Page 44

44

Merry

The Stars are out. One of them gleams with hope, the other blazing with heat. Neither is perfect. That’s why she trusts the vision.

Exhilarated, Merry sprints down the lane, its border trimmed in sizzling sparklers. Tomorrow, their crew will reconvene on the hill, this time with her allies from the city. Until then, this arena is blessedly vacant. It’s theirs to revel within, a realm of their own, where darkness and lightness converge.

The Stars glitter like diamonds. Dormant rides glow with moody, phosphorescent jewel tones.

The pounding of boots resounds from nearby. Beyond the path hedges, a shadow vaults across the ledge of an idle rocket ship ride that usually swings back and forth like a pendulum when animated to life.

Anticipation tingles her spine. He’s close, gaining on her quickly.

The breeze rushes through Merry’s hair. She could rig this chase and retrieve her motorcycle, which is parked by the carousel. But then, she doesn’t need the vehicle to outpace him. Wheels or not, she has always been a mistress of speed.

From the Enneagram Maze to the Ethereal Arcade, Merry blows across the narrow avenues. She swerves around a corner just as his silhouette cuts off her trajectory. Yelping, she veers and hastens down an adjacent channel, then charges through the ferris wheel’s lower webbed spokes, hurtling to the other side.

At one point, Merry hops in place and rips off her boots. Then she keeps running, plowing through the carnival on sheer stockinged feet. Her lavender dress billows like a sail, and her chandelier earrings jingle like wind chimes, neither doing her favors to remain conspicuous.

Giddy, she leaps onto the Constellation Carousel. They never designated a location, but this is a place where they share a memory.

Casting about, Merry sets a finger to her lips. “Shhh.”

In response, the bulbs dim. Instead of flickering, their mellow glint blends with the moonlit shadows. Mostly, she favors bright illuminations, either from the constellations or fixtures or neon art. But with a few hours left until dawn, she wants to savor the ambience, letting The Stars shine their brightest.

The whirligig is quiet. Intentionally so.

He’s here.

Heart drumming, Merry shuffles backward. She presses her grinning mouth closed, muffling her rapid pants while weaving through the ride. It’s less of a retreat and more of an enticement, persuading him to stalk her in circles. To the left, a figment sweeps by as swiftly as a winged creature. From another area, the floor creaks like a warning.

As she circulates the platform, Merry bids a silent request. The Stars respond, music swirling from the ride’s speakers, playing a song with an electronic beat. It’s sultry but vibrant like a chemical reaction, something generated from alchemy.

Stretching out her arms, she brushes the bars to maintain balance. The overhead mirrors reflect her silhouette threading past Pisces and Gemini. She scans the glass, a male outline prowling around the bend, then vanishing.

She stalls, debating whether to reverse direction in case he’s done the same. Whipping around, Merry sidles the way she originally came. While slipping through Capricorn and Libra, her foot inches back, then hits a barricade. An object halts Merry’s retreat, her unshod heel meeting the hard shell of his boot.

Air slices through her teeth. A nervous thrill slides across her flesh.

Notes of black pepper and bergamot drizzle into her senses. Then a solid body presses flush against Merry, his fingers strapping around hers, affixing them to the bars. It’s enough to liquify her insides, the cleft between her legs pooling.

Stubble grazes her ear. “Brilliant goddess.”

“Burning god,” she gusts out.

His mouth tilts at the nickname, one she hadn’t thought of before. Yet it suits him. He’s a star blazing in the sky, a figure who descended from the sun, then melted his wings to protect the ones he loves. His intention in the vault had been clear, though she’s still mad at him for that. This obstinate male could have died, taking this heat from her.

Merry twists to glimpse him over her shoulder. Backdropped by gilded lights, a feral look darkens his face, which is riddled with lacerations from the fall.

“Never do that again,” she threatens, nipping his lower lip as punishment.

Anger draws in a sharp breath. “As you wish,” he murmurs against her mouth. “Only for you will I burn to cinders.”

“Is that a promise?”

With a shake of his head, he groans, “It’s a fucking vow.”

Then he seizes her gasp with his mouth, prying her open, tasting her response. Embers fire up her thighs. Her lips spread, allowing his tongue to spear inside, flexing with her own.

All the while, his answer sweeps through her. A vow. Like soulmates.

Hers. All hers.

On a moan, her lips clutch his own, taking every hot stroke of Anger’s tongue. He kisses strong, hard, deep. Not tender as she once idealized, but raw, furious, and desperately passionate. That’s why it’s more real than anything she could have fabricated in daydreams.

