“I’d like a shower before we go any further,” Lydia said up at Aon and kissed his jawline. “If you don’t mind.”
“Would you now? Well…ask, and ye shall receive,” he purred with a fiendish grin and a dark kind of mischief that was her only warning of trouble.
The world tipped and whirled around her. She had become used to “teleporting” around the world, but she had gone from lying horizontal to flying through the air. That was not something she was accustomed to. She screamed as hot water surrounded her abruptly and she panicked. Disoriented, it took her a few seconds to learn which way was up.
Floundering and splashing, her feet found a stone bottom to the pool of hot water. As she stood up, her head broke the surface. She was reeling. The water was incredibly warm, and it didn’t help her confusion.
She pushed her hair back from her face. Coughing, she cleared the water out of her mouth and lungs. It was only after she managed to pull in a breath that she realized that someone was laughing. Aon.
Wiping water from her eyes, she looked up and recognized where they were. Aon’s hot spring. He brought them here, and he had thrown her in!
“You jackass,” she snapped, but couldn’t help but be distracted by the image of him climbing down the steps into the water entirely naked. He had stripped off his britches and sunk into the water up to his waist as he walked up to her.
Catching her blush as she couldn’t help but stare, Aon grinned in the enjoyment of Lydia’s obvious attraction to him. “Well,” he began leadingly, as he walked up to her slowly, sending ripples in the dark surface of the pool out from him. “Seeing as last time we were here, you interrupted my plans…I thought it was only fair.”
“You just like to torment me,” she accused. Something about seeing Aon’s face as he spoke—to watch his emotions and his wicked glee so clearly written on him—made him more intense in the moment.
“Oh, that is very much the case, yes.” He finally approached her and reached out to gently stroke a piece of her wet hair back from her face. His hand trailed down her cheek and then to the strap of the nightgown which was now soaked entirely through and clung to her body. It left nothing to the imagination. “By the Ancients,” he breathed. “You are beautiful…”
Lydia smiled softly at the compliment and opened her mouth to respond but didn’t get that far. His lips against hers silenced her, and she let out a small “mmh” at the embrace. For a man who had never kissed a woman before her, he was damn good at it.
His tongue demanded entrance to her mouth, and she granted it. He tilted his head to the side to deepen the embrace, his metal hand wrapping around her lower back and pressing her to his body. The feeling of the strength in his arms would never cease to make her melt against him like butter.
When he broke the kiss, they were both breathless. Lydia slipped her hands up over his chest, taking a moment to happily explore him. She leaned her head down and ran her tongue slowly up along one of the lines of ink that decorated his pale skin. “This wasn’t what I had in mind for bathing,” she complained sarcastically.
“Then go ahead and, ah”—Aon moaned low in his throat at the touch of her tongue against him— “stop me,” he finished after the hitch. She would never get over how responsive he was and how everything she did seemed to affect him. Lydia knew he wasn’t used to this kind of thing, and now she could watch his face as he reacted to all that she did. It was amazing, being able to find his buttons and watch as they played out across those sharp features.
Lydia let one of her hands wander down between them, and she gently ran it against the already impressive proof of his passion. He pulled in a sharp breath through his nose and she felt him twitch at the sensation of her touch. “I don’t think I want to,” she said with a smirk and wrapped her hand around his quickly growing hardness and gently began to stroke it slowly, taking her time. Teasing him.
He let out a low noise deep in his throat and tilted his head back.
God, what a handsome man. The cut of his jaw, the way he tasted, the way he moved. So dangerous and so vulnerable at the same time. She slid her hand up to Aon’s neck and pulled his head down to kiss him again. It was hard not to forgive him for throwing her into his hot spring when he tasted like that.
When she broke the kiss, she paused her exploration of his body to take his hand and pull him towards the side of the pond, and the bench that was just beneath the surface, half as a step and half for seating like in a hot tub.
He followed curiously and eagerly, his dark eyes flickering in lust and mischief both. As they reached the underwater step that acted as a bench, just below the surface of the water, Lydia turned to face him. “Sit on the edge,” she said quietly.
Aon crooked an eyebrow at her. “Is that a command again?” he teased, after what had happened during the last time she had instructed him on what to do.
