Sacrifice

by N. Isabelle Blanco

  I can’t please my female in all way, now can I? Sadly, no. I’ll give her my life, my sanity as it turns out, but she’s not getting that one.

  Besides, she’s still in that bloodied white dress, torn leather jacket, and the white heels? Wrecked with not just blood, but from our constant running around down here.

  That cut on her neck might’ve stopped bleeding, but it certainly hasn’t healed. No matter how much time is altered in this realm.

  I’m also in my sullied clothing from the fight, with injuries that refuse to regenerate. Why? The nymph I love refuses to stop and hop on my dick, and hey, what a fucked up thing to have to admit, huh? Yet it’s the truth.

  I’ve been sweating for what I believe is hours now.

  Sweat also tinged with my blood.

  She isn’t oblivious to it. I’ve seen her eyes dart and fixate longingly on it.

  On that note, Hades does need to be found, if nothing else to answer why the hell we’re acting like vampires and apparently lusting after each other’s blood, but it certainly isn’t going to happen now.

  His endgame is more confusing than ever, more elusive. I can’t even begin to predict what the fuck all this is about, but one thing I do believe: that male wants me and Meg together. Whether it’s just until I die, or because I somehow get through this alive, he wants us reunited as female and male during that time.

  Far be it from me to deny him.

  Common goals and all that jazz.

  I materialize in front of Megara, blocking her path. “Meg, enough. We aren’t going to find him, yet, and you aren’t healing.”

  “Which for you is code for: ‘let me get my dick in you’,” my little spitfire shoots back.

  “Go ahead. Deny that you also want it.” I lift her up and over my shoulder as I begin to walk back in the direction we came. I spotted a brook of clear water leading to a basin a ways back.

  “Hey, dumbass. Did you forget I can force you to put me down?”

  But she hasn’t, has she?

  Not to say that my Meg is lying docile over my shoulder. Far be it from her to show even an ounce of cooperation. Claws digging into my back, she lifts herself enough to straighten her back.

  I hold back the desire to land a nice, hard spank on her ass.

  For now.

  “I’m done watching you stomp around filthy and with that slice refusing to heal.”

  “Again. Code for ’you just want to get me naked’. I’m onto you, fucker.”

  “By all means, female. Convince me you don’t want it me naked, as well.” The pool of perfect, clear water—at odds with the somberness of our surroundings, what with the black trees, maroon plantlife, and illumination that appears to be coming from some unseen moon—comes into view and I turn to head straight for it.

  “I am not in the mood to have sex with you again, Kles.”

  “You’re always in the mood to have sex with me, Meg.”

  Her sputtering indignation is cut short when I send her flying into the water.

  I’m not too far behind her, jumping in clothes and all.

  She breaks the surface with murder in her glowing gaze, but I ignore her and tug her closer. “Listen, my confession doesn’t have to mean shit to you.” Although we both know that the problem is that it does. I slide off her leather jacket and throw it over my shoulder onto the shore. “The deal remains the same. We finish Hades’ tasks, you’re freed, and you get to decide how to kill me in the end.” My fingers wrap around the straps of her dress and I’m surprised she doesn’t bite them off to stop me from lowering them down her arms.

  “Oh please. This isn’t just about getting rid of The Eight and you dying horribly, miserably, pathetically at my feet,” says the female currently letting me slip her dress down her waist, off those juicy breasts, and down her hips in the water.

  “I agree, Goddess.” Lifting her with one hand, I slip the dress the rest of the way off—and what a surprise, my nymph isn’t wearing any underwear—and reach for her heels. “But he made a deal to free you at the end of this, and the only thing that bloody bastard has in the name of honor is his reputation to never renege on a deal.” The heels join the rest of her clothing on the shore.

  “There’s a first time for—” She chokes on a breath as I press her to my suddenly naked form. Cheeks going pink with arousal, she aims another glare at me. “You could’ve just dematerialized my clothes as well.”