Anger worships her, fucks her, loves her to a relentless degree. As if he’ll never stop seeking her pleasure, never stop exploring, never stop striving.

Merry returns that fervor, loving him back, fueling this bond. Sucking in oxygen, her mouth rocks into his, and his tongue whips between her lips, the kiss going wild. Its tempo mimics sex, wetting her pussy until Merry is grinding her ass into his pants.

The burning god hisses into her mouth. His cock lifts, stretching high and firm, the traction glorious.

A whimper slides from her tongue as Anger rips his mouth away. The sound quivers into another moan as he dips his head to bite her earlobe, then sketches the rim of her throat, and finally burrows into the crook of her shoulder. His coarse jaw scrapes her skin, his warm mouth sealing around the delicate flesh and sucking.

Merry flings her head back, mouth hanging ajar. He drafts her skin between his teeth, the edges grazing like a tease. Then his scorching tongue swipes the sensitive area in erotic laps.

Oh, how incredible it is to feel temperature like this. A mewl cracks from her lungs. Every inch of her comes alive like a shooting star—fast and vivid.

Her nipples ruche into the bodice, the shells aching for contact. Attuned to her body, Anger glides one palm down Merry’s arm before tracing the front of her dress. With deft motions, he jerks at front laces and shoves the panels apart, her breasts lurching into the night air.

A rumble skids from Anger’s chest. With one hand still encasing hers around the bar, he traces a single nipple with the opposite fingers, rousing the disc until it perks. Merry whines, the noise brittle. Obeying her unspoken request, he attends to the other nipple, etching and tweaking, the flesh taunt.

Only when she’s writhing against his frame does Anger release Merry’s neck. Lifting his head, he returns to her ear. “Tell me how you would like to be fucked.”

Oh, Stars. “Such a dutiful god,” she wheezes.

“I’ve been trained to obey,” he husks. “Tell me.”

While the music resonates around them, Merry answers by swaying her hips. The swells of her ass glide across his rigid cock, provoking it to thicken for her. Locking her fingers around the bars, she dances in place, slow and steady. Her head drapes against his shoulder, and her whole body rolls backward into him, syncing with the rhythm.

Anger’s heart slams against her. His hands drop to her waist, the tattoos roasting through the dress. He rakes his palms up and down her sides, savoring her motions, reverent as if he’s touching light itself.

So many times he has made her feel like this. With him, she’s the brightest celestial in the sky, a streak tearing through the darkness.

Tormented, Anger drops his mouth against her nape. “Command me.”

Once more, Merry sweeps her ass against the heavy bulge of his pants. “Fuck me right here.”

Here, at the heart of an ancient city. Here, where anyone can see. Here, where she’s proud to live out loud, to love and learn.

Anger snaps. With a growl, he yanks on the dress, thrusting it down her body. The material puddles to the carousel floor, followed by his hand diving into her panties. A violent noise shreds from his chest when his fingers dip into the soaked line of her cunt, thumb pressing on her inflated clit.

Merry utters an incoherent noise. Her hips buck forward, urging his hand to rub, to probe her folds apart.

Anger obliges, except from behind. Tracking around to her ass, he burrows his hand under the drenched panties, his fingers skimming her cheeks and then spreading her walls. Rowing back and forth, he coaxes her to drip for him.

Her moans blend with the music as she stands there, clinging to the spokes. The ride isn’t moving, but the lights are brimming, and the melody carries across the platform.

She whines as Anger withdraws his wet fingers and fists her panties. The fabric is wrenched down her limbs, obliging her to step out of them. That leaves the fishnet gloves and stockings, which cinch around her legs at the thighs.

An undomesticated noise scrapes from Anger’s mouth as he runs a slick digit along the elastic. “These are cruel.”

Merry chuckles through her desire. “I never claimed to be nice all the time.”

“Then take pity.” He leaves the stockings alone, his shadow rippling across the ground as he peels off his shirt. “Because I’m going to fuck all the kindness and goodness inside you.” His outline unbuckles the pants next, lowering them to the ground. “You will open that sweet pussy.” The long shape of his cock stands erect from that gorgeous body. “You will drench my cock to the seat.” The crown flares wide, the column rising to his abdomen. “You will shout until it’s the most powerful sound on earth.”

Finally, Anger grasps her waist and angles her ass to meet the tip. If she could feast her eyes on him, the line running across his crown would be damp from a bead of cum. As she watches their shadows, his erection presses into the glistening oval, splaying her intimate lips until they clamp around him.

