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klaus-littlestwolf · 5 months ago

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flynn rider aemond being tied up with rupanzels hair and he gets hard abt it lol

Innocent rupanzel has never seen a man so she starts to experiment around him

First was spot the difference, what constitutes as a man and woman, only to find his half hard cock and this makes her wet

and she takes all her frustrations out on his dick

Is This��Hair?! -Yandere!Aemond T

Important A/n:Must Read (Dark)

Okay so this one is DEFINITELY DARK. Y/n is the epitome of innocence, she’s lived in the tower her whole life, only ever read the books that her “Mother” got for her and she didn’t have any clue that men even existed.

She is clueless because when she asks her “Mother” questions she gets beaten, she learned very young to just do as she was told.

The first thing Aemond realized as he woke up was that he was unable to move, opening his eye he saw a circular room, but it had everything a house needed. A small kitchen, living space, too few bookshelves for his taste, then there were stairs leading up to what he assumed was a bedroom. Just as he looked down to try and free himself there was a voice that came from…above him?

‘Don’t try to escape, you’ll never get out!’ A girls voice spoke and Aemond looked up, seeing what looked like a girl hiding behind one of the beams near the ceiling.

‘Look, I’m sorry I just broke into your house but I was in a bit of trouble. I won’t hurt you Darling, please won’t you let me out of…Is this…Hair?!’ He was stunned as he finally figured out what the soft texture of the “rope” was.

All at once the girl leapt down to the floor, controlling her descent with it, not harming herself a bit it seemed. ‘Have you come for my hair?! Mother always said someone would! I didn’t believe her but…She was right to lock me away up here.’

Aemond instantly found himself thinking about how gorgeous this girl was, she was absolute perfection made into human form, not one single blemish aside from the bruise on the side of her face that looked like someone had slapped her pretty hard. His thought then trailed to the idea that she had been up here her entire life with no one to talk to, never able to leave…what kind of a mother would do that to her child?

Then again, who is Aemond to judge? He’s not a good man, never has been and never will be. Hell, he’s tied to a chair with a hot girl inspecting him and he is unable to control his own cock as it swells in his breeches.

‘Have you been up here your entire life?’ He wondered as she stepped a bit closer, now about 5 feet away.

‘Of course! The outside world is dangerous, mother says there are monsters everywhere!’ He could see how scared she was a he felt for her a bit. She had never experienced anything that is good in the world, just kept inside and naive, too innocent for the world around her. Aemond had never been innocent, as long as he can remember he was alone, having run away from the orphanage he grew up in when he was 11 he fended for himself fairly well.

‘Honestly you are describing almost every guy I’ve ever met, though they’re not all bad. I’m not a bad guy, I don’t want to hurt you. I only came here to hide.’

‘What is a “guy”?’ She asked and Aemond felt his jaw drop. What had this girls mother done to her?!

‘You…you don’t know what a guy is?’ She shook her head. ‘A guy is a boy, it’s the opposite of a girl, you are a girl, I am a boy or you could say that you are a woman and I am a man. You know the old stories of a man and a woman falling in love and living happily ever after?’ She shook her head.

‘What is love?’ Once again he was stunned by her naïveté but he half expected this one. However this one gave him an idea…Aemond loved her innocence, craved it and here it was for the taking. If he took his time, he was confident he could own this girls soul if he wanted to.

And he Desperately wanted to.

‘Come closer and look at me, I won’t try to move, I promise. Just see our differences and you’ll understand.’ She cautiously crept closer until she stood before him. ‘Touch me, you know what you look and feel like, now feel me. It’s okay, go on.’ She hesitated, unsure about this stranger. ‘Hey, what’s your name, hmm?’

‘R-Rapunzel.’

‘Wow, that’s a beautiful name. My name is Aemond, okay? We know each others names so we’re friends now, no reason to be nervous sweet girl. Now, come sit on my lap and look at me.’ Rapunzel must have thought his explanation to be a sound one because a moment later she plopped herself into his lap and reached up to touch his face.

‘Your face is scratchy.’ She giggled, rubbing over the stubble.

‘There’s a reason for that. When a man and a women love each other they play games together just for them, the rough stubble on my face will make my future wife happy.’ She looked to be considering that but didn’t ask before touching the eyepatch and looking curious.