Lydia smirked and leaned in to kiss his chest, letting her teeth graze along his skin. “A request. I can’t breathe underwater.”
“Well, far be it from me to turn down such an offer.” Aon chuckled quietly and stepped up onto the bench, turned, and sat on the edge. The water now only reached up to his knees, and…ungh. She would never get sick of that sight.
Pulling the soaked-through nightgown off over her head, she balled it up and tossed it aside. He let out a small sound as she did, and when she looked back to him, the expression he wore was one of pure hunger and fascination. Unguarded lust and desire burned away on his features.
As she walked up to him, his hands were quickly upon her, gliding up her arms and down to her chest, cupping her breasts in his hands and kneading them, the metal claws of his one hand digging dangerously into the skin. Her eyes drifted half-shut at the sensation, and she let out a small sound of her own of pleasure at his touch.
“I assume the same rules do not apply…” Aon teased her again, grinning, even though his voice was raspy and ragged.
Last time, Lydia had demanded he not touch her, and that had lasted until the moment he decided taking control was more fun. She smirked at him and moved to kneel between his legs. She slid her hands up his thighs and felt the strength in them. Lines of the archaic, esoteric writing ran down them to his knees, then tapered off. He was one-third writing, two-thirds pale skin.
Lydia decided at some point, she was going to lick every line of ink on his body. She grinned at the thought and sat back on her ankles. Letting her hand slip around the base of his length, she found it still hot and slick from the warmth of the water and steam. God, how she wanted to taste him again. How she wanted to feel him again. She loved this. More than that. She loved him.
Leaning down, she let her tongue run up along him, base to tip, slowly. He moaned and settled his metal hand between her shoulder blades at the bottom of her neck. Not pressing down but instead tangling into her hair and twisting and curling the strands between his fingers.
“Yes, my dragonfly,” he purred down to her, as she explored him slowly, her other hand leaning against his thigh for balance. “Ah—oh, I think a man could become addicted to this sight…”
Lydia took him into her mouth, ran her tongue around him in a lazy circle, tasting him. She began to make slow pulls against him. Aon gasped and lifted his hips up towards her as she did, instinctually starting to press himself deeper into her. Impatient man! It was obvious what he wanted.
Taking a few moments to just enjoy him in her mouth, rolling her tongue around him and tormenting him with the gentle suction, Lydia took a breath through her nose and pressed him down her throat. The feeling of Aon filling her made her moan—a sound that was matched by his in turn.
His moan ended in a throaty growl. “Good girl… ngh!” His hand in her hair slipped to the back of her head, and he pushed her down further onto him. Not forcing her, not yet, but encouraging her enough to take him the rest of the way.
Aon lifted his hips into her, pressing himself up to the hilt, her nose against his body as he filled her throat to the brim. His girth challenged her control every time. When she went to lift her head from him, he allowed it, and seemed content this time to let her drive.
Lydia wasn’t in any hurry. He was throbbing in her hand as she pulled away until he just filled her mouth. She lingered there for a little while, bobbing her head on that part of him alone, before slipping him back further into her and holding it for as long as she could.
“You are a demon and a succubus…I think you mean to end my life.” His voice was raspy and breathless. Moaning and gasping at her attention, encouraging her and seemingly basking at the worship she was paying him. “Do not stop,” he groaned.
Her eyes slipped shut, and she sped up, letting her hand stroke what part of him was not in her mouth. She had teased him badly enough, it didn’t take long before his hand tightened in her hair, grasping it hard as he let out a broken cry. The taste of him filled her mouth, and she found she didn’t mind it in the slightest. It wasn’t hard to take, and when he stilled, she pulled him out of her mouth and began to slowly lick him clean.
“Ah—” his whole body twitched in an over-sensitive aftershock, and when she looked up at Aon, the look on his face was one she would never forget. It was bliss—ragged pleasure and pure ecstasy, mixed with a strange kind of awe as he watched her. His eyes were lidded and dark. “You are a miracle,” he breathed.
“I know I’m good, but that’s going a bit far,” she teased as she finished her task, and sat back on her heels. Lydia stood up from the bench as he shifted towards her, as she thought he wished to join her in the water. Instead, he sat on the underwater ledge, submerged halfway up his chest. He grabbed her by the wrist, whirled her around and with a squeak she was sitting on his lap.