  I shrug a shoulder and begin rubbing my hands over her slick body, using the water to wipe the blood and grime off. “I live to undress you manually. What can I say?”

  “I hate you,” she grumbles, hands wrapping around my shoulders.

  I meet her gaze. “Careful. We both know my response to that.” Sweeping my hands over her shoulders, I work the grim and dried blood off her skin. Our stares remain engaged in our eternal battle of wills, but at least she doesn’t pull away. The struggle in her manifests in every tense line of her body—but clearly that’s not all.

  As I caress the area around that open wound gently, my dick rubs into her sleek abdomen, and even submerged in water I feel my precum stick to her skin.

  She does, too. Hands twitching along my shoulders, she twitches impatiently. “Just do it already. Get it over with.”

  I laugh at her. “You wish. I haven’t had you naked in forever. You don’t get to rush this one.”

  Megara’s chin raises in her trademark defiant way. “I do what I want.”

  “And what you want is for me to keep playing with you. After I’m done cleaning you off.” Her nipples are even harder than my cock as they brush along my chest.

  “You know, just like with the undressing me thing, a simple thought and—”

  I pause in my ministrations to cup her chin. “Don’t take this from me.”

  “You do realize how that sounds coming from you, right?”

  Yes, I do. I took everything from her once, even before I turned my back on her, and gave her back very little in return. The sad reality is that I could reiterate how I’m willing to give it all back to her and then some, yet that’s not what she’d want to hear. Those words do nothing for her.

  My life for my sins is the ultimate restitution, but only time will tell if that’ll be enough for her down the line.

  Maybe it won’t; I won’t be around to witness it, either. However, pleading with for a chance at life and a chance to be with her, to prove my case, to worship her in person the way I’ve venerated her memory for millennia, will lead me nowhere.

  All we have—all I have—is this moment with her. Nothing more.

  I cup the top of her head with both hands and smooth them over her hair as I wash it. “There’s nothing left to be said, is there? You’re killing me once it’s over. I’m letting you. ‘Till then, as much as I don’t deserve it, I’m asking you to just let me take care of you. That’s it.”

  Meg stares at me with the heartache of a hundred lifetimes shimmering in those irises.

  An ache I put there.

  The kind that I can’t even begin to undo, no matter what I give or how hard I try.

  Once she’s fully clean, I take a moment to mesmerize her features again.

  For so long, I believed I’d never have her this close to me once more.

  Never, in my million imaginings, did I envision it would be like this, with this unpiercable wall of tragedy between us.

  Her hands slide up my shoulders and the back of my neck, eliciting a shiver down my spine, and I don’t bother trying to hide it. Releasing my hold on her, I dunk myself under the water for a quick rinse off.

  An afterthought takes care of whatever grime left on my own person, then I’m rising to lift her back into my arms.

  “What? I don’t get my turn?” she asks me in a husky voice, legs wrapping around my hips.

  I half-chuckle, half-hiss as her smooth pussy comes in contact with my erection. Without thinking about my response, I flash over to the edge of the back and casually throw her onto the
maroon grass. “Next time, female. I’m too impatient right now. And I do believe you owe me a face-ride, last time I checked.”

  MEGARA

  Rising up on my elbows, I watch that male lift himself out of the water, and I can’t formulate any kind of comeback at the sight of him. There are many that would consider those ebony finger tips and markings trailing up his arms a disfiguration, but to me they’re anything but.

  The lines along his sides, cutting across his left shoulder and collarbone, and even that single one bisecting his jaw, are dotted with those gold, shining specks. His eyes remain normal, yet it’s only a matter of time before their monstrous version make an appearance again.

  Everything else about him is as dazzling as it always was, his facial symmetry the same. The breadth of cut muscle his body is made of both mind-boggling large yet cut to tight perfection on his form.

  He was Greece’s ultimate golden boy.

  Came to be revered throughout the Roman empire, a civilization that spanned multiple continents at its height, as the epitome of manhood and strength. The aristocracy loved to pretend they had descended from him, although he’d never truly sired any children.

