I want her. I need her.
My mouth is dry with how intensely I need to have her. I swallow and find Persephone doing the same.
She looks over one shoulder, then the other, then slips out of her chair to the floor, moving closer to the mirror with a sigh.
“No one will enter,” she says softly. “But I do not know?—”
“We do not need to speak of private things between us, my queen.”
A heat from deep within me burns for her. Nothing else matters. I can barely think of anything but her beauty, her softness, her powerful touch, and everything I wish to do to her decadent curves.
Her brow raises, and her pupils darken with her curiosity. Persephone bites her full bottom lip, her teeth digging in. “If we are not scrying to speak, what else is there for us to do?”
“I’ve needed to know if you are well,” I tell her in the same, soft tone. “I can see you are, but much of you is hidden from me.” My cock hardens at the thought of seeing more of her. Of sating her from a distance. I do not know how long it will be until I have her again, but I will make the most of this moment and every vision of her I have.
She nods, solemn yet playful, and the flush on her cheeks deepens. It’s made even warmer by the firelight. I love my queen in the firelight, with the shadows tracing the lines of her nose and her brow and the slope of her shoulders.
“What would you like to see?” she questions innocently. “I want to put your mind at ease.”
“Everything,” I say hoarsely, desperately. “Everything.”
“Hmm.” Persephone folds her legs to the side and reaches for the top of her dress. She pulls it down over her arms, revealing her breasts. Her nipples peaked. Persephone gazes down at them with a sultry look, then leans toward the mirror. “I am well here,” she murmurs, slipping a finger around one of her nipples. “Can you see?”
Yes, I mean to answer, but no sound comes from my parted lips.
“Yes,” I manage to say finally. “Cup them my love. Touch yourself as I would.”
She does, her lips pursed in concentration. The pads of my fingers are on fire. I know how the tender flesh of her nipples would feel if I ran my thumb over them. I know how they would feel if I were to pinch them. I could make her moan. If only I could give her pleasure myself…but this will have to do.
“Pluck one,” I order her gently. With as much desire in my tone as I can offer. “Between your thumb and forefinger. I crave to watch you.”
“Like this?” she asks softly. Obeying beautifully. So beautifully cum leaks from the tip of my cock.
“Yes,” I answer in a dark murmur.
Persephone repeats her motion, then pinches harder, tipping her head back and letting out a sound that is almost a moan.
“Now the other.” I reach for a glass of whiskey and find none, then snap my fingers and allow one to appear. The ice clinks as I pick up the libation and enjoy myself fully with a gulp of the sweet liquor.
“Ooh,” she says, her voice straining to stay quiet.
“Does it hurt?” I question, pausing the theatrics.
“A bit,” she admits. “But?—”
“Does it make you wet?”
“Yes,” she whispers. She adds, her tone lower, “You always do.”
“Do you wish it was me toying with your sweet body instead of your own fingers?”
“Yes,” she says, her voice quivering.
“What about my mouth? Do you wish I could put my mouth on those nipples and lick and suck them until you squirm, my queen?”
“Yes.” Persephone looks up at me from underneath her thick lashes. Her lips part in a tempting way, then close again. “Yes. I do.”
“I can’t see enough of you. Take off your gown.”