Primed at her entrance, he rasps, “And then you will come around me like an immortal goddess.”

With a forward swing of his hips, Anger’s cock drives between her walls. Merry cries out, her pussy sealing every inch to the base. Darts of heat sprint up her flesh, matching the temperature of his flesh, the hard length standing upright inside her. His girth expands her inner flanks, the roof striking a compact spot that makes her thighs quiver.

Together, they explode into motion.

Anger groans, his muscles flexing. He reels his ass, pulling out to the roof, then pumping in again. The tilt of this position creates a new friction, currents of pleasure streaking up her limbs, coiling in the tight place where his cock lunges.

Merry uses the bars for leverage, kicking backward, her cunt grabbing him at each entry. Her blood swirls. Eager noises drop from her lips, in tandem to their hips colliding.

She flings herself into Anger, and he reciprocates, fucking into her with his entire frame. And this is everything. It’s destiny and choice, a passionate embrace worthy of legends. But more real than any fantasy she has conjured for herself.

Anger leans back, the better to view his cock plying in and out, to see her ass flying against his. Yet there’s more to be enjoyed. Although he had proposed how this would go, he’d also begged her for instruction.

Tell me how you would like to be fucked.

“Harder, please,” she moans politely. “Much harder.”

The gentile request works like an erotic snare. Anger hisses, slings one arm around her waist, and hoists Merry at a steeper incline. Then he pivots his ass, snapping his cock, entering and withdrawing fully.

The tempo wrings a holler from Merry, the muscles of her pussy contracting, spilling on him. She echoes the movements, hurling her waist. This pitches him deeper still, his answering growl drowning out all other sounds.

Balanced between zodiac figures, Merry raises one leg and props her foot on the stirrup. Like this, she splays herself farther. With an ample view, Anger unleashes a haggard grunt, and his flame tattoos sear across her midriff.

They haul into one another, waists beating. Her cunt trickles fluid down his skin, her folds constricting, on the brink of rapture. Anger must feel it because he chases that zenith, powering into movement, working his cock.

The abrasion escalates, yet it restrains the pleasure. Merry can’t justify this paradox, except that it’s the most strenuous and delicious tension. Like every moment with this man, from the second they met. It’s the most exquisitely torn feeling.

She pursues that sensation, her pussy clamping hard around the solid flesh of his body. Anger growls and whips his cock. The pace spurs her, pleasure spiraling, heat building, igniting.

Merry’s mouth splits. The scream bursts from her lungs, her pussy convulsing as she comes loud and long. Anger shoves once, twice more, and he bellows. His cock jolts, a warm stream filling her, their bodies shattering, riding out the climax.

The spell has barely ended when they move in unison. Merry swivels forward, and Anger slides backward, his cock withdrawing. She spins at the same time he wrenches her toward him, their mouths crushing.

Gravity disappears. While flexing his tongue over hers, Anger hoists Merry off the platform, her limbs hooking around his waist, his palms spanning her ass to secure her. But although she expects the god to wedge her against the nearest vertical facade, he strides from the carousel instead.

Merry squeaks, peeling her lips from his. Initially, she’s speechless because there he is. The face gazing at her is relaxed, the customarily harsh planes of his countenance now smooth, the reams of his irises glossy. He looks rumpled, fucked, and smitten. But the sexiest part is the playful gleam in those pupils.

Then she remembers they’re naked and traveling in plain sight. “The crew might catch us.”

“Let them,” he grunts. “I don’t give a fuck.”

That’s probably because he would bark at anyone who interrupts. Picturing the scenario, she throws back her head and laughs. Fair enough, their peers are having their own magical night, and it’s a big arena.

Her mirth inspires a tender expression from Anger. Pleased by her reaction, his lips snatches her chuckling mouth. The rage god returns them to Stargazer Hill, where they began this chase. Even before then, the place where they first fought to protect each other.

Anger hunkers beneath the oak tree, sitting upright while Merry straddles his lap. Then it all slows down. Surrounded by a million sources of light, Anger slopes his cock into her again, the leisurely force of his body venting her thighs wide. Heaving, they grind their hips at a sinuous cadence. Merry’s legs knot around his waist, her pussy rowing up and down, their moans in tune with the concentrated pace.

His muscles ripple with the motions, the damp skin flush with hers. Sobbing with euphoria, she arches against him, her breasts pointed against his torso, her nipples scraping his pecs, and her waist rotating with his. He seethes, plies deftly into her pussy, into that narrow place that floods him, that holds onto his cock.

