XXXV

It didn't take much to coax Lydia into the spring. The tropical climate quickly warmed her ocean-chilled flesh. Simultaneously, her husband's tender urgings heated her from the inside out. Once he had her fully inside and seated in his lap, she relaxed completely, eyes closing and head lolling back to rest against his chest. His hands never stopped their roaming all throughout the process, not once. Rough palms lightly mapped out her silhouette, fascinated by the way the tiny bumps on her satiny flesh smoothed as she acclimated to the heat, turning buttery again beneath his fingertips. Ragged nails drew a line up her belly from her hipbone. This caused her to shudder and sink deeper into him, legs drifting apart.

Smoothly- as though he were doing it to unwind from a long day- he shifted, leaning his weight against the back of the pool and drawing a knee up, right between her parted legs. There was a hitch in her breath when the scratchy material of his trousers pressed on her nether regions. She recoiled a bit before repositioning herself against him torturously, hind end cushioned on his groin. When one of his hands began its lazy descent down the side of her body she joined him in exploring, tiny fingers running a line of their own along the sopping wet material of his suit.

"I don't think there are any monsters in here... None that need scaring, anyway."

The hoarse, cheeky quip was all the prompting he needed. In an instant, he was just as bare as she. In truth, he hadn't even thought about disrobing, too preoccupied with feeling up his wife. However, he very quickly realized that shedding his clothes so soon was probably not the best idea. Lydia reveled in his nudity. She turned her cheek to press against the wiry hair on his chest. Soft curves slid against him, curiously testing the newly exposed flesh. One arm banded around her, grasping her hip and stilling her as best he could. His free hand, unable to help itself, slid from her outer thigh to her inner. Involuntarily, his previously light touches increased in pressure.

The stubborn nymph refused to be still and continued grinding her perfect ass against his painfully hard cock. "Baby," he growled warningly into the top of her head. The arm around her middle tightened as his hips disobeyed his orders and rocked up, making his shaft slide between her cheeks. "Can't keep movin' like that," he rasped, forcing himself not to repeat humping the motion. "S'drivin' me crazy. You're not ready-"

"I am!" She insisted, rebelliously continuing her gyrations and preparing for an argument.

"That's not what m' talkin' about," he cut in before she could go on. Finally, the roaming hand between her thighs ventured close enough to stroke her folds. The rough pads of his fingers brushed along her delicate lips, careful not to part them. A tiny whimper escaped and she pressed the side of her face closer to his chest. "You're not ready."

"Oh," she faltered in realization, feeling childish and immature. Obediently, she halted all movement.

"Good girl," he purred in response, arm around her waist slackening so that he could free his other hand to fondle her breasts. Her arms, needing to do something other than float there, came up over her head to wrap around his neck.

"I'm not a do- og-" The end of the sentence stumbled when he unexpectedly pinched her nipple. It might have been painful if it didn't feel so damn good.

"I know," he drawled, still lightly running his fingertips along her petal-soft lower lips. "You're more like a lil pussycat," he drew out the provocative word as if its double meaning wasn't already achingly obvious. "Runnin' around causin' mischief, gettin' yourself in all kinds o' trouble. I oughta get you a collar n' lock you up indoors where ya can't get inta nothin'." Though his voice held a teasing lilt, the nefarious suggestion had more than once crossed his mind during the first few days of their marriage. Higher reasoning- not to mention his crippling inability to deny her anything- saved her from such a fate.

Lydia did not need to know any of this.

"Beej," she whined, flustered. The mental images he was painting for her with his lewd threat, paired with his teasingly subdued strokes, hindered her ability to formulate a decent comeback. "Please," she breathed, leaning her hips into his hand.

"Please what?" He called back softly, barely more than a whisper, while keeping up his frustrating rhythm.

"Please touch me," she breathed out harshly, begging.

A secret, triumphant grin was flashed down at her raven crown. "I am touchin' you," he assured, patronizingly innocent.

