Page 21 of Fate & Monsters
No, it would be crossing a boundary to reach lower and grab her legs, to pull them apart and see the soft, inviting center of her. She was asleep. Touching her now would be madness.
Her ankles were so tiny in my hands.
The skin of her calves and inner thighs were as soft as flower petals in bloom. She rolled onto her back fully as I adjusted her. Her nightgown rose higher, flashing a glimpse of the appetizing quim at the apex of her thighs. Saliva pooled in my mouth as her intoxicating aroma filled the room. One hand clutching her underwear, the other skimmed up her hip, lifting the silk over her chest.
Supple and mouthwatering. She had glorious breasts with pale nipples that almost blended with the rest of her skin. My eyes gorged on the flare of her waist, the jut of her hipbones, the ladder of her ribs rising with her deep inhales. Lower to her navel and the delicious meat on her bones, then down to the wispy thatch of blue hair barely concealing the plush lips of her cunt.
I licked my lips, wishing for a taste of her. I barely restrained myself. With her underwear in one hand, I gingerly climbed onto the bed to kneelbetween her spread legs. So tiny, so small and petite. If I wasn’t careful, I’d crush her.
Underwear pressed to my face, my free hand drifted down my stomach into the laces of my trousers. I tore them open, desperate for relief from the straining pressure on my cock. My tail whisked over the edge of the bed, twitching at the end as anticipation coiled within me. A broken grunt escaped me when I freed my painfully stiff cock and stroked.
A shiver attacked my spine when my thumb bumped the swollen base. Excruciatingly aroused enough for my knot to form. She was doing this to me, and I needed a release from the pressure in my loins. I palmed myself, inching higher with each stroke until my fingers met the precum beading at the tip. I gathered the sticky fluid and rubbed it around the head before squeezing and descending to my knot. A stuttered breath rattled me as I jerked off, slowly, leisurely, savoring the view.
Supine as she was, she appeared to be yielding to my every whim. Giving me a perfect view of her quim, teasing me with a vision of the feast awaiting me. Her supple body and plush breasts begging for my hands and tongue—fuck.
I thrusted into my hand faster, clenching tighter in a poor imitation of how her cunt might sheathe my length. Precum coated my fingers, making each thrust an easy glide through the tunnel of my hand. Paired with the perfume of her pussy on her underwear shoved into my noseand the picture of her magnificently on display… I wouldn’t last long.
What would happen if I leaned forward, covering her body, and rubbed my tip over her—no. But what if I slipped and fell and my cock slammed inside—fuck, stop. My imagination kept spiraling into lecherous territory. Already caught in an immoral position, I couldn’t seize control of my mind. My impulses were at the helm, chasing gratification.
Her hips tilted, subtly rising, as a dulcet sigh vented from her pouty lips.
An image of my cock slamming into her tight heat as I claimed her mouth flashed behind my eyes. Bliss ripped through my core and white-hot ecstasy coursed through me. My knot and balls tightened, lightning shot down my spine, and—I barely covered my cock with her underwear in time to catch my spend. I gritted my jaw through my climax, rutting into the lace as I exploded.
Heavy pants breached me, chest rapidly rising and muscles releasing their tension. I almost collapsed on top of her. On shaking legs, I straightened up, then tucked my half-hard cock into my trousers.
She fidgeted in her sleep, and my spent cock twitched. I righted her nightgown before another wave of depravity wound me up into something wicked. As my hand hovered along her body, I paused over her inner thigh at the edge of the dress.
No… I shouldn’t mark her with my scent yet.
My eyes cut to the cum-soiled lace in my fist and the expanse of her inner leg.
I shouldn’t.
Chapter 8
Breathe.
I couldn’t breathe.
My soul was screaming, baying, howling from within, and couldn’t claw its way out.
A gasp. A sob. Choking on air in an abominable form that didn’t fit right. Skin stretched over strange bones, flesh dying even as my spirit lived on, and a power stolen—never to return.
Red—like blood, like ichor—so red. Everywhere.
No matter how hard I tried to run, my feet were trapped on the ground. My vision was obscured in a shroud of red, of crimson. It was a dream. I knew it was a dream. Yet I couldn’t get out. I was lost in a sea of dark storm clouds, a violent tide of a consuming tempest crashing all around me. Each cyclone that rose reflected memories of ages past. And in that dreamy hellscape I chased a phantom, the ghost of who I was. Visions danced in the superstorm—sylphs with silvery forms shimmering in the thunderous squall burstingall around me.
And a red light followed me. Stalking me. Hunting me.
Sludge rose over my feet and suctioned around my ankles. A scream from foreign vocal cords ripped up my throat as I sank into the freezing pitch-black void beneath me. Ripped away from the clouds, the sky. I clawed at my chest, my throat, scratching at myself as if my efforts might give me air or freedom. Closer and closer.
I was losing control.
Rising higher and higher, blackness climbing up my legs as I sank and sank. And sank and sank. A current rose, a watery grave of darkness with glittering flecks of distant sylphs who had drowned before me rushing forward. Flying, struggling, through a turbulent tide. Sleek and graceful even in eternal demise. Moon-kissed with the light of eternal universes in their eyes, we were meant to be creatures of the cosmos. Ephemeral stars racing across a midnight sky.
A mighty storm cloud crashed over them, dooming my kin to the hungry stomach of a barraging beast controlled by a wicked man.
Standing within the assaulting downpour, a red mage towered, surging higher like an ominous, rising sun. An omen of my fate. I would die and vanish like the others. We would vanish together, sinking into the depths of a cruel possession. And there, with my head submerged, I heard it calling. In what remained of my soul, the Crimson Mage spoke to me through the haze of my nightmare,vowing, “I will never let you go.”
