Chasing Earth and Flame

by Adonis Devereux

  Melenius looked to the door and then back to her. “Nevia! A bit more discretion, if you will.” He kissed her nose.

  Nevia’s fires shrouded her in embarrassment. “It’s your fault.”

  He kissed her cool forehead as he explored her deep, untouched areas. Overwhelmed with desire to kiss her mouth, he arched his back so that only their mouths and privates were touching. Melenius wanted his tongue to go as deep inside her as his cock was. Her elements were inside him, just as he was inside her. He desired to penetrate her everywhere.

  “I’m going to put it in your ass.”

  Nevia shook her head, but she came.

  “Conflicted?” Melenius brushed back her sweat-soaked hair. “Your mind says one thing, but your body says another.” He reached behind and beneath him to jiggle the plug. It was soaked with her cum. “I’m going to go with what your body is telling me.”

  Slowly he tugged on the plug until it popped out of her ass. The tension in Nevia’s body went with it, and she breathed cold clouds of frost in clear relief.

  “Don’t rest easy just yet,” Melenius said. He pulled out of Nevia. With his left hand he held her leg steady so that her knee rested near her face. He put the tip of his coated cock against her rosebud. He did not need oils for this. Nevia had done his job for him.

  The head of his cock slipped easily into her ass, and Nevia moaned, still shaking her head. The tension returned tenfold. Her eyes were clamped shut. Melenius slowly pushed, ever so slightly, but Nevia’s body did not relax. She had never done this before, and pain shot through her elements like heat lightning on a hot summer’s evening.

  Melenius pulled out.

  “Do not stop,” Nevia said, opening her eyes. “I want this.”

  “I know, and I do, too. But it’s not going to work, at least, not this way.” Melenius stood up, his hard cock bouncing before him. “Let’s try something else.”

  He took Nevia by the hands and stood her up. Then he lay back where she had been. “Sit.” He indicated his cock. “You guide it in, at your pace.”

  Nevia straddled Melenius and took hold of his cock. Her slim white fingers grasped him. She lowered herself until the head rested between her cheeks.

  “Oils,” Melenius said. A slave obeyed at once, pouring the lotion down his shaft. “Whenever you’re ready, my little snowflake.”

  Nevia leaned down and kissed him for using the pet name he knew she loved so much. She positioned herself once again. Melenius felt his cock pressing against an impenetrable wall, so he sat up halfway, rested his weight on his elbows, and sucked at one of her nipples. He licked and nibbled in turn, arousing Nevia even further. She gyrated against him and worked slowly and surely until the tip of his penis slipped inside her. She froze, but Melenius did not stop his attentions to her breasts.

  Her hands planted on his chest, her back arched, gradually Nevia twisted herself down onto Melenius’s cock. Once he felt his balls resting against her ass cheeks, she held still for several moments, and Melenius did not rush her. She needed to get used to it. His cock had the girth of her wrist, and she was half his weight. As far as he was concerned, she was doing quite well for her first time. Nevia never ceased to amaze him.

  She moved up and down on the top half of his cock, never letting Melenius fully inside her. He wanted more; he wanted all the way in. Melenius twitched his pelvis, allowing what movement he could dare to stimulate his wife’s pussy. He played with her body, touching her breasts, sucking her nipples, even nibbling at her neck.

  Still Nevia did not take him all the way in, and Melenius knew he had to make her come in order for her to relax. He sat up and grabbed her by the throat.

  “The little Akara’s got a big, fat dick inside her ass. She’ll have to be disciplined for being so dirty.”

  Nevia whimpered. “What are you going to make me do?”

  “You’re going to have to come for me. Come while my fat cock is in your ass.” His grip on her throat tightened. “Show me that you love it.”

  Nevia’s stomach tensed, and she threw her hips back, burying his cock in her back passage. Her cum flowed like warm wine across Melenius’s pelvis.

  Melenius stood up with her still attached and moved as easily as if he were holding nothing. He laid her down on her back and pushed his cock into her until his pelvis touched her pussy. He knew this position was best for first-time anal, because he had access to her clit. Balls deep, he massaged her button with his wet thumb, and she clawed at his back, clearly glorying in his domination. Her back passage opened wider to him, and she bucked against him for the first time.

