A Storm of Flames and Deceit

37. Counting Down the Days

Nephele

We materialize in the throne room- which is briefly surprising for him until he realizes why I did it, what appeals to me about being here.

The servants aren't around since we aren't formally staying here, but I'm not sure if I'd care if they watched. Eris rakes his gaze appreciatively over me now, savoring it more than he had in the shop. "Sit down," he commands me, and I listen, sitting obediently on the throne.

Slowly, he walks forward, planting his hands each arm of the golden chair, staring down at me. I start to squirm against my control, my legs crossing beneath me as he leans closer. I don't dare lurch for his lips, though my body begs for it. I keep as still as I can manage, staring up at him.

He watches my lips as I bite down, him slipping a single finger under my chin, tipping it upwards. "You're fucking perfect, Nephele. You know that?"

I swallow, eyes wide, but he doesn't wait for my answer, lowering onto his knees in front of me, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. I get lost in the cording of muscle on his forearms, his clean and elegant fingers as they curl around my calves.

Abruptly, he pulls me forward. "Stay right there on the edge for me, Sweetheart," he murmurs, kissing the inside of my thigh as he hooks my knees over his shoulders. "That's good."

I sit on my hands, watching as he slips those damn panties aside. I suck on my breath as the chill of exposing air hit a my sensitive skin, contrasted by the warmth of his breath. "I wanna make you feel good," he tells me, his eyes flicking up to mine. I could come by that look on its own, the whites of his eyes, the sincerity of his gaze, the quiet command in his voice. "Can I do that for you?"

I nod insistently, shutting my eyes. "Please."

He smirks in answer, his fingers abruptly digging into my thigh, his gaze the flicker of something unbridled, unrestrained. "You play so innocent half the time," he whispers against my thigh, his tongue greeting the smooth skin. "But I think you know better, winnowing us here instead of our bedroom. You want me on my knees in front of you while you sit prettily on our throne."

I swallow, leaning back a bit so that I can have a better view. "I never claimed that I was innocent," I point out. "You jumped to that conclusion yourself."

He lowers his gaze between my hips. "So you aren't gonna behave for me?" He asks, plucking the band of lace between his fingers, so carelessly searing it into a rift. The lace recoils away, exposing me as his gaze meets my eyes once again.

I shift under the intensity of his gaze. "I didn't say that," I mumble. How is it that he's on his knees, and yet it feels like he's the one on the throne?

He smirks, pleased as he presses a gentle kiss to my clit. "Good," he smiles. "Because I think you've provoked me enough, don't you?"

I nod absently, getting lost in how it feels to have his hands so sweetly rubbing my thighs. I'm so lost in it that his tongue takes me immediately by surprise, a gasp spilling out of me. He hums in approval, the vibration of the sound pulling across my sensitive skin.

I tip my head against the throne, looking skyward for strength. It doesn't matter. Even when I'm not looking at him, I still see him in the forefront of my mind.

His tongue begins to speed up its intensity, sucking and pulling on just the right spots as his fingers massage my thighs. My breath is nothing but a shudder, surely too breathless to sustain me much longer.

My fingers dig into the arms of the throne, and I begin to wonder if my nails are strong enough to pierce gold. It certainly feels like it, the blood rushing through my body, hotter and hotter as my adrenaline pulls and narrows.

Eris' nose rubs purposely against my clit as his tongue swipes at the wetness drawing at my entrance. My hips impotently grind into that feeling, and I could swear I feel him smile at my helplessness.

He entertains himself as he works, plucking at the strappy garters on my thighs, laughing as I cry out, my eyes rolling back a bit. His fingers snake around to grip my ass, to personally grind my hips against his nose, his tongue.

My grip finds his hair, desperate and powerless, on the verge of fraying. "Eris," I whisper, breathless. He pulls back a hair, gazing up at me. "Eris, I want you."

He smirks, tilting his head. "And how do you want me, Birthday Girl?"

Trembling, I slip to my feet, shaking because I'm so close to the edge. He rises to steady me, not before I push him back into the throne. "Right there," I murmur, slipping onto his spread thighs.

He braces my hips as I fumble with his pants, knowing he's just as ready for me. I slick my hand inside his pants, stroking so delicately as I pull him out. He shudders beneath me, his hands floating to my breasts. He slides a finger up the center of my abdomen, hooking his fingers around where the cups of my bralette join. "Let's get this off you, shall we?" He smirks as he chars a hole through the slim fastening, my breasts falling out of the lace.

His lips meet my breasts as I stroke him harder, faster. He gasps onto my skin, his eyes flicking up at me so helplessly. This is more like it.

"Are you gonna ride me, Sweetheart?" It could almost be a taunt if his body didn't give away that he was less than smug, as desperate as I am.

"I'd certainly like to," I mutter, hoping I know the mechanics. How hard can it be?

"Come closer," he whispers, and whatever worry I feel dissolves. He positions himself at my entrance, and I hold his gaze as I slide around him.

Our gasps of breath exist in perfect harmony, me biting my lip at the pain as I dig my fingers into his shoulders. He gives me free reign of him, which I'm not sure I expected. All I can think to do is chase my own pleasure, riding the movement and hoping it feels good for him too.

"Just like that," he murmurs as I slip up him, using my knees to leverage myself up and down the lengthy of him. "You're doing so good."

The encouragement strikes with me something fierce as I pick up my pace. His gaze flicks from my bouncing breasts to my eyes, and it's all I have in me to look away, to look up, to delay my end that approaches quicker than his I'm sure.

His fingers are nearly piercing how sternly he grips my thighs, my body demanding that I ride him faster. His breathing switches, his body flexing beneath mine with barely concealed restraint. "Fuck, Neph," he murmurs. "Keep going."

As if I could stop myself at this point. I'm plummeting, I'm crashing, I'm falling off a ledge. I press my brow against his, squeezing my eyes shut as my body jerks and writhes above his with my release. He holds the back of my neck through it with an ever increases pressure, his haggard breath tickling my nose as he spills inside of me, crying out softly.

The world goes so momentarily gold in that release, the join between us, the bridge of contact between our bodies. And as my eyes flutter open, I catch his eyes doing the same, us taking in one another as if we were strangers.

I can't stay parted, breaking forward to kiss him. He reciprocates the charge, his fingers digging into my shoulders as if I might float away from him. My smile impedes the kiss as I pull away to look at him, unable to help but fawn over him. "This has been the best birthday ever," I whisper, curling a piece of his hair at the nape of his neck around my finger.

He smirks. "And the day isn't even over yet," he contributes, pinching me.

I roll my eyes. "Just wait until your birthday, Eris," I warn.

He tilts his head, looking me up and down. "If it's anything like what just happened, then I'll be counting down the days."