My body is an inferno, burning solely for her.
And though she is conquered,Iam the one who ends up begging.
“You must command me to stop,” I rasp, rutting her into the blankets. My voice cracks.
“I can’t,” she whispers, just as broken. “It feels so good. Like paradise. More, oh moons, more. I’ve never… I’ve never…”
Her eyes become glassy.
And then she comes again, crying out as her body seizes around me.
How many is that?I’ve lost count.
But she pulls me under with her—dragging me into her storm.
My body jerks, and I spill yet another load into the space that refuses to release me.
“Sire, Sallie Rose. I’m sorry to interrupt….”
There’s a voice beyond the never-ending ocean of desire crashing between my ears.
I look up to find my Door Gravel standing near the basin, her back respectfully turned.
Her wings are folded tight, fully retracted—so even Sallie Rose, with her weak human eyes, can recognize her.
“Rinthiah?” Sallie Rose murmurs beneath me. “What are you doing here?”
“The suns will return in only a couple ticks of the moons,” she answers gently. “Of course, I would never instruct our Sovereign, but I thought he might wish you to have another bath, given tonight’s…”
She pauses, obviously searching for a diplomatic word. “…many activities.”
She is only a Door Gravel, but shame, sharp and stark, cuts through the haze of obsession I allowed to overtake me.
“You are correct.”
I pull out of my obsession with a wet, obscene sound, and this time, I dim my eye-glow and keep my gaze averted. I do not allow myself to look at the glistening mess of her sex. I will not let myself see anything that might inflame me again.
I wrap her in a blanket. Not for warmth. For mercy, as a ward against my own madness.
By the time I finish, she has already fallen asleep, her face slack with a trust I do not deserve. Especially from her.
I have to swallow hard before I manage to say to my discreet servant, “Thank you for intervening.”
Rinthiah jolts at my words.
Gratitude is not something I’m in the habit of expressing… well, ever.
“So good,” Sallie Rose murmurs from inside the blanket. “I’m so glad I didn’t die a virgin.”
That line—knowing I fulfilled herdyingwish—it drowns the fire inside me.
Completely.
I grit my jaw and grab my sword from its holder beside my throne. “Make sure she’s bathed.”
Then, thanking the moons I never removed my loincloth, I take my leave.
I put as much distance as I can between myself and the bride I will be required to sacrifice at the next moonsrise.
