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Memnon, I chide, my fingers brushing against the panther tattoo that crawls up his neck.

He grins against my skin.I’m kidding. Mostly.

With that, he presses a kiss to my pussy.

Such a good wife, he praises.So good. So obedient?—

“You’re about to get a foot in your face.”

He laughs against me.Fine, he concedes,rarely obedient. Highly vicious.

My magic slips out of me then, dragging Memnon’s body up and his pants down.

I lean into him, his hard cock trapped between us. “I want more than your mouth,” I whisper against his lips.

His eyes burn as he lifts my leg. In one quick thrust, he spears himself inside me.

I cry out at the sudden intrusion, not expecting my demands to be met so quickly. I breathe through the intense stretching of my core, the fullness edging on pain before tipping into pleasure.

Memnon gathers me to him and leans his forehead against mine, rolling his hips. “Fuck, little witch,” he groans, “you feel like sin.”

Memnon stays there, locked inside me while he wraps one of my legs, then the other, around his waist.

Even once he begins to move, his strokes are short and teasing as he lifts and carries me. It’s only as I catch sight of the stained altar that I understand what he intends.

“Memnon,” I say, alarmed as he lays me out against the cold marble. My diadem tumbles from my head, hitting the marble altar before clattering to the ground.

Memnon pulls out of me entirely so he can, using his hands and magic, flip me onto my stomach, leaving my upper body draped across the cold altar while the bottom of my torso hangs off it.

He leans over me. “Yes?” he whispers against my ear, nipping at it.

I breathe in sharply. “We cannot do this—not on the altar.”

“Why not?” he asks, grabbing my hips and lifting them.

Even if these Roman gods are not our own… “This is a holy place.”

“Yes,” Memnon agrees. “And this is a holy act too.” He punctuates the thought by thrusting back into me from behind. I moan, scrambling to grip the sides of the altar.

Relentlessly he drives himself into me, his thrusts now hard and deep, his cock hitting that elusive spot within me again and again and again. His magic comes out to play, teasing the sensitive flesh between my folds, and it’s too much, far, far too much?—

Memnon pauses, then wraps a hand around my neck. Leaning forward, he says softly, “You’re not going to come—not yet.” He begins moving his hips again, slowly at first, just enough to tease.

“Memnon,” I plead around his hand on my throat.

“If you can’t be obedient, then I will give this neck a squeeze.”

He wants me to beobedient? I would laugh if I could.

Instead, I release a little of my own magic, letting it stroke Memnon from the underside of his cock to his heavy balls and beyond.

He groans against me, his grip on my hip and my neck tightening. “Roxi…”

“Roxilana,” I correct with a gasp. I intensify my power’s ministrations on his sensitive skin.

Memnon’s thrusts become erratic, and I moan as he hits that spot inside me again.

“Yes, Memnon…” I praise him. Gods, he feels unreal.