Page 63 of Daughter of the Dark Sun
But now Apattar wondered what his soft, lingering touch would feel like. If Therat would stroke her cheek, erase the ugliness she hid from the world. And she wanted to feel him filling her with every inch of his cock, bringing her to such places of bliss she could have never dreamt of before last night.
Therat still slept. Apattar slid her hand over his broad chest, tracing the smooth curve of his muscles as her fingers trailed downwards over his naked form. She gently touched his flaccid cock, a soft stroke followed by another. The pulse of blood under her hand filled the pit of her stomach with a flutter.
“Therat,” Apattar whispered, leaning over and brushing her lips against his ear. “I can’t stop thinking about last night. About you.”
He did not stir, deep in the embrace of sleep. Apattar kept moving her hand in slow, rhythmic motions as she spoke.
“Please, I want you again. Need you again. Only you, this time.”
Hot blood returned to the growing erection under her hand, pulses growing more rapid with each hungering stroke. Therat’s breathing quickened. He stirred, but those light gray eyes did not open.
The desire raging through her body returned with a vengeance, a wildfire burning across her neurons, begging for release. Something wet slid down her inner thigh. Apattar reached a hand between her legs; a warm, thick fluid from her entrance greeted her searching fingers.
How do you do this to me?
Pulling herself on top of Therat, Apattar studied the black bruise blooming around the bite mark on his neck. She wondered if her mark would scar, or the cut from her dagger. The idea of marking Therat as hers brought a strange thrill to Apattar. She’d never truly had anything, or anyone, to call her own before.
Therat’s eyes fluttered open, gaze locking with hers.
“It’s been one day,” he said groggily.
“The sun is not up, and you are still mine.” She reached a shadowy hand up to his neck, pressing against the bruise under his left ear. He winced, but leaned further into her touch.
“Is that so? Eager for worship, Mireithren?” he breathed, blinking the sleep away as he looked at Apattar.
With one fluid motion, Apattar’s mouth found the bruise blossoming on his neck. He groaned, a half-mumbled word escaping from behind those delicious lips. She lowered herself until the tip of Therat’s stiff cock grazed against her wetness. With a moan, his throbbing cock split her open again.
“I would end the world for your worship, Therat,” she gasped into his ear, slowly taking in his length. Pain played on the periphery of her bliss, a tightness easing with each passing second.
Therat’s hands grabbed Apattar and pulled her in close for a tender kiss. They moved in unison, Apattar’s hips rocking back and forth with his and setting a slow rhythm. She craved his gentle touch, how intimate and loving it felt after they devoured each other the night before.
Apattar sat up and bit back a moan as Therat’s cock swelled with each thrust. Her vision blurred, lost in the icy hot throes of pleasure building with each wave. Therat held her by one hip, his free hand running across her skin, over her stomach, her breasts, her back. A soft, warm caress filled with love.
“Come here, my ethereal goddess,” he murmured.
Therat flipped Apattar onto her back with ease before pushing back into her. His eyes raged with fire, but his touch remained tender. He leaned down and placed gentle kisses all across her neck and breasts. Apattar’s breath hitched. A spring coiled inside her, ready to release and end the world again in delirium.
“Don’t stop,” she begged.
“You beg so well,” he whispered. “But you don’t have to.”
Their pace quickened; Apattar could only focus on the intense euphoria building, building, ready to burst and leave a blank space in her mind. Therat’s hand cupped her scarred cheek, the warmth of it sending her over the edge.
“I love you, my Little Siren in the night.”
“I, wh-w—” she stammered before all knowledge of speech left her brain.
The world ended. A wildfire consumed her mind. She was falling. Falling into a pool of warmth, every neuron steeped in bliss. She pulled Therat close, breathing in his musky aroma of burnt wood, old blood, and sweat. She could only think of him, forever by her side. She lingered on the thought, riding the waves of ecstasy.
Therat kept going, his pace erratic, face twisted. He seized for a moment. Apattar felt his release and the fading throbs of his erection. He moved, then kissed Apattar. Her eyes fluttered open; Therat lay by her side now, panting.
“You love me…” she murmured after their breathing calmed at long last.
Therat smiled, one she had never seen before. Wide and toothy, crinkling the skin under his eyes and forming a dimple under his left cheek.
Do I make him that happy? Is this some game of his?
“The sun is up. I can think of no other reason why I would still want to stay with you,” he replied.
