Page 73 of The Pirate Queen of Ruin
She takes a calming breath, her mouth parting enough for me to see how the suckers on her tongue click against her teeth as she looks down at me. Her eyes dart to the crew around us, everyone lost in lust, and a smirk forms on her lips.
“Can’t have that, can we, wife?”
“No we can’t, Captain.”
With a final look, one that fills in all the gaps, one that says ‘if it’s too much tell me’ and ‘trust me’ all at once, she presses in. The tip sinks into my pussy slowly and both of us gasp, the stretch and fullness sends jolts of pleasure down to my toes until it feels like my soul is threatening to vibrate out of my feet. Orthia grabs onto my hips and drives forward in a full thrust.
“Motherfuck-“ Her words are cut off. She throws her head back and groans loudly. “Love’s sake, they are sucking on my clit too.”
She eases out of my pussy and slowly fucks the bundle of tentacles into me. This time every sucker latches onto my walls, teasing out every ounce of pleasure my body has to offer her. It tugs at my g-spot, pushing me closer to seeing those pink shards of light. She keeps this slow pace, letting me adjust and building into the motion until her hips slap against mine so loudly, messily that it’s all I can hear.
It’s perfect.
This is what she needs, I can see it on her face. Giving me pleasure, keeping me satisfied is enough for her to do this act, but knowing she is receiving the pleasure she deserves from fucking me, sends me higher. It connects every part of sex between us to pleasure, keeps us anchored in the moment. Her breasts shake, nipples hard peaks, and I am desperate to have them in my mouth again.
“Perfect,” she moans. “Let me worship you, wife, let me be yours.”
“Forever,” I nod.
Orthia gazes at my body. Her eyes can’t focus on one spot. They go from my face to my slack mouth, to my heaving chest that aches to be touched again, to where her tentacles are sucking every bit of slick from my pussy. She sees the way my body moves with her thrusts and she fucks me harder, pushing us until we are screaming for release.
“A goddess, my goddess,” she pants, falling over me with one arm to catch herself. She kisses my cheek, my jaw, my throat, never missing a beat in her thrusts. Pleasure and warmth crash into me over and over again like waves against a cliff and I am so close to crumbling.
“I want you to come for me, Delphini. Be my good little wife.” Her teeth grit together like she is holding back and the flush on her cheeks travels down her neck.
“Come with me,” I whimper. “Together, please.”
“Forever,” Orthia says.
Her grip on my thigh tense, as a tentacle slips from her stomach and moves to my clit. The sucker attaches to my clit and the world explodes. I scream through my climax, the over stimulation, the long denied release—it all rushes through me. My pussy clenches around the tentacles inside me and pink shards of light burst in my vision. Everything goes quiet inside of me, like I have reached a state of bliss I didn’t even know was possible.
The only thing I can feel is the weight of my soulmate.
Her body lays on top of mine, heaving and stuttering. Sweat, arousal, tears, we are covered in each other and I never want to wash it away. Orthia’s fingers glide over the curves of me with ease until she holds my face in her hands.
“I am so proud of you, myomphalos. I am so grateful for you,” she breathes, pressing soft kisses to my lips between words. “Thank you.”
“You are my everything.” I tell her, because it’s true.
She is all I have and all I want in this world.
Chapter twenty-five
Orthia
30 Days
Idon’tlikethis.Not one single thing about this evening seems real. I pull at the sleeve of this stupid jacket Delphini has wrapped me up in for this outing. This is firmly the last time I ever allow her to dress me up like a toy doll.
“Do not act so put out, our heart,”Love soothes, phantom tentacle slipping from me to her.
I can’t help but smile in a sort of agreement. They are right, she can dress me and parade me around so long as she is by my side, giving me the same heated look she is now.
“Does it make it better knowing I’m soaking my panties seeing you in black tie?” she asks.
Myomphalosis a vision in this shade of pink. The colour burns the eyes and yet she looks softly divine. Nargol has braided her hair in long, thin strands that reach her waist. The pink in those shimmers and matches her glossed lips. Delphini is a goddess looking down upon us common monsters.
I grunt in response and adjust the black silk around my throat, making sure the knot at the side will not come undone. She sighs, recrossing her legs as the car she hired for the evening drives us back to the Harbour Crest Yacht Club. I have become far too familiar with that building.
