Page 25 of Artemysia

“Our shadows crossed paths in a strange twist of fate, and she’s brought me into her light.” - Riev

“I s this what you want? Say it to me, Delphine.” The words drag out of me coarsely, demanding, but I wait, hoping Delphine doesn’t let her practicality get the best of her. Please don’t change your mind.

Maybe she should, though, for her own sake.

She takes a shuddering inhale. The sound goes straight to my engorged cock.

Her warm, heavy breast perfectly fills my palm, and I don’t want to stop.

She’s sitting in my lap, legs sprawled wide with my hand stroking where her thighs meet, and I am going out of my mind imagining pulling her up and sitting her down on my throbbing cock.

She tosses her head back onto my shoulder, her soft hair tickling my nose.

“I…want…you.” She says it in three unsteady breaths, timed with each stroke of my two fingers pressing deeper into her with each word .

Fuck, I didn’t know how much I wanted to hear those words until they came from her, and I will be replaying them in my head for the rest of my days.

It’s like nothing ever before. Before, they were just words uttered from some woman’s lips, words that meant nothing to me because I didn’t care.

I care. I feel. I’ve come back to life out of a darkness I didn’t know I was in or could ever escape. Our shadows crossed paths in a strange twist of fate, and she’s brought me into her light.

Maybe Delphine is only seeking comfort or distraction, but I’ll take whatever she wants from me right now, and hope it’s out of both our systems by tomorrow morning.

How could I ask for more?

She’s unbuttoning the shirt she’s wearing, and seeing her baring her beautiful breasts from under my blue flannel renders me more speechless than I normally am. Not to mention, I’m hard as ever as I stretch her with my fingers.

Greedily, I want her. She’s not going to be out my system by tomorrow morning.

No way.

It’s my undoing, imagining more than my fingers in her, and all I can think is that I need a taste of her right now.

A few more pumps of my fingers, and I withdraw from the tightness of her. Despite how wet she is and how she jerks her hips in protest when I leave her empty, I pry myself out from behind her, placing a pillow against the headboard for her to lean against.

Kneeling over her, I kiss her again. I could kiss her soft, supple lips all day long. She gives back what she takes. Delphine is never passive. She takes what she wants right now, and it’s my breath she steals away when she bites my bottom lip. Sweet surrender.

She’s breathy as her back bows into me, and I kiss down her jaw. When my mouth connects with her tit, nipping at it, she whimpers.

“Am I hurting your shoulder?” I ask, concerned.

She swallows. “No. That’s not where it aches.”

Gods, she’s perfect. I slide lower, kissing around her belly button. Lower still. I need to taste her. I hook my thumbs into her underwear and slide it down her legs. Slow and deliberate .

She watches me, but I can’t read her expression.

She’s used to hiding behind a cool mask of composure, despite the ferocity of emotions and anxieties that live inside her.

Those worries that make her blanch and her lips move as if she’s talking to herself, as she fiddles with the pommel of her sword.

I’m attuned to these signs in her. Why?

Every so often, when I look carefully, she rewards me with a glimpse and I’m left wanting.

She pulls her shins back, bending her knees, and kicks out of her underwear. Once that last barrier of silk is gone, I move back up her legs, dragging my lips against her knees, her inner thigh.

Her hands clasp my shoulders. “Wait. Maybe I should have taken a bath…”

I’ve never been one for perfumes or oils. I want real. I want her as she is.

I reach up and pinch both nipples on her pale breasts all at once as my mouth connects between her legs. She inhales, sharp and sudden, and her protests die out.

She tastes like honeyed, sweet sweat, and it’s as intoxicating as her scent. Undeniably womanly. It’s fucking erotic, and drives me into the most carnal and filthiest of thoughts—all the ways I want to make her come.

She grunts and rocks her hips to my mouth as I lick up her slit.

Fucking delicious.

“Oh gods,” she moans. “That’s good, there.” Her legs drop wider as I bury my face in her. I know what I’m doing, my tongue lapping her clit. She trembles and grips a firm hand into my hair and pulls it loose from the band that holds it back.