  “I want back on top,” Nevia said, sweat beading on her brow.

  Melenius obliged her. There was nothing Nevia could not learn, nothing she could not do. He let her take control, and her elements rose in joy as she shared in her own domination, as she showed off what she could do. Her hole was still tight enough to clench at his shaft. His cum rushed up his penis, and he forced his mind to concentrate on Nevia. He slipped his fingers beneath her pussy. He played with her clit, flicking her button. She grit her teeth as she bounced on his cock, pressing her weight against his chest where she had placed her hands.

  “It’s good,” she said.

  “And you’re doing such a good job for your first time.” Melenius massaged her clit and moved his hips in her rhythm.

  “I feel … something.” Nevia closed her eyes.

  “Don’t stop, Nevia.” He increased the speed of his massage.

  “Something...”

  Melenius slammed into her and kept his hand steady, too.

  “Oh, something...”

  Nevia stopped, her head bobbing. Her mouth was fixed open, her eyes shut. She ripped up Melenius’s chest hairs in her balled fists. Melenius felt her cum dripping down the sides of his hips and around the base of his cock. When she opened her eyes, she said, “I wet myself.”

  “No, little snowflake. Just a bit of Melara’s good wine.”

  Nevia had had her orgasm; now it was Melenius’s turn. He turned her over so that her head was on the carpet but her ass still on the couch. With only a couple more long, slow thrusts, he shuddered and shot his river of cum inside her ass. A high whine escaped his lips as his mind went blank, white like an unwritten page, ready for the story of their shared life to be written.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nevia was on her knees on Melenius’s divan chair. Her hair was damp, and sweat dripped from Melenius’s chest onto her back. His legs were planted on either side of the chair, and his cock was pounding into her pussy. She had already climaxed twice.

  “Please, Melenius.” She looked back over her shoulder at him. “Not my ass.” She knew perfectly well that by asking for him not to, she would make him do it.

  Melenius responded by pushing her forward over the higher curve of the chair back. Her breasts hung over the edge, and he reached around for one. Suddenly his cock was gone, and Nevia felt utterly empty. It lasted only a moment, as then his cock was back, pushing into her ass. It pressed on, inexorable, like Melenius himself, and the sheer size of it brought tears to Nevia’s elements. Then Melenius’s other hand was at her other breast, and he thrust into her ass, riding her until she wept as she came.

  “Show me what you can do, my naughty little Akara.” Melenius’s beard brushed against Nevia’s ear as he growled his words. He slid back, pulling her with him, until she was atop him. She was facing away from him, however, so she turned, careful to keep his cock still in her ass as she spun.

  “Here is what I can do.” She grasped his shoulders. His legs were still hanging off the sides of the divan chair, but she was small enough that even when she sat on his cock, there was room for her legs over his. She braced herself by pulling on his shoulders with all her strength, bucking against his cock. His thick, black pubic hair rubbed against her dripping pussy.

  “Gods, Nevia.” Melenius’s admiration was nearly buried beneath his rising desire. She knew that this stimulation felt
good on his cock. She could feel his pleasure through their elements. But for herself, the sensation was beyond expression. It felt as though she were being split in two by Melenius’s cock; it was massive in her ass, and the realization that, were she to try to wriggle away from it, to escape it, the attempt would only cause it to be pounded into her harder, made her drench Melenius’s pelvis with her cum.

  She leaned forward and kissed her husband, his taste strangely bitter, exotic. She resolved to make him work for his pleasure. She planted her feet on the floor and pulled up off his cock. She was left feeling hollow, but she did not let Melenius see it. Instead, she started to back away.

  “None of that.” Melenius knew her far too well, and obviously he was not about to let her get away. He caught her by the throat. “Lie back.”

  Nevia did so, enjoying Melenius’s power. She was scarcely on her back before his cock was again in her ass. He pounded into it as hard as he had into her pussy earlier. He did not, however, release her throat, and as he split her body upon his cock, reaming her ass, he said, “Now come, come so that I can see your cum.”

