In Her Eras Era Pt. 3

The room feels quieter now, save for the sounds of your breathing and the soft clink of metal as your fingers move to unbuckle Marcus’s belt. The air between you is thick, heated, and you can feel the weight of Luna’s presence taking control once more, pulling you forward into the moment. Every second heightens her need, a desire that’s not yours but still floods your senses. It’s like being pulled under by a strong current, and no matter how much you want to fight it, Luna won’t let you.

Your fingers fumble slightly at the buckle, and her impatience surges through you like a spark.

Hurry up, don’t tease him like this. I want him to want this. I want him to lose control.

It’s almost instinctual now—the way you move, the way you lower yourself. You try to swallow down the feeling of disgust clawing up your throat as you realize exactly where this is going. The logical part of you, the part still aware of the plan, reminds you that this is for the trial, that you’re getting closer to Aphrodite’s finish line, that every step counts. But that thought is barely audible, drowned out by the overwhelming influence of Luna’s perspective. She doesn’t care about the finish line right now. She’s focused entirely on Marcus.

You feel his hands rest on your shoulders, his anticipation a palpable energy as he watches you, his eyes darkened with desire. It makes your skin prickle, your stomach twist with a queasy blend of apprehension and repulsion. But Luna—she doesn’t hesitate. She craves this moment, she relishes the way he reacts to her, to you.

This is perfect. Just where I want him. He’s completely at my mercy.

The thought, so completely hers, makes you shudder, but there’s nothing you can do as her excitement courses through you, igniting every nerve with a strange warmth. You can feel yourself slipping further, losing the sense of “you” in her intentions. The more control she takes, the harder it becomes to remember why you’re doing this in the first place.

Her hands move with confidence, nimble fingers pulling his belt free, and you can feel her satisfaction, her own exhilaration at how close she is to getting what she wants. There’s a pull, a tug deep inside that’s almost euphoric, her delight filling your chest, radiating outward.

He’s mine. Just the way I like it.

The thought rings in your mind, and for a split second, a flicker of you comes through—a reminder of why you’re here, why you’re letting this happen. You know it’s the only way to move forward, but it doesn’t stop the wave of nausea building inside you, the repulsion you feel every time she loses herself in this new identity, this new purpose. But despite the revulsion, there’s a twisted, **** satisfaction in seeing the plan move forward. You’re one step closer.

Her hands slide lower, her focus unwavering. You can feel her thoughts humming in pleasure, thrilled by the dominance, by the way Marcus looks at you, how he’s lost in her—lost in you.

And as her satisfaction swells, it fills every inch of your awareness, leaving only the faintest, distant memory of who you are and why you’re here. You’re close to the end of the trial—closer than you’ve ever been.

The sound of your own breathing fills your ears as you look up at Marcus, his anticipation etched across his face. You can feel Luna’s excitement buzzing in your chest, drowning out everything else, her eagerness pushing you forward even though a part of you wants to pull back, wants to hesitate. But that part feels muted now, a distant echo compared to the vivid, overwhelming presence of Luna.

Your fingers move on their own as she urges you to slip beneath the fabric of his waistband, freeing him from the confines of his jeans. You can feel her satisfaction surge through you, almost electric, her thoughts vivid and undeniable.

Look at him. All mine. Exactly where I want him.

The thought sends a wave of heat through you, even as the other part of you flinches, torn between revulsion and resignation. The weight of her intentions presses down on you, making it harder and harder to hold onto yourself. But you remind yourself of the trial, of the goal. You’re one step closer to breaking the curse, one step closer to freedom. That thought should be comforting, but it’s hard to focus on it when Luna’s exhilaration is overwhelming, filling every part of you.

You can feel her delight as her fingers wrap around him, firm and confident, drawing a sharp breath from Marcus. The sound sends a thrill through her, igniting a satisfaction that drowns out any of your lingering resistance. She’s completely in her element, completely in control, and every move she makes feels like a step further away from you.

This is exactly what he wants. Exactly what I want.

That thought resonates deep within you, pulling you further under, and for a moment, you can barely remember why you would want to resist. Her desires, her pleasure, all of it floods your senses, blurring the line between who you are and who she wants to be.

He’s so into this, she thinks, and the simple thought makes her smile.

Marcus lets out a quiet groan, his voice low, rough, setting her pulse thrumming. She can’t help but run her fingers along him, savoring the way he feels under her touch, warm and solid, his breathing already heavy.

He lets out a shaky exhale. “You…you’re something else,” he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. His tone is enough to make her smirk, feeling the power she holds in her hands.

I love how he looks at me, she thinks, a pleasant warmth flooding through her. She’s fully present, aware of every detail, every sound and shift, taking pride in each of his reactions as if they’re hers alone.

“You like that?” she murmurs softly, her voice teasing as her lips press against his length, a thrill of excitement coursing through her.

Marcus’s response is a quiet groan, his fingers threading into your hair as he nods. “God, yes…”

The taste is unfamiliar, but she welcomes it, leaning into it. Luna moves slowly, savoring each inch as if it’s something precious, the warmth of him filling her mouth as she begins, each movement deliberate and steady. Her thoughts are simple, in sync with the rhythm she’s found, her mind attuned to the way he reacts, every subtle shift as he breathes out her name, his voice rough with desire.

She moves with purpose, her every thought focused on making him respond, enjoying every tremor, every low groan that escapes his lips. Feels so good, she thinks, each sensation folding into her, making her more certain, more absorbed. His hand tightens in your hair, urging her on, and she revels in it, letting herself be pulled closer, her focus sharpening as she finds a rhythm.

