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Moros had been waiting for Melinoë to return from her latest attempt. All night, he could think of nothing but her. Her mismatched eyes, her devilish smile, her voluptuous body and curves… They are not an item, they are Gods after all, but they do enjoy each other’s company when they feel lonely, or pent up, or both.
As he was losing himself in past memories, he hears her light footsteps approaching. From afar, he can see she has bath salts in one hand, her trusted sister blades at her belt. She seems tired when she arrives in front of him.
“Goodnight, Lord Moros,” she regains her composure, standing a little straighter than she was. “Care to join me for a bath… and maybe more?” Mischief flashes through her eyes.
Moros can feel his cock twitch, already interested.
“Goodnight, Melinoë,” he answers in kind. “Of course. Lead the way.”
They walk side by side, chatting about her latest attempt, yet their hearts are not in it. Moros knows this is just filling time before what they truly want comes.
The water is hot, relaxing. They stand feet apart, washing themselves separately. No words are exchanged, just the splashing sounds of the water echo in the springs. Moros dares to look away from his own body after a moment and is greeted by one of his favourite sight.
Melinoë is standing in front of him, washing her arms. He can see her chest, her toned abs, and her hips. His cock twitches again, this time almost fully hard. He cannot keep away, and he comes closer. The Goddess follows him with his eyes. When he puts his hands on her hips, she shudders with impatience.
“What are you waiting for, Lord?” Her tone is daring, yet she tries to hide it behind some false innocence.
Moros does not wait any longer to press his body against her, their lips connecting. The kiss is not gentle, they both are hungry for the same thing, thirsting for way too long. His hand go down on her cheeks, squeezing them. Melinoë answers by shifting her hips, grinding against his thigh. They both moan at the sensation.
“Let’s get out of there,” Doom instructs more than proposes. They exit the springs almost naked, clothes in their arms, almost running to get to Melinoë’s tent.
They find themselves in there, bodies not even half dry, clothes discarded on the floor. The Witch lets herself plop on the soft mattress, her round breasts bouncing as she did. Moros cannot move, still completely hypnotised by her nakedness. Nudity is expected in the baths, yes, but in a more intimate setting? He feels his cock harden even more, slightly leaking at the tip. Lips feeling dry, his tongue passes over them. On the bed, Melinoë seems like a dessert, ready to be eaten.
"My Lord," she says, hands delicately touching her body. “Why don’t you come down here?"
Her plea awakens Doom incarnate from his state of stupor. In two long strides he is at the foot of the bedding. In one movement he is over Melinoë, kissing her hard. She feels hot under him, his hands cupping her breasts, playing with the nipples. Small moans escape her mouth, and he swallows them all. His fangs play with her bottom lip, his tongue taking possession of her mouth. Moros’ body is all over her, and he likes the feel of it. He wants to taste everything she has to offer, everything.
His hands grow tired of her chest, and settle on her hips. Without stopping kissing her, his right hand goes further down, to her mound. After centuries of life, Moros knows how to make a woman, a goddess sing and mewl of desire. His long fingers easily find Melinoë’s clit, gently rubbing it in circular motion. She slightly yelps at the contact, and Doom incarnate has never heard more arousing sounds. She slightly jitters, trying to dictate how things should go, something he will not have this night.
"Ask, Melinoë," he whispers in her ear, hands withdrawing from her body. She moans the absence, and tries to close her legs. Too bad his knees keep them open. "If you don’t behave, we’ll have to stop."
"So-sorry," her breath is laboured, heavy. "I’ll obey now, please!"
Not exactly the answer he was looking for, but it’ll have to do. As his thumb resumes contact, his fangs scrap her neck. Such beautiful white skin, would be a shame for it to get marked by his teeth. She gasps at the touch, and nearly screams when two fingers enter her.
Her entrance is so wet, the fingers slip in without any resistance. Moros feels his cock jolt, liking very much the idea that he could enter her right now. Yet, it is not the time. As he begins to move inside her, pumping against the walls, searching for her spot, his thumb relentlessly rubs her clit. She yelps and moans, mewls and whimpers as his movement get more and more intense. Moros is absolutely delighted, and goes on to gently bite her neck.