  Nevia knew what he meant. The first time he had ass-fucked her, two days earlier, she had come so hard that she had thought she had wet herself. He wanted that from her again. She did not know if she would be able to climax so hard, but his hand on her throat told her he would not permit failure.

  Then suddenly all was Fire and Earth and Air and Water. She heard Melenius’s rough laughter in his winds, and she felt the chair soaking beneath her. She felt, too, the hot streams of cum with which Melenius filled her ass. But she could not see, could not move. When Melenius pulled out of her, she still could not move, not even to put her legs down. She was frozen in place. Her ass and her pussy were both sore, both dripping with cum, and her elements were in such tumult that she had no choice but to wait until they subsided.

  She could hear slaves coming to wash Melenius. She knew they would come to wash her in a few moments, but she could not bring herself to care. She luxuriated in the absolute shattering of herself, in the glorious climaxes only Melenius could give her.

  Minutes crept by, and Nevia was at last able to lower her legs. Slaves were at her side, washing her as soon as she moved. Melenius leaned down over her to kiss her lips, and he gave her breast a slight pinch. “You are too beautiful, my love.”

  Nevia arched her back, giving Melenius a better view. “Enjoy me, husband, for tomorrow we must go back to Nirrion.”

  A scuffling sound at the door jerked Nevia to a sitting position. Two of Melenius’s slaves struggled fruitlessly against a broad-shouldered centurion. As the centurion burst into the room, Nevia recognized him. He was one of Belamal’s men, one who had been in their tent often.

  “I had come at the behest of Belamal Triumphant to greet his faithful wife, but this is what greets me?” The man’s hand strayed to his shortblade, but he did not draw it. “Belamal Triumphant must know of this.” He was gone almost before the words had left his mouth.

  “Nevia.” Melenius pressed his lips to the top of her head. “He will doubtless go to your brother. I will delay Judal the Younger.”

  Nevia smiled in her airs. She had been too overwhelmed by the number and intensity of her climaxes to notice Melenius dressing, but despite the sudden danger in the form of Belamal’s centurion, she admired his figure as he disappeared down the hallway.

  “My gown.” Nevia rose. Her legs were still unsteady, but she forced herself to remain upright. Melenius was mistaken; she was as certain as if she had seen the future. Belamal’s centurion – his name, Nevia remembered, was Tiranus – would not entrust the message of her supposed infidelity to her brother. He would go to Belamal. Tiranus would not wait even long enough to replenish his supplies.

  Nevia’s gown was now on, and she did not bother with her sandals. Barefoot, she ran through her father’s villa as quickly as her uncertain legs would allow. She made for the outer wall, and from there she saw Tiranus in the courtyard, mounting his horse. Nevia’s relief filled her airs. She would be in time. She slipped around to the gate. Tiranus, his face red, spurred his horse to a gallop immediately. He crushed a slave beneath his stallion’s hooves, but he did not pause.

  “Farewell!” Nevia called out to Tiranus as he rode off. “Do not forget to give my message to Belamal Triumphant!” She did not bother attempting to infuse any emotion into her words. The humans who surrounded her would not have recognized it were it there. As it was, it mattered only that she seem to have had an urgent message for her supposed husband.

  And then Nevia, as she waved, sent out a tremor through the earth, causing a hillock to rise up just beneath the hooves of Tiranus’s horse.

  The horse went down, and Tiranus was thrown. Nevia, still barefoot, ran out across the snowy field. Slaves followed her, and, unsteady as her legs still were, the slaves overtook her. They reached Tiranus first, but he lay gasping and unable to speak.

  “Back away.” Nevia smiled as the slaves scattered. “Give him some air.” She knelt beside Tiranus. His gasps grew more labored, and Nevia knew he was trying to speak. “Slowly,” she said. “There is no need for hurry. We will have you taken care of.” She inhaled then, and, using Melenius’s Airs, took from Tiranus all his breath. The unobtrusive nature of Melenius’s powers pleased her. Though there was satisfaction in seeing one’s enemies reduced to ash, the ability to kill without leaving traces of her meddling was useful.

