Pure Requiem - Aja James Page 0,45

with her hand, fucking my hole with her strong, nubile tongue.

It seems that she’s touching everywhere inside me, everywhere that I’m torn, broken, bleeding and raw. It hurts so much I can’t breathe. I’m beyond thought.

But at the same time, a fiery warmth spreads through my insides, until the pain transmutes into pleasure, and my whole body contorts in a head-to-toe vise—

Suddenly, she pulls out and turns me to my back, a split second before I unleash the hardest, most explosive orgasm I’ve ever had. Just as her mouth closes tightly over my erupting cockhead, sucking down my cream into her throat as both hands milk my column and balls, squeezing, pulling, pushing, owning.

It is all I can do to gulp for breath, my voice long gone.

When she milks the last drop out of me, and my body is nothing more than a puddle of fried nerves, turned inside out, satiated beyond belief, yet amazingly throbbing for more, she climbs up my body and lays herself over me, devouring my mouth in a still hungry, needy kiss.

I can taste myself on her tongue, and a primal, triumphant growl reverberates through my chest.

“As I said, you have the most magnificent ass in the universe,” she purrs against my lips, making light of what really happened between us just now:

That she reached into the deepest, most shameful, broken part of me and claimed it as her own.

“Will you let me have you again?”

I roll her onto her back and reverse our positions, grinding my undying erection into her clothed belly.

“You shall have me always,” I answer, my voice raw with emotion. “But first, it’s my turn…baby.”

Her body softens like melted butter at my words. I guess she likes the endearment as much as I do.

And so, I take my turn with methodical, meticulous care.

And then I take it again, and again, rough, hard, demanding, unrelenting. Until our bodies burn so hot and bright as one, we become our own shooting star in the autumn rain.

Chapter Ten: I See Colors, They’re Changing

*EREBU*

Dear brother,

I’ve been at the Shield for a couple of months now. It is already November.

If I stop to think about it, it’s almost inconceivable how easily the Pure Ones’ and their allies accepted me into their fold. Now that I have a real name, no longer an “it,” and now that I’ve recovered the memories from my past, Before Medusa, it’s as if I’m a brand new person. At least to others.

But I don’t feel brand new. I feel exhausted, wrung out, and confused honestly.

That orphan boy that used to be me should have died. So many times before and after Medusa, he should have died and stayed dead.

I don’t know how to bridge the divide between who I was, what I did—the good, bad, and ugly—who I am, and who I want to be.

I’m surrounded by good people. The very best. The noblest. (The boring-est). But I don’t feel entirely “good,” despite my parentage. I’ve done bad things. I’m not sure I feel the remorse that I should. My conscience is a fickle thing.

I don’t think I’ll ever be like you, for example.

Heroic. Self-sacrificing. Determined. Unwavering. (Stupidly Loyal.) Righteous…I could go on. You remind me a lot of the General. In fact, I can totally picture you as his long-lost son rather than someone dark and depraved like me.

Nevertheless, I try to fit in, or at least not be obtrusive. My rekindled friendship with Liv, or Ninsa as she used to be called in the incarnation that I knew (I still hate her guts for what she did, but I also forgive her, if that makes sense), helps me while away the time, though I am ever vigilant of discovery—I am, after all, still the cuckoo in a nest of phoenixes.

Both Liv and Sophia drag me to the training center and gym everyday for hours of grueling “exercise.” Honestly, if they have repressed anger against me, they should just call it what it is: an excuse to beat me bloody. Because that’s what happens.

They punch and kick me with their bare fists and feet, choke me, throw me around (go on and laugh, it’s true that females, including those half my size, have no problems kicking my ass) in the name of teaching me self-defense. In the interest of strengthening my malnourished body and building muscles I never knew I had.

Granted, I am filling out some. I am developing more muscles beneath the thin layer of skin stretched over my