"Betelgeeuuse," she moaned with a combination of pleasure and indignation, unintentionally arching against him in the way he had explicitly told her not to. He didn't have the fortitude to stop her this time. "Please! I want- I need- I can't-"

"Tell me what ya need, baby." The hushed, gruff quality of his demand gave away his own longing. The hand that was lovingly massaging her breasts- switching back and forth between the soft, floating mounds indiscriminately- plucked her nipple once more, sharply.

"Make me-" she hesitated, biting her lip bashfully. "Make me... cum. Please." The dirty word was softly spoken, barely audible. It was almost enough to make him blow his load right then and there. Eager to obey, he pressed down on her, allowing his middle finger to slip between her folds and brush her pearl. That was all it took. Suddenly, she was letting out broken, high-pitched cries, enthusiastically rocking her hips back and forth to ride the oncoming waves of pleasure. The unexpected display was too much for him. With a guttural groan, he grabbed hold of her hips and helped her along, thrusting against her soft, creamy flesh to increase the intensity of his own orgasm.

"Did you...?" She queried once they were both motionless again, suddenly aware of how heavily he was breathing.

"Yeah," he choked out, head falling back to rest on the edge of the steaming pond as he came down from the aftershocks of his peak.

"Really?" She seemed surprised, as though she didn't think it possible to evoke such a response out of a man without more effort.

"Oh, yeah," he repeated, a smile in his voice. He might have been somewhat embarrassed were it not for her charming naiveté. "So fuckin' sexy," he rumbled absent-mindedly- more to himself than her- while one hand resumed stroking her at a lazy, inurgent pace, "got me shootin' off early... can't fuckin' remember the last time that happened... think I was still breathin'..."

His inadvertent praise stoked the dwindling fire in her belly. "Does that mean... that we can't...?"

The shadow of disappointment in her shy line of questioning simultaneously insulted and appealed to his ego. On one hand, she was clearly upset by the prospect of not consummating their marriage tonight- an unnecessary fear. On the other, she thought he was a two-pump-chump. That wouldn't do.

"I said all night long, didn't I?" Once more he thrust against her, letting her feel how hard he still was. "I ain't done with you yet."

Suddenly overheated, Lydia pressed herself flush against him, soaking up as much of his coolness as she possibly could through the water. "I'm hot, Beej-"

"Yeah, you are," he interrupted with a growl, the graze of his palm becoming more insistent.

"Stop," she dithered, still moderately uncomfortable with this kind of bold, candid flattery. "Seriously, it's too hot." She removed herself from his lap, standing on shaky legs. Traversing the sea, running a marathon through the jungle, relaxing in a hot spring, and an intense orgasm had done a number on her limbs' stability. "Woah," she wavered, knees buckling and arms flying out to steady herself. Betelgeuse didn't give her the chance. Again, she was hefted up into his arms before she knew what was happening. There hadn't even been a splash to indicate him standing.

He sighed deeply down at her blinking, disoriented features before rolling his eyes and making his way toward the hut, as though she had just requested he do some horribly inconvenient chore. "Weak little humans. Too cold, too hot, too hungry, too drunk. Always got some problem needs solvin'. Dunno what I'm gonna do with ya."

"You could always kill me," Lydia joked cynically, choosing to remain unoffended by his obvious teasing. A scowl was his response to her macabre solution. Then, she was flying through the air as he tossed her unceremoniously to the bed. A shrieking laughter tore from her lips as she bounced on the cushy surface, rolling over and landing on her tummy. The sound of it softened his annoyed expression. "Then you could teach me magic tricks. I could be the ghost with the second most."

Though the truth of what she was suggesting was absurd and would normally fill him with vehemence, he couldn't help the smile that curled the corner of his lips. "That's cute, babe."

Teeth dug into her bottom lip as she watched him, illuminated by the candles bordering the perimeter of the hut. If Lydia didn't already know with one-hundred percent certainty that there was no possibility of there being any pyro-technical errors- unless he wanted there to be- she might have pointed out what a horrible idea that was. "Are you going to ravish me now?" She half-teased as he circled the mattress until he was out of her line of sight. There was a tug, the soft sheets pulling against her, and she knew he had joined her. The anticipation was nerve-wracking so Lydia busied herself by toying with a rose petal- sliding it across her lips and cheeks, as though she might be able to transfer some of its softness to her own skin.