‘Did someone hurt you Aemond?’ He nodded and she took the eyepatch off to see a large sapphire where his eye should be. ‘You’re so pretty.’ She stated, touching over his scar gently before running her hands down his jaw to his neck and over his chest which was flat and hard unlike hers. ‘That’s different…’ she admitted, looking down at her chest to see where it is much bigger than his.

‘You can look if you’d like, men have hard, flat chests, usually with defined muscles. Women have breasts-‘

‘Why?’ She questioned as she began unbuttoning his shirt, though she was unable to pull it off with her hair in the way.

‘They’re for whatever man she falls in love with to touch and suck on, they’re also for feeding whatever babies a man and woman have together…you can untie me if you’d like. I promise, I won’t move a muscle until you want me to. I want to help you understand this, it’s an important life lesson that your mother is wrong for not telling you about.’ Rapunzel considered this, he hadn’t been fighting against her despite him being able to hurt her in his lap so, why not?

She hopped up and began untying Aemond from her hair but once she did, he did not move at all other than to gesture her back onto him.

‘No, try the other way. Put one knee on either side of my legs, you’ll be able to see me better.’

‘Oh…that’s smart!’ She smiled and Aemond wanted to see that smile on her face everyday for the rest of his life, he wanted to see her smile up at him while his cock is buried into her virgin tight cunt for the rest of his days on this Earth.

He couldn’t hold in the groan as she began rubbing his chest so delicately, he was in heaven already and he still knew he could take so much more. ‘Do you need help untying your dress? So that you can compare better, of course.’ She thought for a moment before nodding her head and allowing Aemond to untie the back of her dress and pull it down her arms and all the way to her waist. Her breasts weren’t overly big, they were petite and cute, perfect in Aemond’s eyes, though his cock twitched when he considered what they would look like swollen with milk atop her belly swollen with his child. He was no longer half hard, he was fully erect and leaking against his breeches. ‘Can I show you something?’ She didn’t hesitate to nod this time as her breathing was becoming a bit faster, she was getting excited and that is exactly what Aemond needs, now he just needs to make sure that she’s as wet as she can be.

He leans forward and kisses her chest between her breasts before pressing his jaw to her skin and hearing her gasp at the scratchy sensation against her sensitive skin which was instantly made stronger as he moved over her nipple. ‘Oh God! Do-D-Do that again! Please?!’ She whined and Aemond chuckled, doing as she asked and as he did her hips moved against her will making her feel something against her Kitty. She was going to ask what it was but all thought flew from her brain as Aemond wrapped his lips around her other nipple and suckled gently. ‘Ah-Oh! Aemond that feels…it-‘ her hips were grinding down on him once again but she didn’t care anymore, the sensation rising in her belly felt too good to stop. ‘Don’t stop! Please?! I-I need…’ Aemond wrapped one of his arms around her waist, adjusting his hips and began helping her grind down on his length harder as he licked over her sensitive nipple, sucking even harder and twisting the other between his fingers roughly. She threw her head back as she came, her body shaking at the intense orgasm but Aemond kept up his attentions on her until she came back down.

‘That felt good, didn’t it?’ She nodded, face now in his neck as she breathed heavily. ‘It made you feel good right down here.’ He stated, cupping her pussy and making her whimper at his attention. ‘This is your cunt, or your pussy, and it is so special…do you know why?’ She shook her head as she sat back again to look at him. ‘It’s special because it can make you and the man you love feel so amazingly good.’

‘How do I know if I love a man, Aemond?’ He smirked, unable to help feeling successful at this moment.

‘That really good feeling I just gave you?’ She nodded. ‘That means I love you, it means you are the only girl in the world for me. Now if you can make me feel like that too then that means you love me. It would mean that we are meant to be together…does that make sense?’

‘Yes…what should I do to make you feel good?’ She asked him and he took hold of her legs and lifted her against him, moving them both over to the couch and laying her down.

‘I just moved you here so that it will be more comfortable for you, I don’t want my Princess in unnecessary pain, do I?’ Her eyes widened and she smiled before shaking her head. ‘I’m going to show you the biggest difference between a man and women, alright?’ He sat back on his knees between her legs and unhooked his belt before pulling his pants down enough for his cock to slap against his stomach and he saw her eyes widen as she looked at it. ‘You can touch it if you want to, just be gentle.’ She sat up a bit and reached out to wrap her hand around it making his head fall back as he groaned. ‘This is my cock, and it’s very sensitive. You can make it feel so good for me just like I made you feel.’

