested over me like a tsunami, all-encompassing and too mighty to comprehend. I shattered and expanded, my body one with The King’s as he pumped his spend deep into my womb. Warmth and the wonder of being whole filled me to the brim and spilled over.

I had known his carnage, his primal fury, and I loved him. I had now known his stillness, his fathomless expanse of perception and connection, and I love him all the more, regardless of form.

“Now, rest.” He stroked my face, his features smooth and softening so that they settled into a place of beautiful ambiguity. “You need to sleep, and I will not leave you.”

Smiling, I rested my head on their shoulder. “Good. I need you…here. Still deep, still here.”

A light chuckle leaked out of them as I drifted off into unconsciousness. “Oh, little beast. I will stay within you as long as time permits. And seeing as I can stretch it to a degree…”

Their words melted away, and I sank into the slumber that my body had been demanding for what felt like eons. Everything relaxed—perfectly warm—with my King seated precisely where they should be.

Eighteen

A Knock On The Gates Of The Underworld Is Not Meant To Be Answered.

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