The God King's Obsession | 18+

Chapter 2 • Devour Me

If I was a shadow and you were a street

The cobblestone midnight is where we first meet

Til the lights flickered out, we dance with the moon

Then, I'd just fade into you 

- Matt Jenkins

   His face. 

   Gods, his face.

   Eyes of cold iron armor, in both color and the feeling they perpetuated. They were branded in my mind as I dreamt of him that very first night inside his castle. I lay there, feeling his hands make their way up my body, beginning at my legs, up my sides, and to my breasts. They felt rugged, they felt hard and worn in, but I liked it. I wanted them to touch me everywhere; feel every inch of my body until there was nothing left to discover. 

   I was asleep, I knew I was. However, dancing on the thin line of the delicate veil between the dream world and the waking one, I was able to understand that the delicious sensation I was experiencing was just a dream. One that was fading from my mind with every passing second, building a pressure between my legs that I so desperately wanted to maintain. But morning was calling, beckoning me to wake up. 

   "Please," I sighed out, perhaps in the dream or perhaps in real life. I did not know what I was begging for. Maybe to be touched for a bit longer, or perhaps for him to do something much more permanent to me, something that could not be undone. However, it was this sigh that rewarded me with a different sensation, one that felt much more real. 

   Gentle fingertips slid down the side of my neck, dancing along my collarbone as my hair was brushed to one side. I welcomed the touch, but as I urged my body to escape the clutches of sleep and open my eyes so that I could gaze upon my intruder, I found the room to be empty. 

   There was a chill in the air. The night's wind blew in from the open window by my bedside, showcasing the brilliant, full moon at its highest peak. It was also eerily quiet, with nothing but the faint ticking of an old grandfather clock assuring me I had not gone deaf. 

   Where was I and where was my family?

   Inspecting myself and the room, I found that I still wore the same gown I had arrived in and my trunks neatly stacked upon the other in the very corner of the bedroom. And my, what a bedroom it was. Certainly much larger and much more ornate than I was accustomed to back at home. It seemed this was to be my residence for the time being, while I remained here at the palace. His palace. 

   Remembering my dream, I placed my hand where those fingertips had just been. 

   Still, the touch lingered. 

   Still, I could feel remnants of that sinful pressure between my legs while it slowly faded away. 

   He had done this to me, the God King. In my dreams, no less. And it bothered me that I wished for him to do more. 

   Damn it, if it were not for his face. He was not one's typical definition of handsome. No, the wealthy Lords and Dukes I had come across over the years were a typical manner of handsome; in their well-groomed state with not even a hair out of place, sporting the finest fashions and flashing their boyish smiles. The God King, however, was something else indeed. His handsomeness was masculine and daunting, hidden behind faded scars of war and dark facial hair. One had to look past his frighteningly large stature of well-built muscles and height reflective of his time serving on the battlefield; and a demeanor that demanded obedience to see it. But when you were able to make out the beauty that hid behind the carnage, it was striking.