She’s so open, and he’s so deep, and they’re so close. The lovemaking is charged yet languid, strong yet soft.

As she weeps her pleasure, his mouth devours the sound. His erection stokes the same ecstasy, his pace controlled.

“How… romantic,” Merry pants.

“I never claimed to be harsh all the time,” Anger rumbles, amending her earlier words. “I will always treat you with care.”

Be it hard and fast, or slow and deep, her god will always endeavor to nurture this. That’s why he fucks into her slowly, deeply, heavily. And that’s why she rides him with equal patience, both of them staring, watching.

“Shine for me,” he groans against her mouth.

“Burn for me,” she sighs, the words rushing out.

They chant the endearments over and over. Brilliant goddess. Burning god. One and the same.

Anger’s momentum jolts them atop the grass, each lunge of his cock pulling another cry from her lips. The delirious sounds rush into the air, launching to the constellations.

At length, he jabs his cock, pumping with short bursts. The onslaught drives Merry to another vortex, her body bending, legs falling open. Her pussy clenches Anger to the base, a second gush of heat soaking him.

Once more, she climaxes like a goddess. Her shouts break apart on her tongue. And Anger roars, coming with Merry, his features riveting on her. The combined sounds are a symphony, a battle cry, and a pledge. It’s the most glorious way to rip apart, not the pang of losing, but the bliss of receiving.

Merry crashes to earth, and he catches her, her breasts heaving into his torso. Emitting a deep hum, Anger clasps Merry to him, the flame tattoos warming her damp skin. With more patience than he’s ever displayed, the rage god plants kisses along her shoulder, all the while brushing every inch of skin he can reach.

Merry sighs in pleasure and nestles closer, her pussy still clutching his cock, still connecting them.

“What does our world look like?” she whispers.

Anger must hear the unsteadiness in her question. He leans back, studying her features. “You’ve been afraid to ask.”

Merry doesn’t need to reply. He sees through her, as she does with him. As talkative as she gets, this is one subject she has never broached, too fearful of yearning or disillusionment. But now, there’s only curiosity.

While gathering her tighter against him, Anger speaks of a place with amethyst cliffs, starlit waterfalls, and mineral caves. After answering each of her probing questions, he tucks a pink lock behind her ear. “You might see it for yourself one day.”

Yes. Because who knows in which realm this conflict will continue?

“Then let’s make sure we survive to share the epic tale,” Merry confides.

To which, Anger’s pupils kindle like fire. “So long as I draw breath, you will live. I’ll bring down the sun before I let anything happen to you.” Then a proud expression consumes his features. “Though, you’ll hardly need my help. You’re a goddess made for war.”

Aphrodite. A goddess of war. An instigator of rebellion and a divinity of beauty.

Though as Anger had once said, not merely the physical beauty in mortal myth. Rather, the type wrought from Merry’s spirit because of how she sees the world, viewing it through optimistic eyes. And while Merry had never considered the latter trait until meeting her match, the interpretation excites her.

Yet no matter what, neither of them needs to be anyone but who they are. Anger and Merry. Imperfect and authentic.

As for the fight ahead, they’re not alone. Somewhere in this park, Love and Andrew are celebrating their resurrection, likely having exquisite sex in a shadowed thicket. Merry had seen the covetous way they’d been touching each other.

As for Sorrow and Envy, they would also be indulging in lustful activities by now, if the pair weren’t accompanied by Wonder, whom they won’t abandon. More than ever, the solitary goddess needs kinship. But although Malice has dulled her spirit, Wonder will prevail, with their fellowship to support her.

Anger grunts, unwilling to delay any longer. Merry giggles when he nibbles a ticklish spot under her jaw. At her reaction, a sexy grin lifts his mouth, and he doubles his efforts, nuzzling her neck with a snarl.

Arching, she laughs even more, then beams when he cups her cheeks and lowers her gaze to his, those strong fingers burrowing into her hair. Possessive irises glitter with love. Plus something wholly fulfilled, utterly complete.

“You’re smiling,” she teases.

Anger stares as though the reason is obvious. “You’re happy.”

A simple reply, but so profound. His quiet murmur steals her breath, and she rests her forehead against his. “And we’re home.”

On a groan, Anger snatches her mouth in another kiss. Based the ambitious sweep of his tongue, he’ll be ready for another erotic bout of fucking in several minutes. Deities do excel in stamina, especially this male.

Merry grins into his lips. She had meant it about being home.

No matter what happens next. No matter where this story leads.

Their unbreakable bond. This unconditional embrace. That’s home.

And now she knows what that feels like.