Bride of War (18+)

32

Slade

We lay in bed, her on my chest. She barely weighs anything to me, but I like it when she's here. I feel her chest rise and fall, and it's like I'm breathing with her.

"You're so pretty," she whispers, her curls a dark arrangement down her back.

I don't know what to say, no one else ever called me that before.

I watched her. Before the poison before the wedding day.

In fact, she came in three months before. She knelt at my altar. Clasps her hands together, squeezing her eyes shut tight, hard.

"I'm not sure what you're the god of but I really like this and every day of my life has been pretty terrible. So can I have this?"

And I laughed. Not at her misfortune. Or even her earnest prayer or even the fact that it was the first prayer I'd heard in centuries.

It was because the face she made, all screwed up like that...was cute. I liked looking at it. She came back when he proposed.

"I'm really hoping this isn't a sick joke. People have done that y'know?" She'd paused, opening one eye. "Course you know you're a god. Anyway, I think you're a god of war, so if you could fight off my bad luck, that'd be great."

It took two times. I saw her twice. I wanted her. I coveted her. I watched every day, waiting. I thought, maybe he would leave her.

I thought about killing him. Starting a war and forcing a draft. Sneaking in at night, slitting his throat. Taking her back to my temple.

Making her mine.

But I'd decided...she was only human. In a blink of an eye, her life would be over and these feelings would fade.

That is simply strayed from my purpose for too long.

Then...he made a fatal mistake. She came back. On her knees, those beautiful eyes looking up at me. The curve of her soft body as she pleaded with me to bless her marriage.

I was going to. I was going to try because she was just so...delicious to watch. And her smile was nice.

I thought I could watch from afar.

She pledged her devotion to me, unwittingly sealing her fate. Humans think devotion ceremonies are meaningless. To most gods, they are.

But her...I wanted her devotion. I wanted her to want me as much as she wanted him. More. He tried to kill her.

I couldn't help but smile.

It was Destiny. She was meant to mine. And no one will ever take her from me again.

She looks up at me, with those eyes. I feel her, heat radiating into me. I feel her pulsing, aching for me to fill her.

Such a human desire. But I've never desired anything more. To be buried in her depths, to taste the nectar that falls from her, the way she presses herself closer and closer....

Her lips press against my neck. Wet and soft. Her eyes flutter closed.

I want her. I want her more than I have ever wanted anything.

She lifts herself up, smiling at me softly, her hips rocking on my length, testing me, testing my patience, testing my strength.

I remind myself she's only human. I could break her. I hold her hips still, shaking my head. But then she whispers my name, whispers it in that soft, enticing voice she has.

Slade.

My fingers are inside her, prepping her stretching her, feeling her insides, massaging the womb that I fill with my children if it's the last thing I do in my existence.

I may be a god...but she is a woman. And I am weak to her.

The curve of her belly, her hips her full breasts, I put my face between them. Her fingers Massage my head, running through my hair, so many sensations at once.

Her tightening on my fingers, her soft warm breasts, her beating heart, the soft caress of her fingers on my scalp.

This body...these sensations...

Yes...the world can burn for all I care. I just need this. I just need her. My Monika. My little wife. My human.

Mine.

She clenched harder on my fingers, her body shaking with pleasure. I don't keep my honor. I spear her on length, conforming her to my shape.

Her eyes go together, her mouth wide open. I kiss her gently. Such a pretty face she makes. Humans truly are remarkable. I press her belly, feeling myself.

She's alive. I impale her for my pleasure. Somehow she doesn't mind. I make sure she enjoys herself, her pleasure makes it worthwhile.

"Slade,"

Yes. My name. It's the only she remembers when I claim her like this. I want to bite her. I refrain, for now. I like looking at this face.

Her back arches as I scrape her walls pulling her off my length, before dropping her back downs I take a sick pleasure in the way she moans, the sounds she makes obscene and melodic.

I drag them out of her with every thrust.

I stop at her entrance letting her suck me in. She wants me here. It's where I belong. Her insides invite me in, and I oblige, breaking her just a little every time.

"I love you," I whisper.

Her head drops against mine, in exhaustion. I smile.

Slade.

It's good. I'm her husband. I am her god. My name is all she needs to know.