Page 42 of Mortal Desires

That was where she belonged. Naked, soft, pleading, and waiting for me. She was an offering, after all.

I turned to watch her just in time to see a lump going down her dry throat.

“You’ll take me well, little witch,” I rasped in her ear. “I can smell how drenched you are.”

She whimpered, rubbing her thighs together again.

“I wonder how tight you’ll be. If I’m going to push you too far. If you can take my knot for the first time.”

Her eyes moved from the altar. “What’s a knot?”

My smile was slow, as cruel as she accused me of being.

“So many things to teach you. So many ways to corrupt you.”

She trembled in her seat, and we together watched the servants arrange the altar. I stood up on my hooves, extending a hand to Pilar which she took quickly.

Her hand was so small in mine, it shook just a little when she touched my coarse skin.

Lagus looked like he was expecting a speech, but I ignored his gaze. I married Pilar to keep her in the underworld. When I came up with this plan, I never thought torturing her would be so satisfying.

The witch had something about her beyond her innocent eyes. Even as we walked to the altar where she would show the proof she belonged to me, her steps never wavered.

She held her head up, not an ounce of doubt.

What a surprising little witch I had on my hands. My plans were becoming convoluted. I should step back, and yet I wanted to let it all burn.

I liked when the little witch squirmed for me. I liked that she desired me even when she shouldn’t. Over her hate and disdain, she was wet.

I liked the effect she had on me.

I didn’t lie to Cassandra. I never wanted to take a lover because everything about the human experience bored me. The royal court fucked at every feast, the lust circle chosen more than any of the others, and yet I never cared.

It was just this little witch, who I hated so much, that had the power to awaken something primal in me.

When we reached the altar, I nodded. “Go.”

She searched my eyes for a second, before taking her hand from mine and stepping up to the altar. Deliberately slow, she leaned over, her hands plastered to the stone and her ass waiting for me.

Silence and expectation filled the air, my own lust threatening to take over. The need to rut with the little witch intensified.

I scanned the crowd. Their eyes never left us but I dismissed them, looking only at my wife, offering herself to me.

My front brushed her ass when I stepped closer, and I circled my arm around her waist and brought her upright once again. She was so small and tragically human that it didn’t matter what she believed. The top of her head barely reached my chest, I had to curve my back to talk into her ear.

“You’re so small, witch. I’m going to split you in two.”

She breathed, tipping her head up and making her hair caress my chest. “I hope so.”

She smelled like desperation, so needy she forgot to hate me.

I gripped her arm and turned her around. She almost tripped when she tilted her head to look at my eyes.

“You can’t deny anymore,” I growled, my hand closing on her throat, my grip intensifying and bringing her up until she stood on her tiptoes.

“I’ll still hate you tomorrow,” she whispered.

I smirked. “And tomorrow you’ll take my cock again. And then again and again every day after that. I don’t think I’ll ever be done with you.”

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