Page 10 of An Intimate Excerpt from the Diary of Our Lady

Leaning on his arm, Orcus shifted toward me, his weight depressing the mattress, so I rolled toward him. The heat of his skin radiated through my dress, permeating my body and warming me through.

With aching tenderness, he reached up and brushed the hairs off the side of my face. The candles flickered outside of the canopy, but the curtain shielded us from much of their light. At first, I thought that was the only reason the room seemed dark, but as I watched, tendrils of smoke raised from Orcus's shoulders, it surrounded him, a miasma—no, a halo of darkness that stretched toward me with grasping fingers. Though I couldn't see Orcus's face, shrouded as it was, the tendrils reached for me, greedy. I felt hot all over, my skin sensitized to bed sheets beneath, and the singular placehe touched me.

"I'm going to restrain you now," he spoke barely above a whisper, so I had to strain to hear him. "This will be your first lesson, Aviana."

The slightest touch of his tendrils ghosted over my wrists. "You are mine." The tentacles of darkness solidified, wrapping and lifting my wrists above my head." Everything you have will be because I gave it to you. Every sensation you feel, every sound, every cry you release belongs to me. Your first lesson, princess, is what it feels like to lack agency. When it comes down to it, your pleasure, your frustration, your very power are mine. When you well and truly learn that, perhaps we can move on."

Chapter nine

IN WHICH EXPECTATIONS ARE FURTHER SUBVERTED DURING THE FIRST SESSION

Inoddedmyhead,shockedat how easily my submission came. For more than a millennium, I have lived only to please myself, my creation consuming me in my efforts to make it as perfect as possible. I am, after all, a storyteller at my core, and I demand perfection from both myself and my creations. Testing my bonds, I jiggle my wrists. There is a small amount of give there, but only enough that I feel no pain. My brows draw down in a frown and I squint up to see Orcus's face, but still, he hides from me.

"What is it, princess?" he whispers, his words cascading over me in a wave of warmth.

"I expected something different."

"I imagine so," I can hear the smirk in his voice rather than see it. "But you've never really known what to expect from me, have you?"

He shifts, depressing the bed so that I roll toward him. "When you created me, I think you got more than you bargained for. Such is the problem with such instinctual acts of creation. That's been our problem from the start. Yes, mine too."

I raised a brow at his statement. How was it his problem? He’d not done anything but what I’d expected of him.

"You willed things into being without any real idea of what you'd made. Take me, for example," he continued.

A tendril held my head firm so I stared at the ceiling, but I could feel his breath caressing the skin of my neck as he spoke.

"Did you know that you created me to be obsessed with you? To do everything in my power to please you, to give you the story you so desperately wished for? Do you think it was a mistake, for example, that in all of our battles, I only ever won once, even though every time you felt as if you were on the verge of defeat?"

His hand—or his tentacle, I had no way of knowing which, lifted and twined around a strand of my hair. "Did you intend to makesomeone who knew you so completely that he could anticipate your every move? Orchestrate complex battles to give you an epic win? To mature, for example, just the slightest bit faster than you so you wouldn't need to learn these lessons on your own?

"Don't you see, princess, in making your perfect enemy, you've made me your perfect jailor, your perfect teacher, and ultimately, your perfect partner? You've been the light to my days for centuries, but it's well past time I show you the darkness you've wrought."

With that, a tendril wrapped itself over my eyes and I was plunged into darkness. My heart beat erratically, blood rushing through my veins. Again, the bed shifted, and I felt the absence of his heat. Without my sight, every place he touched me was enhanced. The pair of tendrils that wrapped my hands now seemed to pulse in time with the one covering my eyes.

I breathed deep, steeling myself for whatever came next. He left me there for a long time until my ears were picking up the slightest rustle and my skin was practically aching from trying tofeelsomething. By the time he did touch me, I was so sensitized that I gasped at the smallest brush. It was the briefest touch, only a whisper on my ankle, and yetit lit me up.

The next touch was a long, tickling glide down my arm, stopping level with my head. Orcus hadn't jostled the bed in quite some time, so I assumed that he could manipulate his tendrils from a distance.

He touched me all over, my legs, my hands, my toes, my neck, my knee, my shoulder, my stomach. Each one gently stoked a fire I couldn't say I'd ever felt. I knew that mortals felt desire. They required it to procreate. But because I'd never needed that, never seen anyone as my equal, I'd never felt the slightest bit of attraction prior to what I felt then.

After a while, my breath grew ragged, and I bowed off the bed, searching for sensation that came far too irregularly. A brief whisper on my neck, a slow, sensual drag underneath my breast. I was gasping for air, mentally begging him to touch me more. I craved his touch in ways I had never craved anything before.

I'd never wanted for anything, neverneededanything at all. For the first time ever, I needed something.

His touch.

Between my legs, my pussy tingled with excitement. Each bow off the bed squeezed my legs together and brought delicious pressure. My body thrummed with wanting, to hear his voice, to feel further touches, but each was justas fleeting as the past. Each one taunted me with its ephemeral bliss until I writhed on the bed, tears gathering at the corner of my eyes. Thick tentacles wrapped around my legs, and I moaned at his touch.

It wasn't enough. It wasn't what I wanted, but it was more than he'd given me before. Sobs burst from me, punctuating the air with my cries.

"I think that's enough for now." Orcus's voice was raw, as if he was the one who'd cried out. "Sleep, Aviana."

At first I was shocked, confused by his words and the touches that ceased. Though I felt his weight leave the bed, and a blanket was drawn up over my body, his tendrils on my wrists didn't release me, though they relaxed. "Orcus?"

"Sleep." The door clicked shut.

"Aaaaagh! That blasted man! Orcus! Get back here and... well, I'm not quite—well, you see, I—Damn you!"