‘Show me how! I wanna make you feel good too Aemond.’

‘Such a sweet girl you are, fuck! You can make it feel good just stroking it if you want, or you can put it in your mouth and suck on it, that feels incredible.’ He stopped her from moving to put her mouth on him making her pout which he found adorable. ‘The thing that makes a man’s cock feel best though, is when it’s inside a tight little pussy like yours.’ Her eyes widened in surprise before looking back at his cock.

‘I don’t think that will fit Aemond…’

‘Of course it will pretty girl.’ He promised, laying her back and kissing her cheek gently. ‘I love you, and you love me, I already know it. Now I’m gonna make the both of us feel really good, okay? Do you trust me?’ She hesitated a moment before realizing that she does which prompted her to nod her head. ‘That’s my good girl. Now this is going to be uncomfortable for a moment, maybe even a tad bit painful but I promise it will pass quickly, alright? Then you will feel nothing but pleasure.’

‘Okay…I trust you.’ There’s a small part of his brain that feels a bit bad taking advantage of her like this but if he didn’t then someone else would and they would probably be 10x worse than him. He’s going to make her feel good for the rest of her life, and she’s going to give him all the pleasure and babies he could ever want. It’s worth it any way you look at it.

‘Just relax for me.’ He instructed as he pulled her panties down and tossed them aside, pressing his cock against her hole and pushing into her gently. He didn’t stop until he bottomed out before he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her softly and taking her mind off of the discomfort. She kissed back happily, following his lead and eventually he felt her relax. ‘There you are pretty girl.’ He pulled his hips back, pushing into her again slowly which made her whine as it clearly felt good. ‘Such a good girl, letting me fuck your little pussy. So fucking good Princess!’ He moaned as he rocked back and forth, picking up the pace a bit at a time before she was a panting, mewling mess as he drilled his cock in and out of her as hard as he could. ‘You feel so good for me baby, making my cock feel so fucking good! Such a good girl!’

‘Don’t stop, please? Feels-ah! Never want you to stop…’ she whined, pulling his head down to kiss her again which he happily did.

‘Gonna fuck you like this all the time Princess. All day every day, this pussy was made for me! Your body was made for me, made to take my cock! Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum! Gonna fill you up so good baby!’

‘C-cum?’ She mumbled and he just grunted as he buried his face into her neck.

‘Cum, remember how good you felt before? That was cumming. Gonna cum inside you, fill you up so deep! You’ll never want to be empty again, and I’ll never leave you without my cum.’ He could feel her pussy squeezing around him suddenly as she cried out and he fucked her through it before thrusting harder and making her look up at him. ‘Tell me what you want.’

‘I want you to cum…want you to cum in me and feel so good!’

‘Tell me…tell me you want me to put a baby in you!’ He grunted, so close and desperate to hear her say it, knowing she would do anything he said at this point.

‘Yes! Fill me up! Put a baby in me, please? Want your babies!’

‘Oh Fuck! FuckFuckFuck!’ He pushed his cock as deep into her cunt as he could physically get before he came, shooting everything he had up into her womb. ‘Good girl, gonna have my babies. God, I love you Princess-fuck!’

‘I love you too Aemond…you feel so good…’

‘That’s right Princess. You’re all mine now, all fucking mine.’

Aemond “Tangled” Moodboard

Aemond T. Masterlist

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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

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The Evening Star (1/2)

[ Hades • Aemond x Persephone • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, kidnaping, sexual tension, obsession, incest, toxic relation ]

[ description: When the god of the underworld comes out of his caves once a year to admire his beloved constellation, he accidentally meets his niece, whom he has never seen before. Moved by sudden lust and desire, he kidnaps her, despite her despair and his brother's anger. Angst, sexual tension, dark and obsessive Aemond. ]

Part 2: The Moonlight Ray

The Evening Star & The Moonlight Ray

Persephone Moodboard

*English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy!*

My others works: Masterlist

_____

He never understood his brother, hurling his lightning bolts from the heavens at defenceless people in a rage − he did not understand his volatility, he did not understand his irrepressible desire, his unlimited emotionality.

He did not understand how he could desire and feel so many things at once, having his sister-wife haunt and take other goddesses, nymphs, or even human women, begetting bastards on earth and in the heavens.

