Page 50 of The Librarian of Souls
My sands tremble at the sight of her, the scent of the bath swallowing up her own. I stand in the doorway, limbs stiff and sands slipping from my being. They crawl to the visage of my mate. I had once thought to remove the claw-footed tub because I find using the shower simpler. I do not wish to laze about in steaming water, but seeing Joanna’s back as she rests against the edge, her hair pulled up to expose her neck and the bond mark on her skin, makes me wish we had done this every night.
The tiling in this room is a dark Victorian green metro-style, the fixtures golden brass, and the tub is stark white meant to draw the eye away from the walk-in shower. But my eyes only see her and the golden aura that flows from her body in lush curving arches. The scent of lavender and honey overwhelms the senses as much as my decor choice, and I cannot stop staring at my queen. I feel transported to a time when I barely knew how to control this form. My sands riot inside me until I am a husk, watching them slither over the edge of the tub to caress warm skin. I crave every moment of peace and joy I can give her. I want to feast upon her only to fill her again so viciously with every hope and desire she has ever had that we are lost to a never-ending cycle of each other.
Finally, she turns to me. The sad expression that dulls her face twists into shock and concern and I remember that I am covered in blood that is obviously not my own.
“I had to help Kragnash with something.” The lie slips from my lips just like my sands and something inside of me sinks. “What are you doing awake,mon abeille?”
“Couldn’t sleep without you,” she hums, her eyes tracing me as I strip down. I will dispose of the clothes in the morning. “Feeling you near me reminds me I’m not alone.”
The shower is too loud in the space of the bathroom, and the water is cold when I step under the spray, but I rush to scrub every trace of those foul things off of me. Cleansed so I may be deserving of the hunger I see growing in Joanna’s aura as she watches me. My body is created the way I desire it, the fibres connecting as I see fit, but knowing she craves all my forms makes my thoughts turn to darker delights. My hands glide through the soap on my skin, the steam from the shower creeping up the glass panes to obscure her view of me. She makes a petulant little noise when I stroke my cock.
“Do you wish for a show,mon abeille?”
“If the Lady of The Ravens feels so inclined.” Amusement drips from her tone like lemonade, sweetened by the hunger in her gaze. She is forgetting her worries about work, she is letting go and letting herself be who she wishes to be. The slight inkling of concern is still there, pressing into the back of my skull, but I will do anything to erase it.
“They do,” I grin, but I do not stop stroking my cock. My talons toy with the quills on the underside. This was never the type of show I participated in all my years of dancing, but performing for her makes my sands come alight, buzzing under my skin with ecstasy.
“Augustine,” Joanna whimpers my name, and her hunger seeps into me, filling and fuelling me.
I stare at her through the fog, a blurry blush of a being lined in gold and stained with tendrils of black wrapped around her throat and the peaks of her breasts. She leans out of the tub to get a closer look, to let my sands play with her, to reach for me. I do not wish to look away from her, but my eyes flick to the drain beneath me. The water has run clear and a cursory brush of my other hand through my hair remains clean. I turn off the shower and the only sounds now aremon abeille’sheavy pants mixing with mine.
“Another time, I shall give a proper show,” I say, moving towards her, a talon-tipped finger moving her chin up before she can lick at my cock. “This performance is just for you,mon abeille.”
She swallows and the sands around her throat move delicately with the motion. I pull her back with them until she rests against the high back of the bath. Her hands move to touch me and I allow it this time. Her fist grips my cock and my quills thicken with my arousal, trying to fill out the space of her hand. I step into the bath slowly, letting out my beast; lips stretching, spines rattling, and body growing. Water sloshes out of the way, but it does not matter.
My sands move Joanna’s hands away from me and pin them to the edges of the tub, her chest exposed to the humid air while my knees bracket her legs and keep them clamped shut. I feel her thigh tense under the water, the subtle squirm I have seen her do before.
“Let me perform for you, and this time you may decide if I am deserving of your favour, my queen.”
Joanna is bright red in her blush which is not from the heat of the water. The strong scent of the bath oils is overwhelmed by her honeyed arousal and I let my sands go a little farther, trail up to her supple mouth to tease her lips. That is all I will allow for now, even as her tongue lathes against trembling sands.
Even without music, my body rolls to a rhythm as old as time. Rushes of memories in palaces, in temples, in hidden drawing rooms come to me as I display my dripping wet body for my mate, letting my arousal bleed from my every pore. I play with myself, teasing pleasure from my nipples until they ache as I watch my mate get lost in my being.
“Tell me your thoughts,mon abeille. Do you think you could command me?” I taunt her as my hard cock bobs just above the surface of the water. My quills leak precum and each time the head dips beneath the surface, it sends a shiver through my body.
“You are so beautiful,” she moans. Her eyes follow the trail of black veins under my skin to my cock. “I feel so hot.”
“Should we stop?” I stop moving, letting my hands fall to her warm skin. She does not feel feverish, but I do not wish to risk her feeling unwell from being in the bath too long.
“No,” she pleads. “No, god, if you stop I might explode. I want the show I was promised.”
A proud and victorious smile spreads across my lips to reveal my sharp teeth. “As you wish, my queen.”
Joanna’s breath stutters as I lean over her body and thrust into the water between us. I am careful not to touch her, but my talons dig into the lip of the bath. My breath teases her lips, and her mouth falls open in want. Her thighs tense between my knees as she squirms.
“Is there something you desire?” I moan into her ear.
“You.”
“You already have me,mon abeille.” My teeth graze the shell of her ear this time and my cock aches with each roll of my hips into the water. More of it splashes over the edge and more of Joanna is exposed to the air. My gaze drops to her heaving chest, the dusty colour of her nipples teasing me by simply existing. I recall her words to me the night we finished the bond. “Is this how a queen demands worship?”
“Oh.”
She shudders at my retreat, but there is a new fire in her. A burning sweetness that coats my tongue and has my jaw slackening. My hands traverse the muscles and dips of my body as I watch her subtle transformation, the wildness almost changing her hazel eyes.
“Tease your nipples again,” she commands, her firm voice washing over me with a sense of delirium I have not felt before. Joanna moans when I do as she says, but I let my sands mimic me. They reach for her nipples and pinch the sensitive flesh in a way that I know makes her weak. She does not close her eyes. They stay locked with mine as if seeing who will win in this duel of pleasure. Her hips try to roll up between my legs, but my hold remains firm around her. I wonder if my wondrous mate could cum just like this?
“Do I please you?” I moan, the hard beads of my nipples ache and my quills are pulsating around my cock.
