45. WEN

Igape up at Godric for one more moment, before I cough a laugh. “Okay, you got me there. Another good one by Godric the Great.”

His lips twist and his lids hood.

Oh, Hell. He’s not joking. He hides stuff, but what he does tell me is always the truth.

His gaze all but devours me whole. “I told you it drove me further out of my mind seeing you, feeling you in the throes of pleasure. The pleasure I brought you, and which you abandoned yourself to at my command. It was a bloody marvel. You moved the bloody Earth, my bane.”

“B-but I’ve had orgasms before …” None like what he drove me to, not even those I had in his honor. “I didn’t even shake the shampoo and conditioner bottles!”

“I have a theory—” He holds up a hand, preempting my interruption. “Hold your harassment. I’m volunteering it this time. I assume you haven’t had an orgasm since the Trials?”

“You mean after you disappeared and I felt I was dying, then you came back and I wanted to kill you? Nah, wasn’t in the mood for any hanky-panky.”

His massive shoulders shake with laughter. “Who even says hanky-panky anymore?”

“That’s rich, coming from your Jane Austenesque ass. And just why are you probing my pathetic solo sexual activities?”

“Because before the Trials, you were relatively unawakened, power-wise.”

“You mean now I am ‘awakened’, my orgasms will cause earthquakes?”

“According to my theory, only the ones I give you.”

My mind spins like a top, trying to reject his literally disastrous revelation, and failing. He might be trying to make light of my role in the devastation, but no matter how involuntary it was, one way or the other, it happened because of me.

His gaze sharpens on my face. “Are you still in pain?”

I realize I am, just not the physical kind I’m used to, and can withstand. It’s the emotional and beyond one that I have no defenses against.

His eyes flare with emerald fire as he places his hand over my thundering heart. “Is this where it hurts?”

Stunned that he understood, I bite down on a surge of tears and nod.

He presses his palm right where I need, with the exact pressure to assuage the ache. “Is this better?”

I moan, long and ragged. “Yes.”

He keeps the pressure steady, defusing my upheaval, until the madness of my heartbeats abates. Then his hand moves lower, until he’s cupping my breast.

For the first time in my life, I’m grateful for its size. It’s so erotic, so intimate, seeing it filling his large palm as if made to fit there.

His brow knots as if he, too, is in pain as he looks down at the sight. I just wish he’d claim it, in the flesh.

He only starts kneading it, as if committing its very weight and firmness, its every curve and slope, to memory. I struggle not to splash at his feet in a puddle of molten need. And that’s before he drags his trim, blunt nail over my nipple.

Even through my impervious clothes, a bolt of paralyzing pleasure shoots to my core, taking my legs from beneath me.

He catches me, bending me back over his forearm as he scrapes his nail back and forth over the bullet-hard bud.

“And this?” he murmurs.

“Godric,” I choke, squashing my breast into his palm, giving him license to do whatever he wants to me.

He lowers me to the rubble, and I realize it’s the altar’s remnants. I hiccup a sob as he pushes me back, as if it’s still there and he’s spreading me on it.

The shards digging into my back only sharpen the sensual torment of his ministrations as he alternates them between my breasts. Like he always did while training me, his merciless gaze documents my reactions as I writhe and shudder beneath him with every calculated scrape.

“Tell me how you’re feeling,” he orders, calm and ferocious all at once.

“I have no words for this—suffering,” I cry out as another graze, bordering on pain, sends another wave of incoherence crashing through me.

“You will find the words, White. Report, in detail, how I make you suffer.”

If I weren’t coming apart, I would have laughed at the reemergence of his Godawful Guru persona.

I do, but it comes out a wail. “Everything you do, everything you are, drives me to extremes, in every way. If you mean physically, you only need to look at me, or for me to think of you, and I’m wet, hot, empty?—”

Another flick makes me screech as he orders, “How wet? How hot and empty? Be specific.”

“Any wetter and I’ll revert to the protoplasmic state,” I gasp, arching up to rub any part of my quivering flesh against him. “Any hotter and I’ll spontaneously combust. Any emptier and I’ll engulf you and the rest of this fucking existence! And with me, that might actually come to pass!”

“And you need me to assuage your suffering?”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

“Do you need me to tear inside you, fill your emptiness, pound you bloody over the destruction we wrought?”

I roll my head over the palm keeping me from splitting it open against the rocks. “Yes, yes, all of it. Just let me have it, have you.”

My trembling hand shakes its way down to his erection. Even spread wide, it doesn’t cover him. I once thought I might not survive him. I no longer care as long as I have him first.

“Bloody insane, my bane,” he rumbles, sounding like the monster he is, making my desperation grow tenfold. “Now, stop trying to maul my cock, and touch yourself for me.”

Without a second’s hesitation, my trembling hand seeks the junction of my thighs.

“No. Shove that tormenting hand down your pants, White.” His command is terse, fierce. My heart jumps to my throat as I obey him, my fingers shaking as they glide into my waistband, then below my magic panties. “Now rub those juices I made you spill all over that swollen clit that burns and throbs with need for me. Give yourself the release you’re dying for. Look at me, the whole way through, see what it does to me when I see you come.”

I do exactly as he commands. But I’m so aroused, I come after only a few strokes.

As my cries of release slow down, with my core still spasming with pleasure, embarrassment at how easily I came descends on me. For about a second.

It evaporates as he drags my hand out of my pants, and sticks three fingers into his mouth, licking ravenously at my juices with a growl that shakes the destroyed cavern.

Need crests again as he comes over me, with one of these effortless moves that defy the laws of physics. Rising to his knees, he pushes my legs wide apart. As I open them wider still, dying to take him between them, he claws one hand from my breasts down, as if he’s mauling me. As I know he so easily can.

The idea surges its danger and delight inside me with another rush of arousal. Then he wraps his other hand around my neck.

There’s no gentleness, no gradual tightening this time. He clamps down in bruising force, cutting off my breathing, congesting my lungs with trapped air, and my head with curdling blood.

His other hand ends its pseudo-shredding journey at my mound, wringing it in a vicious grip, before grinding the heel of his thumb between my soaked folds, spreading them open through my clothes.

He alternates between pain and pleasure, keeping me teetering on a razor’s edge, until I feel I’m going to die from frustration before suffocation.

Then he takes it higher, pinching my clit, almost too hard, before soothing the agony. With a finger vibrating at fucking super speed.

Strangled screeches tear from my depths.

When I’m at the precipice of oblivion, he slides down to my gushing slit, and through the indestructible material of my pants and panties, shoves two fingers inside me, one-knuckle deep.

This time, he doesn’t need to command me to come. I bow in a steep arch, as if in a seizure, only my head and heels on the ground, until it feels I’d snap my back.

It’s the tension that does, lashing inside me like a severed high-voltage cable. Brutal pleasure thunders through me, shattering everything inside and around me.

As he ordered, I watch him the entire time as I come. He keeps me coming, his eyes twin firestorms, his expression both sublime and malevolent as he watches me in turn.

I give him my abandon, my submission, bucking beneath him in choking silence.

As my convulsions abate, my breath returns with a shearing gasp when he removes his hand. My dimming vision brightens to the sight of him kneeling between my splayed legs as boulders rain over us and bounce off his forcefield.

When the last aftershock, mine and the cavern’s, dies down, his lips twist. “I guess that validates my theory.”

He’s been testing it!

A mixture of affront, fury and distress drenches me like a bucket of freezing water as I struggle to a sitting position.

He rises to his feet and broods down at me, before he shakes his head with a mirthless huff. “It’s another precedent. I’m the first male in existence who can claim he gives his woman literal Earth-shaking orgasms.”