He did not understand him, for he was emptiness, abyss, coldness, the opposite of his impulsiveness, his eternal volatility − he was like stone, like white marble, soul as well as body.

The only desire he had ever known in his life was the desire for power, and for this his brother deprived him of one eye before casting him into a dark abyss where not even the light of the stars could reach.

Although he was a god, his brother's blow could not be undone and he was forever disfigured, the dark hole in his face filled with a precious stone, sapphire, shining with a disturbing blue light.

Accustomed to the darkness of Hades, he could no longer bear the intense light of the sun and rarely appeared on Olympus itself; he would wander through his dark caverns in his long, black matted robe and gaze at the river Styx, at its pale light and the contorted terrified faces of the souls who swam in it.

When word reached him that his brother had mated with their other sister, the goddess of the field crops, and that she had bore him a daughter, he was neither surprised nor interested − he did not come to celebrate her birth on Olympus or congratulate his brother.

His brother had often suggested to him that he should take a wife, that he should not be alone in the darkness of the underworld.

He, however, felt no such need.

Even his sister, known as the Goddess of Love and Desire, was unable to seduce him.

She touched his naked body with her soft lips and hands, but he felt nothing but embarrassment.

He left Hades only once a year, when his favourite constellation emerged in the sky − he would then stroll through the old, dense forest looking up at the stars, breathing in the fresh air, listening to the rustle of the leaves.

When this time of year came, when he left his caves and looked up, he felt contentment at the sight of the twinkling dots in the sky, the pleasant night breeze enveloping his cold body.

He strolled slowly and aimlessly, looking upwards, all around him only the quiet rustling of his robes and the sound of dew-wet grass lingering beneath his feet.

He froze as he heard someone's footsteps break a twig not far from him – he knew he was not alone and he was furious.

He thought that whoever this mortal was, he would flow right down his river of the dead.

He tilted his head to the side and saw a pale figure illuminated only by shy starlight, her body pressed against the trunk of a tree as if she wanted to take refuge in it, her face expressing helpless anxiety.

Her eyes were big, warm and as dark as his robe, her hair long, partly loose, partly decorated with rich braids encircling her head, small blue flowers woven into her hair.

Her full, moist, fleshy lips were parted slightly in an accelerated breath, her breasts which he could see perfectly through the thin, transparent material of her robe were rising and falling restlessly, her skin glistening like moonlight.

He stared at her, unable to move or make a sound, unsure if he had ever seen a being so infinitely beautiful in his life, luminous as the stars above his head.

He swallowed loudly when he saw that she had taken a step back to retreat, to escape.

"Is it the beautiful Evening Star herself who has left the sky to enchant me with her company?" He asked lowly, impassively, his voice though assured and direct trembled, betraying his desperation.

She stopped in mid-motion and looked at him again, surprised and embarrassed at the same time by his words − it seemed to him that he saw perfectly well how her cheeks flushed, giving her skin a rose tint.

She pressed her lips together watching him carefully, lifting her chin slightly as if probing him closely from afar, assessing whether he was a threat to her, whether he would hurt her.

He was unable to take his eyes off her.

"I will tell you who I am only if you tell me who you are." She whispered in a trembling, gentle tone.

A smirk appeared on his face at the thought that maybe she was a nymph who had ventured too far from her friends, and that she was at his mercy now.

He hummed under his breath and moved ahead, putting his hands behind his back, looking under his feet, moving unhurriedly towards her.

"They call me many names." He said with mischievous amusement, throwing her a piercing, disturbing look from which she shuddered all over, taking a step back again.

"My river, though water is a life-giving gift, brings death." He whispered once he was a few steps away from her, wanting her to solve the riddle herself, to exert herself.

She swallowed loudly, her eyes widening suddenly, as if she had just realised something.

"− uncle −" She whispered, and he froze, stopping in mid-step; for the first time in the thousands of years he had walked the world he felt his own heart pounding hard.

He looked at her in disbelief, and it was only at close that he saw that she did indeed have something of his brother and sister in her, though it was her she resembled more − he felt himself grow even paler than usual, his hands clenched into fists behind his back.

She, however, seemed not frightened about who he was, her face took on an expression full of contentment and warmth. She moved closer to him and now it was he who took a step back feeling a strange heat in his lower abdomen, his manhood throbbed suddenly as he caught a glimpse of the outline of her soft breasts.

