Exquisite Poison (Original Draft)

Chapter 55 - The Last of His Court

They hadn't wasted a moment, even in the eternity created in a second's prison.

Netta, emboldened by the assurance of Ashwood as her husband - and taking no small thrilling joy in the sheer taboo of their union - finally did as she had longed to do. She felt stronger in her desire with each loving touch, each hushed assurance whispered in her ear.

She tasted his flesh everywhere, thrilled at the electric sensation that her tongue gave, sensing where his illusion of a physical form stopped. He tasted of Earth and not unpleasantly of ozone, as though he were the leftovers of a clap of lightening.

She flicked her tongue over the puckering curves of one of his nipples, felt a thrill of joy at his surprised moan, then returned for another go before laving at the other one on his broad chest.

They did everything that Netta had ever hoped of doing with her exotic lover, with Ash asking at first aloud and then in their minds what she wanted to do next at each turn.

The fact that with each ensuing act built onto an unbreakable bind between them that was well above and beyond what was considered safe for a Witch - it made each one feel more dangerous, lust-fulfilling to Netta.

And then they went into territory that Ash lead her, willingly, into.

The only trouble being that with each new go, she found a hunger more yawning than when she had begun.

She never thought that it would ever end, gentle, crazed, shocking, tender - each one seemed to reflect some aspect of their personalities. Fucking, love-making, sometimes falling into an embrace that never seemed to end as they shook in each other's bodies, minds.

And then in a moment, they both collasped on the red sheets on the massive four-poster that they had expended their wedding energy on.

It was Ash who spoke first, apparently too weakened to speak aloud. Nettles, please tell me you're tired. I cannot be held responsible if I faint on top of you. Even in her head, his voice sounded haggard, but relieved. Deeply relieved.

Netta, who had collasped herself facedown, managed to lift her head up to look at her husband's own still form.

Ash lay on his back, his penis for the first time during their time in the bed flagging, exhausted looking.

She crept to Ash's, throwing an arm over his chest.

She felt him tense, then heard him say, Gah - I hope you're alright with my hands and mouth - it's not as though I'm not willing, eager, even -

Netta dropped her head onto the crook of Ash's neck, allowed herself the luxury of feeling his near-burning skin on her naked flesh, pressed against hers. Their shared smell - coating her body as well - seemed to float into the air like motes.

"I'm tired, too, Ash, so stop with the bravado."

Ash sighed, then she felt a low humming start in the back of his throat. Are you wanting to go back, yet?

Netta shifted on him, trying to press her skin as closely as she could to Ash's. She was rewarded when he flopped a lifeless arm around her.

"Oh, not yet. Please."

No need to ask anything of me, Master.

"Even as a joke - don't call me that. Or Lovely."

Ash shifted slightly underneath her, and she looked up at his face to see him looking down at her, slowly managing to recline on his other arm.