All I want is for her to fall apart around me as my head is tongue-fucking her between her writhing legs.

She bites her lip to muffle the noises coming out of her.

I’m not sure why I confessed to her. Even Ivy has no idea I hold out when it comes to sex. Ivy just assumes a man of my age has done it all; I don’t share these kinds of details with her anyway. Sure, I’ve experienced oral sex and played around with how to please others, but…

It’s my choice, and I have my reasons. Maybe one day, I’ll be able to tell Delphine .

But now, maybe because I’ve always been there for someone else’s gratification—I’ve gotten good at giving pleasure, at reading the other person’s unspoken physical desires, at finding everything else that can be done in the bedroom.

Delphine is dripping wet, breaths grunting out of her, and I keep my mouth working her clit as I spread her, pushing two fingers inside.

Her head drops against the headboard, her face an open-mouthed expression of ecstasy as she rides my hand.

“There it is,” I mumble into her. She clamps, vise-like, onto my two fingers while I thrust my hand faster.

She releases with a shuddering groan. I try not to thrust my hips into the bed, or else I’m going to come on myself. Fucking hell. My cock throbs for her.

When she thinks she’s done—little does she know—I slow for a bit and let her catch her breath. Just barely.

I start again, adding another finger to curl into that sensitive spot inside her. A little rougher, a little deeper. A bit softer with my tongue. She tastes so damn good, I don’t want to stop.

After a short while, she comes again with a yelp, her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling to keep my mouth on her clit. It sends a thrill through me, and I melt into her grip.

“That’s my girl. You’re not finished yet,” I mutter, encouraging her to let go. It’s a longer orgasm this time, and her eyes slam shut in pleasure.

She lets out a long, strangled moan, ending on a few silent gasps, because I know she doesn’t want the others to hear us. She exhales deeply, and is done. For now.

There’s nothing I want more than to do it all again with her. It’s always a bit of a high, doling out such moments for others, but never have I enjoyed it more.

It could be the aching hardness of my cock affecting my mind—it’s nearly big enough to rip through my pants at this point—but despite my desire, I fight against reality.

Most likely, we will never make it back out of the woods.

There’s little possibility for even one of us to come out of Artemysia alive, and zero chance both of us will.

So there’s no point in wanting or hoping for anything that resembles a future with her.

Delphine shifts off the headboard and pulls up the quilt. Her face is relaxed, angelic, and I know her mind is no longer racing as it usually does. And I’m a bit proud of myself for being a part of that, when I know her anxious thoughts are a thorn in her side.

I wrap my arms around her as she settles onto her side, and give her one last little kiss on her cheek. “Sweet dreams, Delphine.” Her skin is still flushed rosy pink.

“Call me Elphie,” she whispers without opening her eyes.

“Elphie…” Her name slips coarsely from me as I tighten my grip on her.

Elphie . She unsettles me. She’s strong, honest, caring, even a little too optimistic. Messy, impulsive, stubborn. She wants to save humanity one person at a time, and even as she bumbles through it, she’s certain she can make a difference in the world.

And she is making a difference. She’s amazing.

So there’s no way she could ever fall for someone like me and envision a future.

For women, I’m an object of lust, desirable only because they don’t know me, and in the past, I used them to prove that I could do more than just kill.

That maybe, I was less of a monster if I could offer and give pleasure.

Pleasure, for the sake of proving to myself that I could be human.

I needed proof.

Not because there was care, affection, or love.

But that’s not how it is with Delphine. I’m not looking to prove anything.

There’s care. And affection.

There’s more.

She finds my hand on her forearm and twines her fingers with mine. It scrapes at my heart. I feel like I would leap into a fire for her right now. Not just to save her, but for no reason at all—if only because she wished me to.

Perhaps being burned alive would be less frightening than the feelings coursing through me. The feelings that throw my pulse into an erratic beat in the dark, cold night…

…all over a birthday wish that simply can never be.