"My mother told me a lot about you. About the sun hurting your eye." She said softly, and he swallowed loudly seeing that she was staring at his scar, at the stone placed where his eye once was.

He thought he was like Hephaestus, hideous, disfigured, and that she would never desire him.

He felt his jaw clench tightly, his body tense, hard as granite when she tentatively placed her soft hand on his shoulder, he felt the warmth of her flesh through the thin material of his robe.

He didn't know what was happening to his body, he felt tickling and tension in his lower abdomen, a strenuous need for some kind of relief that he didn't understand.

"Stay with me to watch the sunrise. Don't sink into darkness yet." She whispered as if in worry − he couldn't tear his eyes from her face, from her warm gaze.

He was unable to comprehend how any living being could be so beautiful.

"No." He said coldly, and then grasped her in his arms, his hands clenching on her soft, hot flesh like steel tongs.

For a moment she couldn't make a sound, terrified and shocked − she didn't scream when he threw her over his shoulder and headed towards his underworld, cold, dark, damp.

It was only when she realised what he was doing that she began to struggle and cry, calling loudly for help from her mother and father, begging him not to do it, to let her go, that she would not tell anyone about it.

He, however, decided to follow his brother's advice and take a wife.

The marriage required the oaths from both of them, but this did not prevent him from acknowledging her as his wife even though she refused to speak the words.

Even though he had given her his most beautiful chamber, on whose ceiling precious minerals shimmered like stars, in which streams of water hummed, in which she could lie on a great, soft bed, she did not want to see him.

He was not his brother.

He had no intention of taking her against her will.

It was enough for him that he could look at her every day.

Only him.

He bestowed new gifts on her every day, but she still cried.

He gave her a beautiful long gown of dark, translucent material embroidered with stones in which the warm light of the sun was encased after she said she longed to see it, but she didn't even look at it.

The blue flowers in her hair withered as did the warmth in her eyes − she was slowly becoming as pale as he was and was constantly shivering from the cold.

She would not let him embrace or touch her; she covered herself with the thick furs he had given her and turned away from him.

Occasionally something would awaken in her − she would then run up to him when he visited her and beg him to let her leave to see her mother.

"I promise you that I will come back and that I will be your wife. Please, let me see the sunshine and the fresh grass one last time." She begged, touching tenderly his cold cheek with her fingers, almost as if she loved him, and he almost gave in to her every time.

"I can't, Persephone." He replied coolly, feeling some kind of pain seeing the despair on her face, hearing her helpless sobbs again, her small hands clenched on his robe, her cheek hugged to his chest.

"My name is Kora." She mumbled with difficulty, as if enraged. He hummed at her words, lifting slowly his large, cold hand, taking unruly strands of her hair from her face, all red from crying.

"Persephone, this name, is my gift to you. For my sweet wife." He whispered, and she trembled, struggling to breathe, shaking all over.

"− please −" She babbled as he embraced her uncertainly and stroked her hair, relishing its soft texture, letting her draw on this substitute of comfort.

He walked with her through the interiors of Hades, wanting to show her that besides death, there was also beauty in the underworld − underground streams and lakes with crystal clear water, his three-headed, beloved Cerberus, who in his presence turned from a monstrous beast into a gentle, docile animal.

Sometimes it seemed to him that a smile adorned her face for a moment, but then the sadness came over her again − she shuddered with cold and fear hearing the wailing of souls floating in the Styx, she glanced nervously in that direction, swallowing loudly.

"Are they suffering a lot? Can they be helped?" She whispered, and he hummed under his breath, walking beside her with his arms folded behind his back.

"They are paying for what they have done in their lifetime. Their merits and transgressions have been weighed by Temida, who has issued a judgment on them. There is nothing I can do." He admitted with a glance at her, and she lowered her gaze, looking down at her hands.

"Are you afraid of me?" He asked her at last, and she lifted her large, frightened eyes to him, her lips parted but no sound came from her throat. He pressed his lips together, feeling a sting in his chest.

He asked her if she was afraid of him after he had kidnapped her and held her against her will.

What did he expect?

The wrath of his brother and sister was quickly getting to him − her mother distraught at her disappearance had fallen into a state of utter agony, people were being starved to death by the land's failure to yield crops, there were more souls flowing in the Styx than he had ever seen in his centuries-long life.