  As I watch trails of water lovingly slide down that chest and those abs, I’m damn near fucking mesmerized. About to drool like some hormonal virgin that’s never seen him or any male naked before.

  When I manage to look back at his face, he’s flashing me that cocky grin, and he’s so gorgeous that I can’t even be mad at him for it. He lays on the ground next to me, erection pointed toward the sky, and grabs me.

  At first, I’m sure it’s to have me mount him.

  And he does.

  Just not where I expect.

  I’m manhandled into position, thighs spread on either side of his face, knees braced on the soft grass. My mouth parts with a protest—this is too much, more intimate than us kissing—but the feeling of his warm breath hitting my lower lips leaves me trembling.

  Starving for it.

  I melt into him right as he lifts his head to give my pulsing clit a light lick.

  The high-pitched moan ripped from me is loud enough to be possibly be heard for miles, yet it’s nothing compared to the way he growls against me. Grabbing my ass, he forces me down onto his mouth fully, and seems to lose his freaking mind.

  That’s okay. I’m right there with him.

  As Kles sucks on my lips and clit, moaning in his throat at my taste, I lean forward to fist the grass and give him exactly what he wants.

  Hips rotating, I ride his lips, his tongue, the sharp pleasure of each lick vibrating throughout my entire body. “God, I remember this. Missed it. So much,” I confess between sharp whimpers, already so close.

  He hums and licks me in tight circles that threaten to blow my mind. “You’re not the only one, baby. Keeping you on my face all night.”

  That’s it. All it takes is that gruff voice and the heat of his mouth and I deteriorate in his grip. Pulsations of pleasure take over, until I’m bowing over his face, trying to curl away from the intensity of it.

  Not that he lets me. I seize through that first orgasm and instead of sating him, every drop he laps up seems to make him wilder. Holding me in place, he slides two fingers into me, fucking me hard.

  Sucking my sensitive, quivering clit even harder.

  Trapped by his grip, I can do nothing but hold onto the grass, back arched, as he forces me to come again.

  And again.

  On the forth orgasm, he slides a third finger into my ass, keeping the other two inside me.

  Licking my clit with soft flutters now.

  “Pl-please,” I beg, although I don’t know what the hell I’m begging for—for him to stop, or keep going despite the sensory overdose? “What are you—oh gods, Kles!”

  He fucks my pussy and ass faster with those fingers and groans against my pussy. “Come on, baby. One more. Give me one more.”

  Out of some stupid, self-destructive instinct, I stare down at where his face is lost between my legs and catch a glimpse of his sexy mouth working me—

  I scream like someone is trying to fucking kill me and I’m pretty sure I lose consciousness from coming that hard.

  Opening my eyes, I find myself on my back on the grass, with a demon kneeling before me.

  Kles looks lost. Possessed. Gone is the God of Power. Only the savage expression of Madness remains.

  Want him.

  Still?

  Never enough with him.

  Gods, it’s true. It was always true. Millennia away from him didn’t dim the addiction one bit.

  I bend my legs and part them, too weak to move aside from that.

  “Look at your slick cunt, baby. Left you soaked, didn’t I?” Instead of taking me like he’s clearly dying to, he rises over me and begins jerking that hard shaft, abs clenching.

  It only takes a few tugs; head thrown back, he comes all over my tits and abs, sexy voice breaking with his groans.

  I arch into it, turned on beyond belief at how he’s marking me.

  And he isn’t done.

  Kles jerks himself to orgasm two more times, making sure to cover as much of me as he can. He moves up closer to my head for the final one and leans down to rub his tip over my lips.

  Like a mindless slave, I lap at it, raising my head to try and take him deeper.

  He refuses me, giving me only his cockhead, and feeds me his next orgasm until I’ve swallowed every drop.

  Leaving me covered in it, he slides between my legs and makes me take all of him in one thrust.

  I gasp on a breath, back curving. No denying it, even though a part of me is resentful of the fact: no one ever felt like him.