Aon pulled her by the shoulder back against his chest, and his hands slid down her thighs. He pulled her legs apart and put her knees on the outside of his. As he spread his legs, hers followed.
He buried his head in her neck and kissed her there, hot and passionate, his tongue rolling slow circles around the skin. Lydia moaned and tilted her head away and back, resting against his own shoulder to give him more room.
One of his hands left her—the flesh-and-blood one—and she watched through half-shut eyes as he seemed to summon an ornate, red glass bottle of some kind out of thin air. Magic. Right. He flicked the top of it open with his thumb, and she watched, wary and not sure what it was, as he poured it down over her chest.
Lydia jolted as the substance touched her. But it looked like only oil of some kind. Her reaction made him chuckle, and she felt him smile against her skin. “It is not acid,” he chided as he put the bottle down on the edge of the hot spring.
“With you? Who knows?” she said with a small laugh. The laugh ended abruptly in a moan as he took both of his hands and began to slowly rub the substance onto her. He seemed intent to cover every inch of her with it, slowly and deliberately kneading it into her skin as he worked.
He was now kissing his way up towards her ear, and trailing wet, sultry kisses up to the lobe that he took hungrily into his mouth and bit down. Lydia gasped and arched, and he pressed her back against him firmly as she writhed in his grip.
“My beautiful darling,” Aon whispered to her, as he pressed his claws dangerously into the tender skin of her breast. She arched again in pain, trying to wrench out of his grasp. She’d worry about marks, but now she healed too fast for it to matter. She knew that meant he was only going to push her harder. She really wanted him to push her harder. “Yes, my darling” Aon praised. “I will never tire of watching you squirm…”
His voice was low, breathless, caught and tangled up in his own pleasure and desire. His body was hard and taut against her back. She could feel the muscles of his stomach ripple against her as Aon kept her pinned to him.
Lydia turned her head to catch his lips with hers and kissed him deeply. She wound her hand into his long hair and grasped it to give herself some leverage. She ran her tongue along his lips and found him eagerly slipping his own past her lips to explore her mouth.
Aon was still ruthlessly kneading and caressing her body, his touch setting her ablaze. She could feel he had recovered and was hard against her lower back once more.
His hand trailed lower, down her stomach, delving down below the waterline, and finding her core. She arched again further, and her mewl bloomed into a moan as he let his fingers probe and explore her, rubbing at her sensitive nub, sending her twitching in pangs of pleasure that stabbed through her unexpectedly.
“Ah!” she exclaimed breathlessly and broke the kiss as she did. Aon happily allowed her air and went back to kissing at her neck and shoulder, hot and sensual, in sharp contrast to the metal nails that were still dangerously exploring the rest of her.
But the fingers within her core did not linger there for long. Aon pulled his fingers away from her, and she let out a small disappointed sound in her throat as he did. He tutted her quietly, and she felt him lean to slip his hand further down and around her—between her legs and—Lydia let out a startled, frightened squeak as he pressed a finger to an entirely different entrance to her body. She grabbed onto Aon’s arms, her body going rigid in nervousness. He paused, the metal hand that had been kneading ruthlessly at her breast stopping in its ministrations.
“Hm?” he said curiously to her, lifting his head just barely from her neck and shoulder. “What’s this?”
“I—I—” she stammered. “Wait—”
“Oh, my…Tell me you lie to me, my pet.” His voice was a heady mix of rapture and bliss. “Tell me that you can not be so inexperienced in such a manner?”
“I’ve never—” she managed to let out of her lips before suddenly his were on them, silencing her against his suddenly feverish and overexcited kiss.
He broke it off to trail more along her jaw, up to her ear. He was suddenly tense in anticipation. “My poor darling thing, you should not have told me that. Now there is no dissuading me.” He released his metal hand from her breast to gently wrap his arm around her and hold her. Not forcefully, but instead as if he were trying to calm her.
“To think I alone can have this part of you? To watch your face slip from pain to pleasure for the first time…Oh,” Aon took in a wavering, shuddering breath. “It is divine! Please, let me have this. Let me take this part of you.”