He felt a kind of satisfaction when his brother descended into the underworld for the first time since time immemorial; he hated to think about dying and passing, and could not grasp the meaning of such a short life, knowing only the meaning of infinity himself.

He came out to meet him sitting proudly on his black marble throne, thousands of skulls at his feet.

For the first time he looked down on his brother, a gigantic cave all around them, Styx surrounding them on all sides except a small bridge.

"Brother. I warn you for the last time. If you don't give me my daughter..."

"Then what? I should take a wife at last – those are your words, aren't they?" He asked with a sneer, sitting stretched out comfortably in his seat.

"I want to see her." He demanded, and his lips tightened at his words. "Or I'll take her away from you myself and you'll never see her again."

"I poured water from my river into the honey she drank. Like any soul who has already bound herself to the underworld, she will not leave Hades without my permission." He said calmly, and his brother's face flushed red, his angry low voice echoing around him so that the ground shook around them.

"I WANT TO SEE HER!"

He hummed under his breath and nodded to his servant to bring her in.

His wife came out of her chamber a moment later − when she saw her father she immediately beamed, ran to him and threw herself into his arms.

He looked at them coolly, feeling his heart pounding fast, his stomach twisting with rage.

"My sweet daughter. Did he hurt you?" He asked as if the welfare of any woman mattered to him, as if he hadn't raped an endless number of innocent girls, forgetting them quickly because they were dying in what seemed to him to be just the blink of an eye.

He swallowed loudly when his Persephone shook her head, tightening her lips, lowering her head.

"He's good to me." She whispered and he felt a squeeze in his heart, a pain he had never known before.

His brother looked at him accusingly, trying to contain his aggressive, abrupt nature.

"People are suffering hunger because of you. Her mother has gone mad with despair, the flowers are not blooming, the grains are not yielding. Let them be together at least a few months of the year and I will recognise your marriage in the eyes of Olympus." He suggested, and he furrowed his brow.

"No." He hissed coldly, his gaze icy, piercing, furious, his hand clenched into a fist. "She is my wife. A wife's place is with her husband."

His brother moved in fury, wanting to lash out at him, the ground shook around them again, but his daughter's hand stopped him.

"Let us speak alone, father." She said softly; his brother backed away, panting heavily, his jaw clenched tight.

He hummed under his breath when he saw his wife move towards him, climbing the black, cold stone steps to finally stand before him − his brother snorted and turned, walking away, furious.

He looked up at his Persephone massaging his chin, delighted to see the outline of her body shapes beneath her thin white robe.

He shuddered and swallowed loudly, shocked as she sat on his lap, his manhood throbbed suddenly feeling her body so close, her fresh scent like a cool morning breeze.

"− husband −" She whispered with a soft click of her pink tongue, her hips innocently rubbing against his hardness, his body shivered at the sound of that word.

She had never called him that before.

She touched his cheek with her soft fingertips so gently, tenderly, slow strokes of her hips teasing him so innocently, that he parted his lips, breathing with increasing difficulty, his palms tightening on his cold stone armrests.

He could feel his length pulsing and swelling with every motion she made, he didn't understand what was happening to him.

He didn't stop her when she reached up to tie of his matte black robe, he drew in a loud breath and closed his eyelids when her delicate hand tentatively touched what was underneath.

"I am yours. I will give myself to you of my own free will." She whispered in a sweet, warm, trembling voice, her gaze misty, her lips full, swollen, red from emotion.

A quiet, low groan broke from his throat as he felt her hand direct the fat head of his manhood between her thighs with a gentle movement, he could see through the translucent material as she slowly began to sink him into her body.

He tilted his head back with quiet moan, licking his lower lip, feeling her hot, fleshy insides squeeze him wonderfully from all sides − she was surprisingly moist and warm, her core throbbing with arousal.

He felt her put her hands on his shoulders, lowering herself onto him with a loud, sweet gasp, her plump lips parted wide.

His hands involuntarily gripped her hips as she began to move, rising and falling against his length so painfully slowly that he had to close his eyelids shut, panting louder and louder along with her.

"– gods –" He exhaled with difficulty as she accelerated, the loud, sticky slaps of flesh against flesh echoing through the dark cavern, his manhood throbbing and twitching inside her, all hard and swollen with pleasure.