The Princess of the Underworld’s body in nothing but putty in his hands, attacked by pleasure on multiple fronts. Moros can feel her tighten around his fingers, she mustn’t be too far from climax. He adds a third finger, receiving another wild moan from his partner, and starts scissoring them. Melinoë feels even wetter, slick gushing out from her, dripping on the sheets. When he can wiggle his fingers freely inside her, he starts pumping again, leaving her clit alone.
With this new angle, he can aim a little batter at her pleasure spot, pressing against it at each pass. The Witch jitters even more under him, almost shagging herself on his fingers. It must feel so good for her, spread like that on the bedding, fingerpicked within inches of her life. She clenches even more around him, almost spasm. She is close, and Moros easy out his fingers.
“Lord Moros!“ She cries in frustration, eyes opened, accusatory.
“On your knees, face down,” he instructs, licking her slick from his fingers. Her taste is addictive, he wants to savour it every night for the rest of his immortal life.
Melinoë is quick to follow through with the instructions. Her head is pressed on the pillows, knees far apart, hands keeping her butt cheeks spread. From this angle, Moros can see her holes. Her cunt is dripping wet, shiny, her asshole tight and pinkish. His dick slightly move at the thought that, for the entire night, they will be together. He gets on his knees, hands guiding Melinoë's ass to his mouth. The position is slightly awkward as he runs his tongue on her folds, collecting slick.
His tongue is wetter now, in the perfect condition for what he wants to do next. The Goddess moans as he leaves her cunt, and nearly cries when her other hole becomes the centre of attention. Moros laps it, lubricating it. His tongue gently pokes the ring of muscle, feeling how it relaxes over time.
“Oh, Lord Moros!” Melinoë almost screams as her body finally gives in. “Please, I… More!”
Doom smiles at her loosing her mind. His tongue thrusts in her tight hole, curiously poking at the walls. He can feel it clenching, trying to mould the form of his tongue. Wondering briefly how tight that hole must feel around his cock, Moros let’s himself be lost in the feeling of pleasuring someone, relishing in the feeling that he is responsible for the moans and shaky knees.
“Keep yourself open for me,” he groans as the Goddess executes.
One of his hands grows curious too, fingers wandering down south, to her cunt again. As his tongue resumes its expedition, two fingers go back in that wet heat. Moros is a little out of practice with this position, his fingers not quite coordinated with his tongue.
“Oh Moros!” Melinoë cries, completely stimulated. “Oh Gods!”
Her holes clench around him uncontrollably. Doom can feel his fingers poking at the membrane separating them from his tongue. The feeling is intoxicating, and he applies more pressure on her cunt. Slick slightly gushes out again, her cunt and asshole over no resistance now. Her knees are fully shaking. This time, Moros doesn’t shy away from her orgasm.
“I’m, oh!” She doesn’t speak, letting out a long moan.
Wetness drips out of her cunt, both her holes clenching so hard Moros thinks she wants to cut his parts off. He can feel the pleasure pulsating through her, making his cock ache at the lack of touch. His tongue switches to lapping, his fingers lazily pumping her juices out. Melinoë rides the high, moaning her heart out.
“Mmh…” She lets out, hands falling on the covers. “Please…”
Moros knows what she is asking. It is not their fist tango after all. His fingers retreat, and he gets on his knees again. His hands go on her hips, helping her keep the position. His cock, resting against his stomach, twitches again.
One of his hands align her cunt with his penis. Without any ceremony, he enters her. Melinoë moans as the head goes in, her body welcoming the new sensations. Even after all the fingerpicking, she feels tight around Moros. It is an open secret amongst the Gods that Doom incarnates girth is impressive, even if his length is normal. It works well for him, since Melinoë’s preferences are just that.
Inch by inch, Moros pushing thought, until his balls rest against her mound. He knows he has to let the Goddess adjust to the feeling. His fingers go to her folds, collecting some slick, before going further up. As he feels her relaxing around his cock, his thumb circles her asshole, putting little pressure.“M-Moros…” Melinoë moans, her hips moving on their own volition.
It’s the signal he had been waiting for. His hips start to thrust, pulling out halfway before going back it. His thumb enters her other hole, moving in circles. The Goddess’ knees begin to shake again, but Moros disregards it. He has enough strength to keep her up with only one hand.
