She pushes me onto my back and swings a leg over my head and straddles my face before I can answer, pressing her wet, furry folds to mymouth. The smell of her is so human and intoxicating. “Lick me,” she commands.
And I obey. My tongue confidently parts her to find her clit, and she moans as I circle it. I try to lick up everything while my cock throbs, neglected.
Her thighs clamp around my head as she rocks harder, while my tongue flicks her clit faster and she cries out, pulling my hair. “That’s it. You punished me for something similar once. Don’t you fucking stop.”
My cock jerks untouched, but I moan into her sex, devouring her words, and the vibration makes her shudder.
She grinds harder, chasing her own pleasure, using me until she convulses with a sob, coming against my tongue. Then she slides down my chest, smearing her wetness over me until she straddles my cock. She drags her slit along the shaft, coating me, making me throb harder but never letting me inside.
It’s agony.
“Please let me inside you.”
Her brown eyes blaze with the power I’ve given her. “You denied me. Repeatedly. Now you’ll taste the same disappointment.”
She grinds along my length, over the head, down the shaft, back up again.
I cry out at the friction, every nerve on fire, balls tight and aching.
“Beg harder.”
“I’m yours,” I say. “Please—please, Eve, I can’t?—”
She slaps the head of my cock, hard.
I flinch from the pain and groan.
She lowers herself back onto my mouth, and I can barely breathe, butI lick her like she owns me. Then she rides me until she comes again, her cries filling the shrine like a prayer to the goddesses.
When she moves off my face, I roll onto my knees and beg her, “Please, I need to come.”
“Beg harder.” She strokes my hair. “This is the cage you designed. I decide when it opens.”
And then this delicious pattern repeats. Us taking turns hurting one another. It’s all a blur of incense and holographic goddesses and it will end when Rafe returns.
Three weeks of unlimited shrine sessions. Three weeks of bruises, come, and confessions.
Magnificent.
60
THE IMPOSSIBLE CHOICE, RAFE
My ship docks,and I'm already running into the Spire before the seal to the door even finishes cycling. Three weeks. Three weeks of legal maneuvering, calling in every favor, and exhausting every connection to save our business and try to do the right things. Three weeks of not being able to monitor what Eve and Lorian were up to in the shrine because Lorian blocked everyone, including me.
But Dr. Veil sent me the medical reports of the aftermath while I was away: neural scarring, physical trauma, and psychological damage. What Lorian calls ‘transcendence,’ and what Dr. Veil called near-death experiences. Multiple times.
Fucking Lorian.
I hate that I have to check that they even left the shrine when I docked, but at least they were good enough to give me that courtesy.
I enter our suite, and the sight of Lorian stops me cold. He's thinner, his grey skin dull, and there are fresh whip marks visible through his open shirt.
"Where is she?" My voice comes out raw.
"Having a shower." He goes back to the scattered documents on the computer. "Seventeen trainers filed grievances this week, the IGC tried to add another year to her sentence, and our stock has now dropped forty percent."
"I know." I move to the bar, my hands shaking as I pour. "I've been dealing with it for three weeks while you've been?—"
