Chapter 2-3

I found myself in a courtyard, one modeled on King Ramana’s palace, I presumed. The stonework was gorgeous, carved with exquisite reliefs, and flowering vines grew in profusion over every surface. They filled the air with their honeyed fragrance, spilling from an overgrown fountain. The font of her mana.

I could tell immediately that I was not in my own form. I had taken on the identity of someone from Sati’s inner world. Considering how I had slipped in, the most surprising aspect of this was that the apsara manifested another person in her inner world at all. Most sorcerers used inanimate props, or animals at the most complex. I’d never met an experienced sorcerer who personified an aspect of their own personality.

I was seated on a plush couch, its leather upholstery was somehow softer than silk, and felt like resting on a cloud. Sati herself was beside me, not seated beside me, but laying with her head upon my lap. She was clad in nothing but a sheer silk veil, leaving her generous figure fully visible through the cloth. Oddly enough, her face was the only thing I wasn’t able to perceive clearly.

Idly I stroked her hair through the silk, allowing the persona I inhabited to guide my actions. The former princess shifted, stretching languorously and pressing her head into my hand. It reminded me of Myta, when I combed out her hair. Comfortable, but also sensual.

“Your defenses need work, little flower.” The voice that fell from my lips was low and rich. I’d heard it before, but couldn’t place it immediately.

“Please,” Sati scoffed. “That petty man has no hope of touching my soul. He’s no threat or challenge to an apsara.”

I kept my expression still, gazing across the courtyard rather than down at my companion. Her tone and emotions jarred me. While she was dismissive and arrogant, there was an unexpected undercurrent of disappointment to her words.

“Perhaps,” I replied. “But the Pure filth did. The binding on you is proof enough of that. Where one has passed, others may surely follow. Do not allow this mistake to stand.”

I reached over, resting my hand over her core. The mandala imprinted in my palm flared, resonating with the one engraved into her spirit. It burned my skin, not painfully, but with heat and pressure. And I knew that it affected her in the same way.

“Yes, sir.” Sati squirmed, trying to wriggle away from my hand, but I moved it from her abdomen to her collarbones, pinning her in place.

“Daddy!?” She grabbed my wrist, surprised by my strength. I looked down into her eyes, and I knew from the reflections on her skin that my eyes were blazing with silver light, and not the rainbow sheen that King Ramana would display.

“You have become blinded by your own expectations. Certain of your superiority to everyone around you. You are no longer in the palace, Sati. You must open your eyes to what is really around you.” I kept my voice firm, but not angry. I sympathized with her, honestly. It had been a long time ago, but I still remembered how hard it was to reassess your entire understanding of the world.

As she finally processed my presence, I could see fear beginning to creep into Sati’s eyes. I could feel it rising as well, her emotions flowing to me with a steady trickle of tainted mana. Her soul sickness might be pervasive, but apparently it wasn’t quite as deeply rooted as Myta’s had been. I wanted to leave her unbalanced, willing to question her certainties, but I had no desire to cause her any extra, unnecessary distress.

With a wry smile, I slipped from her mental world, leaving the apsara with her thoughts.

When I returned to my own inner world, I found myself drawn back to waking almost immediately. Rather than a peaceful night as I’d expected, my body was being shaken about. I blinked in the darkness, disoriented and confused. I was pinned to the ground, unable to move due to the restraint of my wrists and hips. It took me a few moments to realize that Myta was on top of me, straddling my hips and pressing my wrists to the bedroll as she rode me.

She was moaning, the same exaggerated moans she had made when we ‘performed’ in front of Hati. Not fake, exactly. I knew she was enjoying herself, and her enjoyment fed back into mine. But her hoarse moans were extra breathy, extra loud, and I could feel that her attention was aimed as much toward Sati’s bedroll as it was to our joining.

Her sex was blazing hot, and incredibly wet, my hard shaft already buried inside her. Her thighs flexed to raise her up, her knees planted to either side of me, only to drop her full weight down on me. Each descent pulled another moan from my flame, as her hips rotated, rubbing my cock around the inside of her channel. And with each moan I could feel a little spark of nervous, guilty, excitement from her. She wasn’t just passively waiting for Sati to hear us, she wanted to actively display our lovemaking.

