“Look at my pretty, dead pussy.” Lynx’s lips pull into a purely demonic grin before he drags his tongue down my center.
I curl everywhere. My toes. My legs around his shoulders. My fingers into his hair. The pleasure is soul-consuming in every sense of the word.
“Your cunt could kill a lesser man.” He laps at my clit then fucks me with his tongue before going back to kissing the bundle of nerves like I’m a delicate piece of treasure and he’s consumed by greed.
But maybe it’s me who wants too much because it’s not enough.
I want to kiss him. Fuck him. Ride him. Feel his chest against mine, and the slap of his hips, and the rumble of his chest.
“I need you,” I whimper, tugging on his hair to bring him up toward me.
“If you whisper like that, I’ll stop pretending I can resist you.”
He takes his pants off and climbs over me faster than I can process.
I don’t get the chance to think before he’s lining up his cock and thrusting into me. The only thing I can do is scream. Pleasure mixes toxically with pain. This feeling, it’s unholy, and carnal, and every form of sin I’d happily pay for.
He draws his hips out. “Say it again.” Lynx snaps forward so I can all but taste him in the back of my throat.
“I need you,” I cry out, dragging my nails down his back—for more or less, I’m not sure. My eyes are rolling to the back of my head, and my lungs have stopped working. My body stretchesand aches to accommodate his size, but whatever sting of pain there is, it’s smothered by his lips on mine.
He curses, and his next thrust almost ends me. “I’m going to fuck you so good your heart’ll start beating again.”
With every pummel of his hips, the pain recedes until the pleasure becomes too much. Unshed tears burn my eyes, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t stop them from falling. There’s nothing I can do to keep myself from crying out like the sky has opened.
Skin slaps against wet skin. Our ragged breaths twine together between broken kisses. Sweat beads between my breasts, and my pulse roars in my ears. Every one of his grunts and groans sends me higher. I’m a pile of smoke and flesh, crying out the name of a demon who cursed me to an endless existence in the house that haunts me, and it’s the most alive I’ve ever felt.
“Pretty girl, your pussy would kill me if I wasn’t already dead,” Lynx rumbles against my ear. “You have no idea how thin the line is between wanting you and losing my mind.”
I say something—I think I do. Maybe a plea. Maybe a demand.
My pleasure is cresting, and there aren’t any computable thoughts in my mind. A tear trickles down the side of my cheek. I think I scream his name again. Syllables repeat and pour from my tongue, louder as I near the peak that’ll make me see a divine being.
Lynx’s thrusts turn rampant. He’s not just fucking me; he’s rutting into me like a crazed animal that’s broken from the thread that’s been holding him back. It destroys me. Rockets me toward the edge so I’m drowning in bliss.
My core tightens, and everything detonates. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Nothing, whether in this stage of theafterlife or the next could feel this good. I claw at his back, the sheets, his arms—anything my hands can reach—as I scream.
That’s when I hear the roar that shakes the walls. It matches Lynx’s powerful drive, which adds another layer of pleasure to the climax. His lips crash against mine, kissing me like it’s the final piece of this puzzle.
Our lips keep moving together as his thrusts slow until they stop altogether. He twitches inside me, and our combined warmth drips out of me. I’m not sure whether or not it stains the sheets.
Lynx presses his forehead to mine, staring into my eyes through the darkness. The corners of his own are soft—vulnerable. “You’re not allowed to leave. I won’t let you.”
I nod. “Okay,” is all I manage to say as a promise because every time I hear something like that from him, a part of my heart splinters and mends at the same time. But it’s a lie. I can’t promise it. Neither of us can.
And that thought is sobering.
He turns us so we’re both resting on our side then drags the thin white sheet over us even though it hardly does anything to stave off the cold. We lie there, saying nothing, with Lynx rubbing my hair between his fingers, dragging his hand up and down my body. I trace the symbols etched into the skin of his chest. I want to ask what they mean, but I don’t think this is the right moment.
I know I should say something—I just don’t know what. Everything I want to say feels too heavy, but saying nothing seems wrong too.
Something howls in the distance. Based on Lynx’s muttered curse, I assume it’s Tidus. Sighing, he tightens his hold on me for a couple of seconds before moving to sit at the edge of the bed, taking the warmth with him. I try not to let my disappointment show, but I must fail epically if his smug grin is any indication.
He walks to the window, facing away from me to look out at the lake. The contrast between the moonlight and shadows hitting the muscles of his arms and back has me mesmerized.
Each dip of darkness is an ode to the strength I’ve felt beneath my fingertips from the years he spent honing himself into a demonic weapon. I move closer and try to peer at the symbols etched into his back.
The markings circle the center of his upper back like a sundial before radiating outward. The symbols look similar to the ones decorating his pecs and arms, but the one going down his spine has my eyes narrowing.
