“Why is that figure… for lack of better wording, crying, Emrys?” I ask inquisitively.
He grins, his razor-sharp canines gleaming. Where my mother would constantly criticize me for my inquiring nature, Emrys embraces it and delights in my numerous questions. With patience, he tells me everything and explains it. In return, I soak in all the information he is willing to offer.
“Because this place used to bask in light magic, darling. Now, it’s overthrown by darkness, inhabited by a dark being; despite my creation to counter the imbalance, I am by no means enlightened. I, too, am a cursed creature, a monster. The statues here weep the blood that is spilled from the Light. The bloodof the White Witches. All of them do it, shedding tears. It’s a fascinating sight, I must admit.”
He gestures to other sculptures in the garden. I notice that little streams of blood flow from their eyes on each of them. A statue of a woman holding a baby is dramatically positioned as if it’s about to fall from her arms; both her and the baby's eyes are bleeding. I see copious amounts of statues now, each one more grand than the last. Some are overgrown, with plants and moss, while others are more visible. All of them have faces that remain in sight, no matter how much plant growth covers every other aspect of their surface, as if the tears must have a passage. I walk toward the one holding her baby. The image is morbid.
“Can I touch it?” I ask, already moving my fingers toward the red liquid.
Emrys shrugs, his hands in his pockets. “It appears to be just blood,” he says, “with no unique taste either.”
I grin; of course, he has tasted it; I probably would, too, if blood were part of my diet. Unconsciously, I touch my breast where, only minutes ago, Emrys fed himself. The vision of his blood-covered canines flushes my cheeks a bright pink, hardening my nipples, and I instantly clench my thighs as heat simmers between my legs. The idea that Emrys can smell my arousal does not help; I need to focus on something else. Distracting myself, I press my finger against the stone's worn exterior, interrupting the flow of tears, the blood now creating a trail on my pale skin. I stare at it, fascinated, as the trail finds its way back to the statue. My finger is an obstacle, a trespass that will not interfere with the cycle.
Emrys stands behind me; he pulls me into his chest, his large hands cupping my breasts. Softly, he starts kneading them.
“No need to guess where your mind wandered off to,” he growls in my ear.
I lean into him, his hand releasing my breasts, following the curves of my body, and then pulling up my dress. Emrys got me beautiful gowns, each one more impressive than the last. Ever since I expressed how much I adore the dresses he has given me and how convenient they are for our entangling, he has made sure I have plenty to choose from. Multiple closets are bulging with the finest fabrics, all for me. The one I’m wearing today is simpler. It’s a soft, black fabric, the skirt reaching my ankles and covered in black lace; the top is simple, with long sleeves clinging to my upper body. The cold seeps into my skin as Emrys exposes my legs by taking off my tights. I shiver as he pushes up the skirt once more, baring my lower body completely to the fresh air. That we will do it outside, in the open, heightens my pleasure. Even if no one can witness us, it’s still exciting. He turns me around, and I press myself against his chest as he slides a finger inside me easily; I whimper with delight as he starts fingering me, and a suctioning sound fills the air. A second finger joins shortly, and I moan lustily. My cunt sucks in his fingers as he hits my sensitive spot with his thumb. Ever since bonding with Emrys, I thirst for sexual gratification; it’s never enough, never satisfying me completely, always wanting more. I need him in a way that I cannot put into words. His mere stare and touch are enough to set me ablaze, drenched for him, my body made for his.
I grind against his fingers, seeking the friction I want for my release. He pulls them out, covered with my slickness, replacing them with what I truly desire.
“You can come on my cock as you should, smear yourself all over me,” he whispers.
He sinks his elongated teeth into my neck as he starts thrusting into me relentlessly, pleasure coursing through my body. His shadows curl around my breasts and nipples. Squeezing and pinching them simultaneously. Another shadowbegins rubbing my clit, as Emrys stimulates my cunt. He lets go of my neck, holding my hips firmly as he takes me harder.
“Fuck, you’re drowning me, darling. You should see yourself, how you’re taking me,” he growls.
“Show me, Emrys, show me how you fuck me,” I whine.
Instantly, the image of Emrys’s cock taking me from behind, entering my soaked entrance, is pushed into my vision. A shadow teases my backside, using my wetness to make the play easier.
“Do it, Emrys, I want all of you,” I mewl.
Slowly, his shadow starts filling my ass as his cock is pounding into my cunt, his other shadows working my clit and my breasts. The sound of our bodies slapping together is obscenely loud in the now-silent garden. I feel overstimulated as multiple orgasms force themselves through my body, my whole being a sensitive mess.
“Can you take a little more, Tempest?” he groans.
“Yes, yes, I can. Let me pleasure you. Fuck my throat. I want to taste your cum,” I cry.
A request he gladly fulfills. He pulls out, and I’m sinking to my knees with a slight tremble. I sit before him, the pebbles on the floor grating against my skin. I open my lips, letting my tongue roam over his large, erect cock, my saliva wetting his slippery shaft. He wraps his hands in my hair, positioning my mouth.
“Wider, Tempest,” he demands in a raspy voice.
I open my mouth, giving him better access, my lips covering his tip, then slowly I move down, relaxing my throat, taking him in. He holds my head steady as he starts moving, first slowly, then faster, harder, and no longer able to contain himself. I start bobbing my head, meeting his rhythm. With one hand, I fondle his balls; with the other, I circle my clit ferociously.
As he starts spurting his cum, I orgasm once more, the salty taste sending me over the edge.
“Fuck, I love seeing you swallow my cum, taking it all. My tempest, never spilling a drop. And you coming as I coat your throat with my seed is such a turn-on,” he sighs contentedly, his chest rising and falling as he pants after releasing himself.
I lick my lips as I get up, my knees slightly bruised from the ground I was kneeling on, but seeing him crumble for me is worth every bit of pain.
“And I love the taste of you. I could swallow your cum endlessly if I could. Fingering myself as I suck you dry.”
He groans.
“Don’t make me hold you to that; the idea is tempting. I already envision you on your knees again, choking as I am fucking your throat. Fuck, that sound is so arousing. Next time, I’ll have my shadows fuck your cunt and ass while I take your mouth.”
I stick out my tongue, the words titillating me.