I growled, twisting my hands to grab my lover’s wrists. Stealing just enough of her strength away so that she couldn’t resist. Roughly, I yanked her hands down between us. It pulled her down atop me, putting her head next to mine.

“Wicked.” I snarled in her ear, nipping her earlobe. “You didn’t ask me, or our guest, for permission to put on a show.”

“She woke up before you did.” Myta didn’t even try to stay quiet, as she cast a sly smile toward the curtain dividing the tent. “Our princess can leave whenever she wants. As for you, master. Whatever will you do with a wicked ****?”

I grunted, surging forward. I might not have the physical abilities of a more martially-inclined sorcerer, but my body was still more than fit enough to reverse our positions. In seconds she was on her back, her knees draped over my thighs as I sat on my heels. My shaft rubbing directly against her flower.

“I’ll do what I always do,” I growled. “Whatever I want. If you want something special, my flame, you need to ask for it.”

I pinched and mauled her thighs, causing her to yelp and moan excitedly. Myta consistently loved that sort of blunt, rough handling. She went to rub her pearl, but I smacked her hand away even as I rocked my hips. Rubbing my cock against her wet heat. Her guttural groan of need made me grin.

“Please master! Don’t tease me like that! Fuck me, and use me to spend your desire.” She met my eyes with a heavily lidded gaze, and her expression was one part needy and one part possessive. “You can’t say that I’m not completely yours anymore.”

I thought about protesting, a knee jerk reaction to defend my reticence. But that was the last thing she needed, and the last thing that either of us wanted. Her soul was healed now, and she was right. There was no place or need in our relationship now for equivocation.

Instead, I wrapped my right hand around her throat, using my left to guide myself into her eager depths. With a single, violent thrust, I hilted my shaft inside her. My voice came out in a low groan of satisfaction. Whatever words I thought to speak disappeared when I met her eyes. They were unnecessary, superfluous in the face of our shared emotions. Our sense of rightness and belonging.

Myta was mine, fully and in truth, just as I was hers.

I began to thrust into her, hard and slow. Her hands were free now, and her fingers scrabbled at my shoulders, clawing bloody furrows in my skin. It wasn’t the first time we’d lay together since resolving the incident at Bani, but it was by far the most intense. I used my hand on her neck as leverage, tightening my grip at each thrust. Restricting her voice to strangled grunts each time I drove myself home.

A loud moan drew my attention, although it didn’t divert me from my task. It was high pitched, and strangled off at the end. Not from me, or my flame, but from the other side of the curtain.

Now that my attention was drawn to it, I could feel Sati over our bond, a bond that had become deeper with my visit to her inner world. It still wasn’t enough to perceive her thoughts, but I could feel her attention. Her confused desire, and rising pleasure. I wasn’t sure how long the apsara had been focused on us, but she was riveted to the sight, pleasuring herself to our rough fucking.

Feeling wicked myself, I held off my climax. One of the benefits of my strong spirit and long experience was a near perfect control of my body. I grabbed Myta’s wrist, pulling her hand down between us. Not needing any further prompting, she began rubbing her pearl, resuming the pleasure I’d kept from her earlier. The sounds of her strangled cries soon took on a new and **** urgency.

I sped the pace of my hips, wet slaps resounding in the tent as I drove my vas quickly toward her first climax. When it hit, I pushed her through it and right into another as I was wont to do. Her hand fled from her sex as though stung, and grasped the bedroll beneath us. The padding bunched up in her fists as she beat at the ground.

Sati’s emotions came through clearly for a moment as I pushed Myta through another peak. Shock, lust, and envy all compounded together. The apsara cried out loudly as she found her own release, unable to even try suppressing the noise. I ignored it, instead letting my own climax hit. Snarling, as I spent myself within my lover.

Replete with satisfaction, Myta and I cuddled up on the bedroll. I held her as she shuddered through her aftershocks, petting her hair as we listened to Sati’s quieting moans.

“Yes, my love.” I finally muttered in her ear. “You are all mine now. Body and soul.”