Page 42 of Incarnate

It is devastating how much that wins me over. How those words, from any other creature, would feel like a threat, and from him feel like worship.

He pulls back slightly, sliding a finger inside to work me slowly. He works harder, and when I glance down, I can see his full, throbbing erection straining against nothing, his forearms flexing with each movement of his hand. The sight of him, the Dominus of Nethram, on his knees next to my thighs, desperate to please, does something to me that bypasses every rational thought.

“Then stop trying to leave me,” he says, although it’s more like a command.

Kallúm shifts, gripping my right thigh to swing it around him so he can be centered, aligning himself until I feel the press of him begging for entry. I breathe heavily, staring into those demonic eyes with the black sclera, the burning gold, as he slowly pushes inside, stretching me, filling me until the ache in my core finally has a shape that fits.

His eyes slightly roll before focusing back on me, and that brings out a moan from my throat.

He positions his hand next to my head, his face inches from mine. “I gave you what you wanted,” he says, a sorrow in there that tells me he’s speaking to more than just Penelope. “Your pantheon is dying,” he thrusts hard. “You will not die with it.”

I underestimated, a long time ago, how much this would tempt me. How the weight of carrying millennia of humanity’s wishes would shatter as my soul changed and found him. How being needed solely by one individual would promote the loss of my memories, bringing me further down the line of reincarnation of my soul.

All deities must evolve, at one point or another, losing access to the life they lived as they turn into something else.

I was stuck in a liminal space when Kallúm found me.

And now he is my worshipper.

He rocks his hips harder, as if feeling this returning to me through the bind. "Tell me you love me."

The part of me that was stuck with Kallúm for years, the one he kept tempered with the shell necklace that I now wear, loved him. Loved how wonderful it felt to give up control, despite my soul always needing freedom.

I will forever be the ocean, even if in a different form.

I touch his face, his eyes needy. “You know I do.”

“Say it.”

His eyes darken as shadows literally bloom in the corners of the room, responding to his power, to his want. My body is held down against the bed, not by his hands alone but by the shadows themselves, and I laugh, because this is so him. So desperately demonic. Needing control and confession in the same breath.

“You still love that the ocean bends to you?” I ask, grinning.

He flips me over with a force that knocks the breath from my lungs, driving into me from behind as one hand reaches around to stimulate me at the same time. My eyes roll hard, a grin washing over me.

"The ocean and I were always destined for each other," he corrects, his mouth hot against my ear.

There it is again. The power I've always had over him. Reverence. He doesn't like that vulnerability. He's always been terrified of how I could wield it, and yet he craves it like air. He's a pirate who loves the ocean, even in her misery and lack of mercy. Especially in her misery and lack of mercy.

I claim his lips with my own as I reach over my shoulder, our noses pressing against each other as our tongues swipe the other. There will forever be a part of my soul that responds to the worship of the ocean, an aspect he is madly in love with. To be chosen by that ferocity.

“Why did you choose me?” I ask into his mouth, wanting to hear it.

He continues to fill me, although slower now, as if making a point with each deliberate stroke, his breath hot over my lips. "You were mine the second I sensed you in that cave.”

I can feel something through our tether, the full scope of pain he's endured since I left this Realm. “You regret what happened?”

“I don’t regret you,” he growls. It taps into something within me. He fucks me harder, pleasure spreading through my pelvis as an orgasm begins to build. It's always made me dangerously pliant, feeling this demon need me. "I regret that you fight this," he adds, his forehead pressed against my temple

Oh, how I want to be mad that Kallúm is so desperate to claim the storm. “You want me to love you… then you have to love me.”

“I do, Nara.”

“I mean truly love me,” I say with a shaking voice from being fucked like he owns my body, pleasure continuing to rise. “Give me the freedom I want.” He growls with rage. “Give me the choice to come back to you, and I will.”

His growls morph into snarls, rocking harder into me. It only makes it better for me, really, an orgasm ripping through me as I clench around him.

I’ll give my mate what he needs. “You have my heart, Kallúm,” I say through pants, the demon pulling out of me to grab my hips, turning me onto my back as the shadows hold me against the bed, his cock penetrating me as soon as he’s able. His eyes focus on me, observing me as his hips return to their rhythm. “I will choose you. Because I love you.”