“Please, wait—” she tensed at the feeling a finger pressing against her again. Aon swirled it slowly about her entrance, slicking it with oil in turn, his hand still covered in it.
“Sssh,” he coaxed her, his voice a low rumble. “Be calm. If you are so tense, it will hurt needlessly. Relax…Trust me.”
Lydia swallowed thickly in her throat and shut her eyes tight. Oh, hell. Well, she’d enjoyed everything else he’d done to her so far. Maybe this would be the same. Fear was the only thing stopping her, and she was sick of being afraid.
Besides. He tore out my heart with his bare hand. This isn’t going to be worse than that. She took in a long breath, held it, and slowly let it out, trying to command her body to relax. Willing her muscles to loosen. Trust him. Did she? In some, suicidal way, she really did.
“Good girl…”
And with that, Aon pressed until his finger slid inside her. Just barely, pressing into her where it felt impossibly tight. She let out a squeak and a gasp, and her body locked up tight once more. The moan that left him ended in a low growl.
It took Lydia a long time to remember to breathe, and when she did, she tried to force herself to not grasp at his arms like she was drowning in the ocean. When she successfully made herself to relax again, he pushed his finger just barely further, easing his way in.
He was gentle with her. He wasn’t a gentle kind of man by far, and she could hear his heavy breaths as he slowly began to withdraw his finger until barely anything remained. In incredibly patient, careful, meticulous movements, he began to slowly inch his finger further deeper each time. Each time he pushed in just a tiny bit more.
What Lydia had not expected, was the small gasps that she made each time he reached a new depth. Each time he stretched her out just a little further. The feeling was entirely foreign. It hurt, but it was so intensely arousing that she leaned her head back against his chest and could only just surrender to it and to him. Aon spread his legs wider, taking hers with them.
“Yes, yes, just like that,” Aon urged her along, his voice deep and desperate, as if he were walking the high wire with her. As if watching her were just as pleasurable as the act itself. “I think you are ready for another…”
When a second finger joined the first, she jolted at the unexpected shift in sensations and then moaned loudly at the result. Aon was spitting her open wider, and he paused before he resumed his careful, methodical movements. Pistoning his fingers slowly in and out of her body almost maddeningly slow. Each time he pressed into her, she moaned low, biting her lower lip. Her body tensed, then relaxed, as it adjusted to the new invaders.
It continued on for what felt like minutes like that, and slowly, she sank into the sensations, letting them overtake her, letting him have his way with her as he kissed and nipped at her neck.
A third joined the two without warning. Lydia gasped and her back arched, and she threw her head back as a pang of pleasure and pain both ripped through her unexpectedly. She knew why he was doing this. She knew why he was tormenting her. He wanted to prepare her for what he was going to do to her next. She moaned in unbridled pleasure and discomfort both, and his voice joined hers, relishing in her abandon.
It felt so foreign, so intense, she couldn’t help it. Her body felt like it was on fire, electricity arcing through her at his touch. With three fingers working into her at a frustratingly slow pace, she could barely breath.
She realized she wanted more.
Needed more.
It seemed Aon was content with his work, and his fingers slid from her body. Aon turned his head to look down at her where she had laid her head against his shoulder. Her lips were parted as she gasped for air. She felt his metal hand move to grasp her hip on one side and lifted her up—an easy task in the water.
When Lydia felt the tip of his length press against her, she twitched nervously, jolting in fear. He shushed her gently and leaned his head down to nuzzle into her hair and kiss at her earlobe slowly, trying to calm her. “Let me take you…Let me ravish you. Let me watch the moment your pain blossoms into pleasure.”
Lydia forced herself to relax and let out a wavering breath as she felt him press her body down onto his. As the first part of him slipped inside, her cry of pain was drowned out in his loud moan of utter explicit pleasure. His other hand slid to her hip, and Aon was holding her still, as she unwittingly locked tight around him, gasping for air, her chest heaving. It felt like he was splitting her in two. He had done a careful job of preparing her, but it hadn’t been enough for this. Her hands had flown to his arms, and she was digging her nails into his skin, desperately needing something to hold on to.
There were broken sounds of sheer ecstasy coming from him, as he lingered in her without moving.