Involuntarily, his cold fingers clenched on the hot skin of her hips − he rooted his manhood into her tight, moist insides with his desperate, pathetic thrusts, her sticky moisture dripping down her thighs.

"– for our marriage to be valid you must fill me with yourself, my husband –" She whispered, pressing her forehead against his, droplets of sweat glistening on her body like little diamonds, her sweet moans of pleasure, her slick walls sucking him inside made him loose his temper.

He gasped weakly at her words, he had never felt a woman's insides before, had never desired anyone before her.

He felt like his manhood was going to explode with desire and lust, his thrusts became faster and more brutal, her soft breasts bouncing in front of his face − he lifted his hand and squeezed it tentatively, a soft mewl of delight erupted from her throat.

"– Persephone –" He breathed out pleadingly, imploringly, and then she kissed him, her hot, swollen, moist lips clinging to his, cold, dead, the tips of their tongues licking each other.

"– please –" She mewled although he didn't know what she was actually asking him, and then he heard her cry loudly, as if surprised, her hot insides clenching against him greedily, her tongue deep in his throat.

He felt with each thrust of his hips that he was getting closer and closer to something he'd never experienced before in his life.

Fulfilment.

The wave of heat and pleasure, his seed that spilled inside her surprised him so much that his voice stuck in his throat, and then again and again a low, helpless groan broke from his mouth − both of them were panting as they looked at each other with their lips open wide, his hands clenched painfully tight on her hips.

"I'm yours." She whispered softly, sweetly − he was looking at her feeling only peace, only love. "I am only yours, so please, let me see her."

He felt the heat in his heart replaced by coldness, his brow furrowed in a sense of anger, of pain, of betrayal.

"No." He hissed, wanting to lift her up, but she shook her head, cupping his face in her warm, soft hands.

"I will never truly be your wife if you won't trust me. If I don't come back to you of my own free will." She said helplessly, pain, fear and suffering in her eyes again, his lips tightened into a thin line at her words.

"Nine months with my mother so I can enjoy the sun, and then three here, just with you, every night, every day, I swear." She whispered tenderly pressing her face against his cheek, her scent overpowering and stupefying him, her warm insides still pleasantly enveloping his already soft manhood.

He swallowed loudly at her words, his palms digging firmly into the soft skin of her thighs.

"You're lying. You will never come back to me." He hissed and groaned low when he felt her hips begin to move up and down again with a loud click of her wetness and his spend, his manhood pulsed involuntarily with pleasure, betraying him.

"I'll come back. I promise I'll come back."

As much as she wanted him to lead her away, he didn't want to watch her disappear beyond the borders of Hades never to return.

He didn't want to watch her run merrily towards the light, thanking the gods for his weakness and naivety, for how every woman in history had been able to exploit a man's desires.

He did not want her to see his expression, his suffering and all the other feelings he did not want to feel.

The day after she left, he went to her chamber and lay in her bedding, sinking his nose into her scent.

He found, with regret and pain, that with each passing month her scent grew fainter and fainter, her silhouette in his mind becoming more and more blurred, as if he had never really met her.

He touched himself thinking about her, experiencing both wonderful and painful fulfilment with the knowledge that he would never feel her again.

He preferred to explain to himself that it was just a dream.

That he had never met her.

He knew she would not return.

She would not return to her captor, to the man who had kept her in a dark underworld for months, deaf to her pleas and sobs, a man who was crippled, who was cold, frightening and empty.

Despite this, despite knowing it, when the day came he could think of nothing else − he watched as the sand shifted in the great hourglass constructed of bone and glass as he lay in his chamber, drinking wine, feeling like a demented madman, listening for her footsteps amidst the groans of the dead.

She did not come.

He stared at the empty hourglass, which turned and the sand began to shift again, counting down the time of the new day; he wondered how he could have been so naïve to wait.

For the first time in ages he felt an embarrassing, burning wetness under his eyelids − proof that he really loved her.

He shuddered when he heard the quiet rustling of robes − he glanced sideways and saw her standing in the doorway of his dark chamber, in her hair beautiful small yellow flowers, her face bright and warm.

She wore the gown he had given her, black, decorated with sun rays stones.

"My mother kept me. She couldn't let me go." She whispered, and he felt his throat tighten, his body freeze, unable to make a sound or make any movement.

