Page 164 of To Trap a Soul

The black cloud of Weldir puffed away this time. She lost her hold on his horn, the sight of his face, and gained emptiness when his cock disappeared from within her without ever withdrawing. Her body, singing with satisfaction, disharmonised in disappointment over the loss.

When she finally managed to unlock all her muscles, her body was surprisingly heavy in the weightlessness of his world. Utter euphoria hummed within, and Lindiwe basked in it. She adored it, had adored this, and she was thankful that he’d instigated it.

Hopefully next time, he has better control of his form.She’d like to touch him properly, and reciprocate by pleasuring him. She had hands and a mouth she could use. Now that it was proven they could do this without any pain... Lindiwe had a deep-seated urge to try everything.

She wanted it to be naughty, and playful, and maybe even a little... sinful? Now that those tendrils weren’t worming theirway inside her, she wondered how they could be used to touch her.

Maybe if there’s more than one going inside me... or if it was thicker...The possibilities now seemed endless.

“Better?” he asked, letting her know he was still there even if she couldn’t see him.

Her lips curled upwards in response, making her eyes crinkle with joy, but she was still huffing too much to speak properly. She also doubted her voice would do anything more than crack incoherently from all her screaming.

Something touched her parted bottom lip, and it took her a moment to realise it was the pad of his thumb. It was flaky, and barely there, and it felt so soft that it moulded to her full lip rather than the other way around.

“You know what?” He rubbed against the middle of it, and Lindiwe had this overwhelming urge to lick it. Maybe even twirl her tongue around it. “I think this may be the first time you’ve ever smiled at me.”

Her smile faded as her heart stuttered coldly.Surely that’s not true...

Yet, in all the years she’d known Weldir, Lindiwe couldn’t recall a single time when she had smiled because of him.

April 23rd, 1761

Leaning her hands on the rock behind her and one leg bent so her foot was tucked under the opposing thigh, Lindiwe kicked her other leg back and forth as it dangled over the edge of a cliff. Bright, barely warm sunlight showered over her as orange-and-brown leaves fluttered around her from a light gust and swept into the canyon below.

She soaked in the crisp, cool air, taking in deep, refreshing draws, as she kept her eyes closed and tilted her face towards the sun.

The tangle of rot was present in the air, a sweet decay, but Lindiwe was so used to being in Weldir’s mist that her mind was able to separate it from the rest. Most might consider it foul, but she knew the truth of it.

It was the result of healing. Of Weldir fixing the tainted souls Demons destroyed, then purging that sickness from his realm to here. It would dissipate and return in waves, depending on if he was actively healing and consuming new souls or not.

Today wasn’t too bad, especially as he hadn’t done it foralmost a year. Then again, he had not spoken to her in that long either. He slept all that time, and had since she was last in his realm. The use of destroying a soul to save her from Ari, and the excess use of his magic during their intimacy, had taxed him exponentially.

She’d been alone, and oddly enough, it gave her space to miss his voice. His very presence, despite it never being next to her on Earth.

Her heart and mind had flipped regarding him ever since that fateful day. He’d made her body sing, and it hadn’t stopped humming since – even despite the stretch of time. She often found her lips curled upwards, and her pussy throbbing in memory.

For the first time since she gave him her soul, Lindiwe felt... hope. The desolation wasn’t as pressing, the loneliness not as yawning and deep. The feelings were still present, but that was because they had much left to resolve and Lindiwe doubted either of them truly knew the solutions.

We’re still worlds apart.

He was there, and she belonged here. He didn’t have a real form, and she did. Despite the pleasure they’d shared, she didn’t know if there were any deeper emotions present from him, and she still felt empty regarding that.

A loveless marriage. An unsteady bond.

The foundations of them were rocky and as weak as his magic, coming and going in strength. Pushing and pulling, barely warm and then cold.

It was a lot to think about, and she’d been reflecting much in the quietness he’d given her.

Lowering her face from the blinding light, she opened her eyes to look down at her brightly coloured skirt, yellow and red in bold patterns. Balancing back on her left arm, she placed the right on top of a small white skull, and petted the babyDuskwalker currently nestled up in her semi-folded lap. Her skirt was like a temporary hammock for them, making sure they were truly comfortable and supported.

Leonidas wasn’t as much of a lion as her dear Ari, but they bore a similar feline skull, and she believed that was enough. She couldn’t quite remember who the name belonged to, but she remembered reading that it was related to some kind of warrior. They’d need that loan of power in this violent world, and she hoped the name could give that.

Except her lips pouted as she looked down at them. “You’re pretty lazy though.”

They reminded her of Nathair. They wanted nothing more than to lie in her lap and cuddle, often burying their nose into some crook of her body.

They were also a rather curious creature, quick to be alert and chase after any new scent and sound with tenacity. She kind of admired that about them.

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