Slowly, the pain began to fade and as it did, she let her muscles unclench. Let her grip on his arms loosen. At the sign that she was adjusting, he lowered her just a little further, nudging himself only ever slightly more into her body.
She lifted her arm to wrap her hand around behind his neck, and tangle in his hair. Lydia squeezed her eyes tight and panted for air as she felt him press his length further into her, delving inside only to retreat. Aon was moving with precise discipline. Careful to take two steps back for every three steps forward. Sliding slowly deeper and deeper into her, letting her adjust each time.
Aon’s strokes were now slowly becoming fuller and deeper as he pulled her hips slowly closer down towards his. Through it all, he kept the gradual and measured pace. Under her hand at his neck, she could feel his racing heartbeat. He was making hitched, gasping, broken sounds as he worked his way into her.
It must be taking extreme and careful control on his part to keep from simply ramming into her like she knew he must want.
After minutes of the slow and creeping progression into her, the pain had slowly begun to lessen. It no longer felt like she was being torn apart. Sensing the tension start to leave her legs, he lifted her hips almost all the way off him. This time, he did not stop, and instead drove deep, pushing inarguably into her. Gentle, slow, but firm and unstoppable, he slid to the root inside of her.
She had no words, no sounds for what it felt like, to have him impale her like that. To be so entirely full of him. It felt so vastly different than usual, and she could only lay in his arms and gasp for air.
His body was shuddering, convulsing in waves as if overcome. Aon began to lift her again—slowly, never quickening—until just the first part remained. He then slid back into her without a pause in between a second time.
It wasn’t until she realized he was starting to speed up, that she realized she had been letting out small, timid cries of pleasure each time he reached his end inside of her. Sure enough, as he had promised, the pain was fading. And what was left behind was a raw, impossible ecstasy.
He pushed himself to the hilt once, harder than before, and it sent a wave of pleasure crashing over her unexpectedly. Her body arched against him, spasming in ecstasy as he forced her over the cliff’s edge from that one movement alone.
“There—ah—” he gasped and groaned in pleasure. “There is the change. And it is as wonderful as I had hoped—” he bit out through grunts of pleasure. He lifted her hips and drove himself in deep once more, and she let out a startled cry that was all at once begging for more, and for mercy, as he assaulted her already overwrought body. Each time he drove into her, it felt like she was going to forget how to spell her own name. Her body was on fire, every nerve alight.
Lydia wrapped both her arms behind his head to hold onto him, as he used both of his to lift her hips and pull her back down onto him. His thrusts became harder, needier, and he was moaning and letting out harsh, broken sounds as he began to hammer into her.
“Oh god, Aon—” she cried, breathlessly, arching her back.
He thrust his hips up to meet her body as he pulled her down onto him in a stiff jerk once, twice, and then let out a broken, ragged cry as Aon buried himself down into her as far as he could go. It was brutal, it was amazing, and it sent her over the edge into another wild cry of ecstasy.
He wrapped both his arms around her waist and held her to him so tight it was nearly painful. Aon nuzzled his head in her shoulder, and she felt him convulse beneath her and inside of her as he spilled himself into her.
They clutched to each other in their mutual loss of control and gently fading pleasure. He was twitching and each time he did, he pulled in a gasp of air through his nose. His arms were still cinched around her, hugging her to him as if she might vanish into thin air.
When he had the ability, Aon pulled himself from her body and sat her down on the bench. Lydia was still dazed as he moved to kneel over her, caging her in with his arms. He began kissing her gently, again and again, as if begging her for something. He looked worried. What was he asking for? Forgiveness? Acceptance? Was he concerned he hurt her?
She put her hands to his cheeks, and gently stilled his kisses. She smiled at him, and kissed him back once, before whispering. “I love you.”
“And I you, my dragonfly,” he murmured back to her, the worry fading and blooming into a genuine smile.
“Even if you are a pervert,” she teased.
He grinned, the fiendish mischief returning to his dark features. “Oh, I am that without question. And you believe that was perverted? My dear, naive child, you do not even begin to comprehend. But, these things must be done gradually.” He straightened up and smirked down at her, wiping a hand through his black hair and slicking it back away from his face, damp in the steam. “Now, didn’t you come here for a bath?”
