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“It would appear Fate approves of our meeting.” He lowers the jeweled silver cock ring to his groin and carefully pushes it over both large testicles, then he grips his cock in two fingers, pressing carefully at the base until it shrinks enough to fit through the ring as well. “It fits perfectly,” he murmurs once he’s settled the band snugly against his pelvis, making his cock and balls stand proud.

“Like Cinderella’s glass slipper,” I can’t help but say, marveling at the glint of silver dotted with black stones nestledamid the luxurious curls of dark wool that surround his enormous cock. My fingers ache to reach out and touch it.

When I hauled him in a fireman’s carry to the cabin this morning, I only had the briefest contact—well,halfa fireman’s carry since he’s so huge his feet still dragged the ground. I covered him to avoid the temptation to touch him, making sure I kept my contact restricted to cleaning blood off his face. “I should have put it on you, shouldn’t I?”

He gives me a wicked smile that stops my heart, because it’sjustlike the smile from my sketch. The only missing element are his horns, but they’re already growing back; two small protrusions jut up from either side of his forehead, with the same gentle curve of his cock.

“The bigger question isn’t whether the shoe fits. It’s whetheryoufit. Please don’t tell me this—copy—is the only version of my dick that gets the pleasure of knowing what you feel like.”

There’s absolutely no mistaking what he’s asking, and I have no words left, anyway. I bend down to unbuckle my boots. The buckles start just below the knee and go all the way down and I fumble, hands shaking.

“Take your time, sweet nymph. I’m not going anywhere,” he says in a voice as smooth and thick as molten glass.

I glance up to meet his gaze. He slowly strokes himself. My mouth waters and my pussy clenches at the memory of how well the dildo filled me up the night before. I know he fits, and he knows it too, but that isn’t the point, is it?

“Pretty sure I’m no nymph. Will sex help you understand what I am? Or do we do that after?”

“Depends. How deeply do you wish for me to know you? Because whatever you are doesn’t matter a bit to me.”

I pull off my boots and stand, unfastening my pants. He licks his lips when I push them down, leaving my black cotton panties in place for now. He groans when I peel my top off, hisgaze tracing the elaborate tattoo along one side of my body, an octopus holding me with all its tentacles.

Leaving my bra and panties on, I climb onto the bed and straddle his thighs, then lean over and place one hand against his chest. His irises are blue-green, spinning like a hurricane around fathomless black pupils. I’m mesmerized, and it tugs me closer. I shiver when he brushes calloused fingertips down my tattoo.

“It matters to me,” I say, lips brushing close enough to his to feel the slight tickle of his beard. “I hear only a god can tell me what magic runs through my veins. I need to know.”

“Then I need this,” he says, cupping the back of my head and rising to meet my mouth with his.

His kiss is a wild invasion, devouring every shred of self control. I might be on top, but I’m a prisoner to this desire. His tongue sweeps past my lips with no hesitation, toying with my tongue as he holds me tight. He hums as if the kiss means something. Between us, he lifts his hips, his massive erection pressing against my panties. I groan at the contact, tilting against him and easing down until I trap his cock between us.

I’m aching to feel him inside me, but on the verge of getting the answers I need, I’m not about to interrupt his process.

He releases me, pupils dilated, their blue blown to Hades. “You are not any flavor of higher race’s magic, Nemea. You are a different element altogether… I must taste more, to be sure.”

He wraps both arms around me and sits up, burying his face against my neck as he yanks each bra strap down my arms. My breasts spill out but he falls against the pillows with a groan, a flash of pain clenching his eyes shut.

“What’s wrong?”

“It isn’t you. My blasted head… easier if you stay on top.” He cracks his eyes open again, dropping his hands to my hips. “Take these off.” He grabs the elastic waist of my panties andtugs. Before I can shift my hips, he grips them in the center and wrenches, splitting them down the middle. My soaked pussy bare, I press it tight against the hot underside of his shaft. I involuntarily rock my hips, gliding along the curve of him.

Pan growls. “If you want answers, you won’t get them by doing that.”

“I thought you wanted to fuck.”

“Oh, I absolutely do, but I made a vow.”

He gives one gentle thrust of his hips before grabbing mine in his firm hands and lifting me into the air. Before I can react, he brings me down onto his mouth. I’m too surprised by his strength to brace myself for the onslaught of his tongue against my engorged clit.

“Oh, my fuckinggod!” All I can do is claw the gnarled bed frame while he works me over with his tongue. A tongue longer and thicker than humanly possible. But this creature—thisgod—isn’t human, is he?

He grips me ass-to-hip with both hands, tongues deep, then sucks and licks until my vision fills with fireworks. I climax in an unexpected rush, the release more intense than any orgasm I’ve ever had, a flood pouring down my thighs.

Pan moans against me but keeps licking. I look down, confused by the abundance of moisture.

“Wh-what just happened?” His entire handsome face is glistening, his eyes bright with excitement.

He withdraws his tongue and eases me back above his chest.

“You are a feast for the senses,” he says, his voice even more sonorous now than before, as if I’m hearing him with a deeper sense than what my ears perceive. His eyes are black voids, so deep I could fall into them.


Tags: Ophelia Bell Paranormal