She feels so hot and wet around him, his cock sliding in and out effortlessly. It makes them both moan, both enjoying what the other has to offer. Doom incarnate isn’t known for his patience, especially if he has been pleasuring his partner for a while. His thrusts gain in power, fully pulling out, then slamming back in. He knows his cock rubs her g spot, his thumb creates more pressure in her.
“More! Oh Gods, it feels so good!”
Moros loves it when Melinoë is vocal. His thrusts again in precision, albeit loose in speed. His thumb is replaces by two fingers, scissoring her ass as if he wanted to fill her there too. She moans at each push, her body lax between Moros’ hands. She tightens around him again, and Doom knows he won’t be able to take much longer.
He thrusts and thrusts in her, now almost laying on top of her. His fingers are now playing with her clit, who is slippery from all the wetness. The sounds their bodies make are indecent, yet music to their ears. He toys with her, taking his pleasure from feeling her clench hard.
“Oh- Oh- Oh-” She moans at each pass. “Lord Moros, I think I-”
Doom pinches her clit, burring himself hard and deep in her. He can feel the orgasm hitting her like an earthquake: the only one keeping her up is him. She cries, buries her face in the pillow to scream her pleasure. She tightens tight, putting Moros so close to the edge. He wants to see her face when he comes, wants to kiss her when he feels her with his seed.
Without waiting further, he pulls out and flips her over. Melinoë moans at the loss, and moans again when he enters her. With her knees at her head, Moros is able to go even deeper. He thrusts hard while she rides her high for the second time this evening. His breath is ragged, he is close, oh so close!
“Lord Moros, it’s almost too much…” Her words are almost whispers, yet her eyes are filled with desire.
Melinoë cups his face, pressing their lips together. It is all it takes for Moros to loose his rhythm. Burring himself deep in her cunt, he lets himself go over the edge. His orgasm doesn’t take him by surprise, but it is stronger than he expected. He can feel his cock pulsing while the Goddess clenches around him. His hips jerk forward, his seed almost spilling out.
They both moan, Moros panting on her neck. When he is confident he has emptied himself, he carefully pulls out. His cock is half soft, but his balls are spend. Melinoë’s eyes focus on it, a pleasure-ridden smile on her face.
“Clean me and I’ll clean you?” Her eyes are mischievous, her thirst unquenchable.
Moros moans at the thought, before opening her knees again, diving straight for her hole. He laps his seeds out of her, her sights only encouraging him. They fluids mixed do not taste as bad as he had feared when they first started mingling together. It is pleasant enough for him.
Looking up, he sees that she had closed her eyes, totally mellowed. A smirk crawls on his lips. Moros goes for her clit, red and swollen from such pleasure, and sucks on it, hard. Melinoë cries, surprised and overstimulated. His fingers are pumping his seed out of her, making them brush past her g spot.
“Too, too much! It’s too much!” She cries, and Moros stops.
As she catches her breath again, it’s her turn to get on her knees. The Goddess pushes him over, her mouth going around his cock. She sucks on the head and whatever length she can fit, putting as much pressure as she can without her teeth touching the soft skin. Her hands cup Moros’ balls, playing with them.
Pleasure washes over Doom incarnate. Her expert tongue is making him see stars, his toes curl. It seems as if his orgasm is back, yet he knows he won’t be able to go again in such a short time. His cock tries to harden, but it cannot go past half-mast. Her lips creates such a tight fit that he is afraid she is trying to suck his life out of him. As she bobs her head, he begins to feel it coming again.
It has never happened to him before.
“Melinoë!” Moros cries, unsure of what’s happening in his body.
The Goddess’ hands goes from his nut-sack to his hole. With her thumb putting pressure there and her sucking almost all his cock, Moros feels his orgasm come again. Weak spurts come out of him, small enough for Melinoë to be able to swallow them. He can feel his head turn, losing total control over his breath and heart. The phantom promise that she could enter him, as they have done before, is the cherry on top.
“You- you have sucked me enough, dear,” Doom incarnate finally lets out.
As she pulls away, a string of saliva connect her lips to the tip of his cock. The sight is so arousing, so stimulating, that he sits up, connecting their lips again.
They lazily make out, tongues gently dancing with each other, riding the pleasant feeling two orgasms have brought them. They do not feel the exhaustion until it is too late, and they are falling asleep in each other’s arms.