  No one ever will.

  Spreading my legs wider, Kles presses a kiss to my mouth, then proceeds to take out everyone of his frustrations on my body. Muscles flexing, he slams into me, pumping all his strength into the move.

  My teeth chatter.

  Bones ache.

  Sinking my nails into his shoulders to hold on, I demand, “More.”

  His eyes fracture, flashing with greed. “You’re going to regret saying that, baby.” And he sets about trying to make me do that just that. Hands slipping under my back, he lifts me off the ground and sits back on his hunches. Making sure to keep me on his lap, he lowers his head to latch onto one of my tits with his mouth. Even though I’m on top, he makes sure to retain control of the pace, slamming his dick into me with the same roughness.

  My clit grazes his groin.

  He sucks on my nipple, sending tiny pricks of pleasure to join with the building pressure between my legs.

  I fist his wet hair, eyes locked on that thick artery in his neck, how it jumps to the beat of his heart.

  “Fuck. I wish I could stay in your forever,” he groans, switching to my other tit, giving it the same attention as the other.

  “Mmmm. I wish I could bite you,” I confess breathily, my throat convulsing. A weird emptiness grows in my gut. My mind panics at the return of this hunger—this thirst—yet just thinking about sating it makes me tighten around him, about to come.

  Kles releases my nipple, expression tormented, and cups my nape to bring me to his mouth.

  Connection.

  One touch of our lips meeting and it’s like he’s somehow gotten deeper inside me.

  He has. His dick keeps penetrating me with those hard pumps and his tongue takes control of my own, each slide consuming another part of me.

  He’s everything. All I taste. All I feel. All I hear. All I can fucking think about.

  Jerking me down onto him, he rotates his hips, forcing me to feel him at the very end of me. He deepens our kiss with the move, moaning like I’m the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

  The heart that never quite got over him skips a beat.

  Two beats.

  Still his.

  And he’s still OURS.

  No!

  Angry, torn between this moment and every other one I had t
o survive once he was gone, I lose my hold on that new yet gruesome instinct. In a fit of aroused rage, I pull him back by his hair and dive for his neck.

  Yes. Take him. Take him so no one else can ever have him.

  My gums burn with sheer fire, incisors aching—and yet all I focus on is sinking those very same teeth into his flesh.

  Right over the artery I was eyeing.

  Like a fucking vampire.

  What the fuck?

  The thought doesn’t last long before his blood—his freaking blood!—is in my mouth, flooding down my throat.

  Kles shouts my name, fucking my fast again. “Oh gods, yes, yes, YES. Holy hell, what’s happening? Holy . . . do that. Do that. It’s fucking ama—” He doesn’t finish his thought, diving for my own neck with an unholy sound.

  His teeth penetrate me as his cock throbs inside me. I feel the sharpness of his fangs, that first brutal pull as he takes my essence into himself.

  And then reality as I know it is bulldozed entirely.

  We’re both coming harder than we ever have in the past, but that’s just it. It’s that I know this is happening for him, that I can feel it surely as I’m experiencing my own break down in his arms . . .

  That blood is everything I was born to ever have. Stopping myself from drinking it is impossible. Every new wave, however, unleashes another piece of him in me.

  As if I’m consuming bits of his soul as he devours parts of my own.

  It’s that mental connection from our battle with Hydra, but magnified to universal levels. A uniting of our beings that my DNA screams is permanent.

  I’ll never be my own female again, because from now on I’ll always be his.

  His and the two other entities in him.

  And he’ll always be ours.

  I try to jerk free to put a stop to this lunacy, yet the next swallow brings with it a tsunami of information.

  Experiences.

  Memories.

  Every one of them belonging to him.

  I can do nothing but hold onto him for dear life . . .

  CHAPTER 22

  MEGARA

  Days must pass. Who knows? Suddenly, the intensity recedes and I’m back where I started, on the ground, eyes staring at the dark, murky sky. Kles is lying on top of me, face tucked into my neck.