  “Carry him back to the villa.” Nevia rose. “With care, surely he will survive.”

  She watched the slaves look from one to another with what she hoped was pity.

  “Domina, he is dead.”

  “But who then will carry my blessing to Belamal Triumphant?” Nevia walked slowly back to the villa. “Bring up the body.” She spoke over her shoulder.

  “And what of the horse, Domina?”

  “Is it dead?”

  “Yes, Domina.”

  “Then have it butchered.” Nevia knew that her feet would have been damaged by the snow were it not for her own affinity to frost, but those slaves who followed her, carrying Tiranus’s corpse, would not know this. To their minds, Nevia knew, she had risked injury to herself for the sake of Belamal’s messenger.

  “What is wrong, Lady Belamal?” Nevia’s brother, Melenius at his side, called out to her from the gate. “I heard that a rider from Belamal Triumphant himself had come. And now I see you barefoot in the snow?”

  “Indeed Belamal Triumphant had sent a messenger to me, but though he rode with my message for Belamal as swiftly as he could, my message will never reach the general now.”

  Melenius’s elements rippled with shock and pride. “The rider was thrown from his horse?”

  “Yes, Lord Firin.” Nevia stumbled then. “I am sorry, brother. I seem to be overcome by the events of this day.”

  “Of course.” Judal the Younger offered Nevia his arm. “I will have a rider dispatched with your message.”

  “Thank you.” Nevia did not look at Melenius as she went on. “I have learned my lesson. I will not send the rider with such injunctions of haste. I will take the time to write out my message, too.”

  “It is honor in you to have such care for your husband.” Judal the Younger patted Nevia’s shoulder as he helped her to walk.

  “I care for my husband above all things,” said Nevia, and this time she did look at Melenius. “For my husband I would dare all things, endure all things. I would go with him anywhere.”

  Melenius stopped still for an instant, and the passion in his elements brought answering joy to hers. He resumed walking almost at once, but Nevia knew Melenius would be waiting for her in his chambers.

  ****

  “What happened, my snowflake?”

  It was late in the evening, but it had taken Nevia this long to escape her brother’s solicitude.

  “With the messenger?” Nevia went to Melenius’s waiting arms. She curled up on his lap and leaned her head on his shoulder. His hands
went at once to her hair, stroking it.

  “Of course.” Melenius kissed her nose.

  “I knew that he would not trust my brother, so he would leave at once. I waited for him as he left, and then I moved the earth to trip his horse.” Nevia paused, feeling a strange tickle in her throat. “The horse threw him.” The tickle became something larger, something that began down in her belly. “I-I killed him.” It was bile, and Nevia darted from Melenius’s arms to his water basin. There she retched until her belly was empty.

  “Oh my little wife.” Melenius went to her and held her. “I am sorry. I should have found a way to kill him myself. But remember, he would have slandered you, calling you adulterous when you are the truest wife who ever lived.” Melenius kissed her brow. “My poor Nevia.”

  Nevia looked up at Melenius and laughed in her elements, all the way to her earth. “Melenius, I am an Akara. That man’s death is not near my conscience.” She paused. “I doubt that I have a conscience, really. They are weaknesses to be exploited.”

  Melenius’s winds fluttered in his disbelief.

  “Truly, my love.” Nevia gestured to a slave for water. “After all, did it not occur to you to wonder what became of the men who slew your guards and threw you out onto the Kuthevi?”

  “No, it didn’t. What happened to them?”

  Nevia’s laughter shook her elements once more. “I doubt you want to know. But it is enough to know that none of them yet live.”

  “I should have known. There is no crossing my wife.” Melenius swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. “But what then is wrong? Are you ill?”

  The concern in Melenius’s waters touched Nevia. She knew that he loved her, but whenever he showed her the tenderness of that love, it caused her to melt into someone so soft, so weak that she did not even know herself. For Melenius’s power she had loved him from the first, but his strength was so great that he could treat her with gentleness at times. Not always, of course, for she knew her own character. He needed to keep her “disciplined”.