Page 69 of Jailer to the Death God
“As you wish, my god,” I whisper, and I slip him inside.
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As the Queen sinks onto me, a rush of sensation flows along my length, exquisite, mind-melting.
The physical stimulation steals my breath, but more glorious is the deep security of beinginside her.
Her, fragile with sorrow, yet resilient as dawn.
Survivor of plague, summoner of death, with her fierce determination and her unquenchable hope and her sly smiles, always tinged with guilt because she thinks she should not be happy while her people suffer.
Her, sacrificial and sweet. Tortured and trapped, as I am.
She ensnared me, but she sees me, too—understands me in a way no human ever has.
That is what makes being inside her so acutely beautiful.
I feel no cold chains—it’s as if they never existed at all.
Yet despite the relief, I need more—need to be deeper inside her, need to know that I’m connected to her more intrinsically. Why, why, do I crave that link between us so ferociously?
I sit up abruptly and swing the Queen over onto her back in one swift movement, keeping my cock gloved in her heat. I’ve witnessed the motions of sex—never understood it before, beyond the simple necessity of friction to achieve the desired result—but a primal impulse sears through me now, galvanizing my muscles into a relentless rhythm.
My forearms brace me while my hips drive hard and fast. The Queen lies beneath me, her soft breasts bouncing as I rut into her. Her legs are curled on either side of my waist. Flushed and starry-eyed, she gazes at me while I take her.
“Stop being so beautiful,” she whispers.
I halt my convulsive rhythm, slide out of her and back in slowly, delighting in the way she gasps and her eyes roll up. I repeat the movement, and this time I lower my face to hers, kissing her deeply.
Vale presses her fingers to her clit. “More, Arawn, please,” she whimpers.
“You beg so sweetly.” I nuzzle against her cheek, then resume my rhythm, a low moan rippling through my throat. My cock is swelling, thrilling, my abdomen tightening, my balls lifting, I… I’m… fuck, fuck…
She vents a tiny, shrill squeal, one I suspect would be far louder if we weren’t at the inn—and her slick, velvety inner walls compress around my cock, over and over. I choke out a gasp, startled by the extra stimulation—and a keen arrow of acute pleasure spears along my length, piercing my belly, exploding into a flood of bliss through my body. My release pumps into Vale’s womb, a hot flood of divine seed.
I panic for a moment, even in the throes of the ecstasy, because I did not consider the possibility of a child resulting from this. Curse my foolishness. I’m no better than the other pleasure-addled gods. They fuck whom they like and take what they want, with no thought of consequences.
It’s too late now. So I remain buried inside the little Queen until my dick has ceased throbbing. She’s panting, flushed, dazzled.
“Gods, that was good,” she breathes. “I needed that.”
Grimly I pull out of her, cursing myself when I see the pearly evidence of my release beading at her entrance.
“What is it?” She frowns. “Did you—was it not good for you?”
“I was a fool. I emptied myself in you, not thinking that a child is the last thing you need right now. You have enough to consider without adding my half-divine spawn into your life.” I sit on the end of the bed, rubbing my forehead. “I would beg your forgiveness, but I fear an apology is not enough.”
“Arawn.” She crawls to me, pressing her warm breasts against my bare back. “I take a daily tonic to prevent pregnancy.”
“Will it work on a god’s seed?”
“It suppresses the cycles of my body, so it should still work. And if not, there are things I could do if I truly didn’t want your child. Which… I think I would. Want it, I mean. So don’t let that worry steal your pleasure. I put my worries aside for this, and I expect you to do the same.” She squeezes my shoulder. “Did you enjoy yourself a little?”
“Vastly,” I reply, yielding to the pressure of her body. After a pause I venture, “And this was a simple act of lust, a carnal moment between two beings, nothing more?”
Fuck, I wish I had spoken that sentence firmly, as a statement, instead of letting my voice tilt upward at the end.
Vale keeps rubbing my shoulder. “What you said,” she murmurs at last. “Is that how you really feel? About me?”
