Page 86 of Shadows and Flames
I leaned on my hand and knees, hovering over Elián and tracing the tip of his cock around my nipple, leaving wet trails and a lightning crack of pleasure. Perhaps I wasn’t completely selfless, but Elián didn’t stop me. He did not stop me as I moved to the other, nor when I swallowed him again, this time all the way to the root.
“Fuck,” Elián cursed while I breathed only him, and he choked as I constricted my throat around him.
He removed his cock from my mouth with a slick pop, but before I could form the words of protest, he flipped and pulled me up, nestled right into his chest. The scar on my back, where the coldness penetrated deepest, tingled with Elián’s heat, his heart pounding against it.
He pulled my legs open, planting my feet and using his thighs to keep me spread and completely bared before the glass across from the bed.
Really, what kind of creatures put the mirror across from the bed like this?
“I saw how wet you were for me, Meline.” Goddess, I hadn’t—I’d forgotten about the fucking thing while I’d been tending to Elián’s body. Providing him an excellent view from the front and behind of what I was doing. “See how wet you are now,” he growled, softly bumping his nose against the shell of my ear. This attempt at taking care of him tonight was quickly slipping away from me, but at the first swipe of Elián’s fingers, I ceased caring.
His cock was heavy and throbbing behind me, and I begged, wanting to seat myself on him properly, but each time, Elián stopped my protests short. He proved that just as I was quickly learning his body, he was learning mine.
“Watch, Meline. Watch yourself come because of me. How perfectly you fit against me.”
I tried to hide my head in the hollow of his throat, fucking myself on his thick digits while his thumb swirled, but he wasn’t having that. Elián locked my head, facing forward, where I couldn’t hide.
He was truly a shadow behind me, smoldering gaze whispering filth and promise and encouraging me to come apart. Telling me over and over that I belonged with him.
And I made for an obscene sight, bared, slick, and arched as I clambered behind Elián’s lead. Tears streaming down the side of my face as it became too much, too big, but he just licked them up, denying his own release and pushing me toward mine.
Well, until I was right there, kissing the precipice of it, mouth dropped and breath held. Then, Elián pinched both of my nipples so hard that I screamed, writhing and sobbing because of sensation lost but swept under by the suggestion of pain, anyway. My hips pumped uselessly, running to and away from what he’d done to me. Not just plucking my body with a skill that rivaled any expert lute player, but burrowing even further into me. Where my soul would decidedly never feel complete without him.
While the pulsing surges of pleasure beneath my skin weakened, Elián took liberty with my body,again. I sucked in a gasp as I sank into the edge of the bed, and the air punched out of my nose as Elián’s hips filled my vision, my world.
The ornate, frilly thing was the perfect height for him to lean forward, to use the grip on his cock and slap it against my lips. It was all the instruction he gave, but I needed less, licking my lips and opening my mouth for him to plunge inside.
A heavy, hot palm closed around the front of my throat, feeling himself there, and I stopped moving. Bracing myself withfists clenched around Pyrestan fabric, I stared up at my Shadow. My love.
And he thrusted. Mouth and throat relaxed, chin dripping, I again let Elián fuck my face. I’d once told him that I hardly gave others the privilege of this level of submission, but with him,forhim, it was liable to become a regular occurrence. I gagged, but when he let up to give me space, I did not take it. I turned myself over to Elián, let him use my mouth.
He braced his knee on the mattress beside my shoulder, fucking into my throat with intense, long plunges. My mind calmed to a low buzzing, like the lazy chittering of an autumn evening, and like that change in seasons, where Elián’s and my body joined was warm. The rest of me melted further into the bed, skin prickling but too sated to do anything about it.
And when Elián came, it was with my name on his lips and his seed shooting into my stomach, bypassing my tastebuds altogether. But in this submission, I felt powerful. Giving him such pleasure that he could not hold himself from release.
He pulled his softened cock from my mouth, and a long, translucent string stretched between us. Elián wiped the end connecting to him, collecting that remnant of me and him, and gently shoved it all back between my lips. A hint of salt and Elián’s natural musk, I held the taste as long as I could, making it cover every inch and crevice before swallowing it again.
I twisted slowly, righting my vision of the world, and arched my neck. I was about to lightly snip at him for staring at my ass, or trying to suffocate me with his cockagain, but his fingers running over my curls silenced me at once. He did so as if he was in worship. As if what I meant to him transcended anything able to be spoken.
“Do you—” my voice came out ragged “—do you want me to braid your hair?” The action used to soothe me but was unavailable to me now.
He already enjoyed my fingers running through the strands. Would this be something he’d like as well?
Elián paused, fingering a curl beside my ear. No doubt I resembled a baby duck, curls no longer orderly but fluffy and askew. But, my Shadow didn’t seem to mind. The edge of his thumb made one last caress against my skin, and then he pulled away.
I propped on a hip, tracking his movements as he went to one of his packs and rifled through it with neat efficiency, reflecting the orderliness with which I knew he kept his things.
He returned with a small, dark bottle, a comb, and a few leather ties. Elián dropped them beside me, laying out everything I would need, and then he lowered himself. For me. He sat against the bed, facing the night and ever-present waterfalls that swallowed the sounds of our pleasure earlier.
Now, I ran a hand over Elián’s hair supplies, a far simpler regimen than mine, and selected the comb first. He waited patiently, chest rising and falling in a calm, steady rhythm. Where I came from, one’s hair was a… deeply personal thing. Something to express yourself, to display your status and vitality, but also something truly shared with only those you were close with. How often had I sat like he was now, listening to my mother’s stories of her childhood, crying to her about what worried my innocent mind, or laughing with her about whatever we fancied that day?
Or when I was able to get Tana to sit still long enough to tame her buttercream curls, caring for my younger cousin in a way that seemed outside of time itself?
I started at the bottom of Elián’s hair, where it reached just past the middle of his back. About as long as mine used to be. The comb was wooden, plain, and I wielded it deftly as I slowly worked out the tangles and knots.
“What did you see for your future when you were a child?” Elián’s question wasn’t in contrast with the hypnotic task of combing his hair. It was natural, complementary.
There was a larger snag against the comb, and I set it aside to tease it loose with my fingernails. I used the tactile sense to work my way through it. “I suppose…something akin to what my mother did. Not High Priestess, but the responsibilities of the kingdom. The traveling. The throne was never supposed to be mine, but I expected to always be in its proximity.” Did Versillia still stand, now? Had the Lylithan Council dismantled upon my brother and uncle’s deaths? “What about you?”