“Yeah, just like that…” he murmurs, his voice growing husky. His tone makes her shiver, filling her with a satisfaction that borders on intoxicating. _He’s so tasty, _she thinks, smiling to herself as she continues, her gaze flicking up to meet his for just a moment, his pleasure obvious in his expression.

There’s a part of you that registers it all—the taste, the warmth, the closeness—and that part of you stirs with something like ****, a sense of disconnect that’s almost jarring compared to her focus. But it’s hard to hold onto that feeling; Luna is too absorbed in the way he responds, each sound he makes, every gentle tug on her hair drawing her deeper into the moment.

Her thoughts are a constant, steady flow. This is perfect. Exactly how it should feel.

You feel her lose herself entirely in the rhythm, her lips moving smoothly, guided by instinct and her own growing sense of confidence. And though you’re aware of yourself, it’s as though you’re watching her from a distance, observing her contentment and her pleasure as if through a hazy window.

His grip tightens, and he lets out a shaky moan. “You’re… incredible,” he says softly, his voice filled with awe, making her pulse race in response.

Her thoughts flutter with pleasure at his words. That’s right… keep looking at me like that, she thinks, barely able to contain her satisfaction.

You take him in slowly, your tongue tracing along the underside as you do, feeling every curve and ridge, tasting the faint salt of his skin. A soft groan escapes him, and you revel in the sound, the way it spurs you on.

As you begin to move, your pace is deliberately slow, each movement precise and unhurried, designed to keep him on edge. You let your lips slide down further, feeling the slight stretch as you take more of him, your tongue swirling in gentle circles. His hand tightens in your hair, and he lets out a shaky breath, the control in his posture faltering. “God… you’re amazing,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

I know I am, you think, a flush of pride mingling with the thrill of his reaction. Luna finds herself absorbed in every sensation, every tiny movement, taking him deeper, letting her lips and tongue explore every inch. She shifts slightly, adjusting her angle to draw him in deeper still, feeling his entire body tense beneath her touch.

He groans again, low and deep, his fingers threading through your hair, guiding you, his breaths growing heavier. “You feel… incredible,” he whispers, his voice barely steady.

You pause, letting him slip free of your mouth just enough to murmur, “Oh? Think you can handle more?” There’s a smirk on your lips as you tease, not waiting for a response before taking him in again, deeper, letting his reaction guide you. His hips shift slightly, a reflexive movement toward you, and you revel in his surrender, the power of making him lose control.

His breaths are ragged now, his hands trembling slightly as he keeps his hold on you, barely able to keep from pulling you closer, deeper. “You’re going to drive me crazy…” he murmurs, his voice thick with urgency.

I like the sound of that, she thinks, grinning inwardly as she works him with increasing rhythm, her movements fluid and sure. You let yourself get lost in the sensation, each touch, each brush of your lips and tongue, feeling the way he shudders, how close he is to the edge.

His gaze is almost too much, dark with desire, every look urging her to keep going, to push him just a little further. There’s a pause, and he leans down a little closer. “You’d make me a very happy man if you… let me take this further.”

The suggestion lingers between you, loaded and bold. A part of Luna flutters with excitement, a thrill sparking at the thought of it, but as the idea floats through her, she can feel that slight, grounding influence again—you, nudging her thoughts just enough to keep her from giving in entirely.

She pauses, letting her lips linger just close enough to make him ache with want, and then she pulls back slowly, giving him a soft, mischievous look, tilting her head. “Oh, Marcus,” she whispers, her tone sweet yet laced with playful defiance. “This is only our first date.”

The look of surprise on his face makes her smile, a pleased gleam in her eye as she takes in his reaction. He stares at you for a moment, slightly thrown, but then a slow, admiring grin crosses his face. “Playing hard to get, are we?”

She shrugs lightly, feigning an innocent look. “I just think some things are worth waiting for… don’t you?”

His chuckle is low and rough, and the sound of it sends a shiver down your spine. “You’re something else,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing through your hair in slow, appreciative strokes.

Got you wrapped around my finger, she thinks, her gaze smoldering as she leans forward again, resuming her movements with deliberate precision.

Marcus groans deeply, his hands tightening in your hair as he struggles to hold himself together. “God… you’re perfect…”

The words make her heart race, the thrill of knowing she has him teetering on the edge fueling her confidence. She picks up her pace, her focus entirely on the reactions she’s pulling from him—every hitch in his breath, every groan of pleasure.

His hands grip your head more firmly now, guiding her with an urgency that makes her pulse quicken. “I’m so close…” he murmurs, his voice strained. “You’re gonna make me…”

The tension builds, his breaths coming faster and faster, and Luna can feel the anticipation radiating off him in waves. She doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, her every movement driving him closer and closer to the edge.

And then, with a low, guttural groan, he tenses, his hands clutching at your hair as he reaches his peak, emptying his sticky salty creamy load in your mouth. His body shudders, and his voice breaks into a soft, breathless moan as he collapses against the couch, utterly spent.

Luna pulls back slightly, glancing up at him with a satisfied smirk as she instinctively swallows the load, her lips curving into a knowing smile. Told you I could handle it, she thinks, reveling in the moment.

But deep within, you’re already trying to shove her satisfaction aside, reminding yourself why you’re here, why this matters - because it's the only way you can justify swallowing another man's cum. One step closer to ending this curse, you think, clinging to that thought as she brushes her hair back and sits up, ready for whatever comes next.