He breathed hard, looking at her with wide eyes, his lower lip and hands trembling involuntarily as she approached him slowly, as her hands untied the bindings of his robe with a light, easy motion, revealing what was underneath, how much he wanted her, how much he waited for her.

"I have been counting down the days when I will see your face again." She whispered, running her fingers over his scarred cheek, sitting on top of him, gently taking his hard length in her palm, lowering herself onto the fat head of his cock as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

He wanted to tell her that he didn't believe her, but instead a surprised, throaty groan of pleasure burst from his mouth − he tilted his head back, panting loudly, his hips involuntarily beginning to root his manhood into her fleshy, moist insides, her hands clenched on his shoulders.

"– fuck –" He gasped out looking at her with his lips parted, synchronising his thrusts with the rhythm of her body − he swallowed loudly as she slid the material of her robe off her shoulders, exposing her soft, plump breasts to him.

"– touch me, husband –" She cooed, and he lifted himself, immediately pressed his lips to her breast, sucking on it greedily, licking and teasing her nipple with his tongue, all hard with desire.

She sank her fingers into his long white hair and pressed his face against her chest, rising and falling on top of him with a loud click of her moisture, moaning so sweetly and loudly that he felt like his manhood was about to explode.

"– were you touching yourself? – did you touch yourself when you weren't with your husband? –" He hissed out in a trembling voice between flicks of his tongue, she kissed his hair in an attempt to soften his question and her answer.

"– forgive me, husband – forgive me, I've missed you so terribly –" She mumbled helplessly as he ran his fingers down her hips, twisting with her so that she fell on her back.

He gripped her thighs in his hands, looking down at her − her face all red with exertion, her hair scattered in disarray around her head, her body all bare before him, hot, beautiful, his.

"– I think I should remind you to who this body belongs to –" He growled, ending his sentence with a deep, brutal thrust, a loud, surprised moan escaping from her throat.

"– you are mine –"

Thrust.

"– mine –"

Thrust.

"– mine –"

Thrust.

"– repeat –"

"– I – I'm yours – I'm yours, forgive me, uncle –" She mumbled out with difficulty and drew in the air loudly as he spread her thighs shamelessly in front of him, looking down at the place where their bodies joined, her entrance clenching against him steadily, leaking with her wetness.

"– I forgive you, sweet wife –" He gasped, recognising this act of grace as an expression of his love and gratitude that she had not betrayed him, that she had returned, that he held her in his arms again.

"– I'll fill you with my seed and it'll be just as it should be –" He exhaled as he watched the perverse sight of their bodies slamming against each other with a loud slaps, his thrusts deep and sure, each time opening her wide on his thick, swollen cock.

He couldn't believe that she had come back to him, that he could smell her wonderful, floral scent again, that she was allowing him to possess her of her own free will.

Her fingers grasped his hand and sank it between her thighs − he felt her direct him to the small bud between her soft folds, she moaned when he touched her there.

"– here, husband – please –" She mewled and moaned loudly, throwing her head back as he began to rub her there, simultaneously caressing her inside and out, her core beginning to pulse greedily against him.

"– gods – stop clenching –" He exhaled with difficulty, rooting into her with quick, brutal thrusts of his hips, stretching her fleshy walls apart with the sticky click of her moisture.

He felt that if he went on like this he would simply come inside her, when he wanted to torment her, to prolong the moment of this immense pleasure and encounter after so many months.

"– I can't – I can't –" She sobbed loudly and he saw her fulfilment in all its glory, her hot, soft flesh went through convulsions, greedily sucking him inside, her lips parted wide in pleasure, her gaze misty and warm.

He cursed loudly, coming inside her so painfully hard that he clenched his eyes shut, panting loudly, rooting into her for a moment longer, the relief and delight that surged through his body was indescribable.

He looked at her beautiful face, her hands on either side of her head, her expression nothing but fulfilment and peace, her breathing uneven and ragged, her breasts rising and falling rapidly.

She looked up at him after a moment and smiled sleepily, raising her hand slowly − her soft fingertips ran over his scarred cheek and he closed his eyes, feeling pleasant, hot squeeze in his heart.

"What is my wife's name?" He asked in a whisper, kissing her warm, small hand, smelling of fresh grass and flowers. He heard her sigh sweetly at his question, her fingers sliding lower, running over his cold lips.

"Persephone."

_____

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