"Oh, no," he mumbled finally, kissing a trail up her leg. "I'm gonna make sweet, sweet love ta you." His point was accentuated with a sharp nip to the curve of her ass cheek. Then, he grabbed her hips and flipped her, placing her newly shaved nether regions just beneath his face. Immediately, her legs parted for him, giving him access to do whatever he wanted to do.

"Maybe I want a hard. Fast. Rough. Fuck," Lydia parroted petulantly, remembering the way he had threatened her in his kitchen once upon a time. A short, high-pitched sound escaped her when his tongue darted out, lathing the bundle of nerves just above her entrance. She was still engorged and sensitive from her previous orgasm.

"Don't tempt me, Lydia," he warned with complete seriousness, slowly slipping a single finger within her- testing. Despite the slickness he met, she was still so fucking tight. He had no desire to hurt his masochistic little psycho. If he were to indulge her mindless, wanton insistences there would surely be pain- more than he was willing to allow her to experience. No, she was still in need of more preparation. He sucked his finger clean, not wishing to waste a drop of her nectar, before wrapping his arms around her hips and flipping over so that he was on his back and she was above him.

Lydia jolted awkwardly at the sudden movement before gathering herself and sitting up straight, scooting back some so that she was settled high on his chest. "What are you-?"

"Sit on my face," he commanded, licking his lips.

His wife's cheeks turned a lovely shade of red. "People actually do that?" She had read things, but the concept seemed more like a pornographic fantasy to her than anything real. It just didn't sound like it would be comfortable for anyone involved.

"C'mere n' find out," he drawled, hungry eyes locked on his impending feast. Long, cold fingers curled around her hips, urging her forward. With complete trust, she shimmied forward, holding herself a few inches above him, not having the gall to lower her weight completely and literally sit on his face. It was just so... dirty. Betelgeuse, starving and provoked, had no patience for this kind of needless trepidation. With a swift deliberate motion, she was pulled down to his awaiting mouth and his tongue was thrust deep within her. She screamed for him, arching her body up and away. His tongue, undeterred, extended to follow her. With little effort, she was pulled back into place, his appendage penetrating her further as he did so.

It wasn't long before she was undulating her hips, riding his tongue in a mimicry of traditional sex. From Betelgeuse's perspective, she made for quite a sight. One cold hand came to grasp her tit- a bit rougher than he usually would- while the other squeezed at her ass cheek, encouraging her wild rhythm. Simultaneously, his tongue thickened within her, stretching her inner walls and preparing her for what was to come. The sensation was too much for her. "Beej," she gasped, breathy and wanting, "I'm- I'm gonna cum."

He thought it cute that she felt the need to warn him. She never had before. It must have been because she was on top, splayed over him. Encouraged by her throaty muttering, he squeezed both cheeks and ground her down on his mouth, fucking her with his tongue like he really meant it. In turn, she transformed into a hellcat above him, tossing her head back and crying out nonsensical words as she rocked her hips to meet him thrust for thrust. When her climax subsided, she fell back weakly; knees bent and spread on either side of his head, thighs elongated over his shoulders, back curved around his gut, a curtain of ebony hair flirting with his member. Damn. He knew she dabbled with ballet, but had yet to consider how this affected her flexibility. Reverently, he savored the moment, dragging his hands along the glowing alabaster flesh draped taut over him. Perfect.

Out of his view, a pale arm reached above her head, fingers grasping where she knew his erection was. "Am I ready now?"

She was teasing him. Again. The little brat had absolutely no sense of self-preservation. He would have preferred to keep doing this for at least another couple hours or so before even considering penetrating her in the conventional sense. As it was, Lydia was determined to seduce him. Who was he to turn her down again? He only had so much self-control. She was already rearranging herself properly, positioning her hips over his straining shaft before he could spin a smooth answer for her. He drew himself up so that he was resting on his elbows, watching intently as she began the process of impaling herself.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful," he intoned huskily as she rubbed the head along her slick pussy lips, aiming. This type of intimate talk was not exactly his forte, but he couldn't deny the urge to praise her, encourage her. Lydia bit her lip chastely in response, looking down at where she held him. Then, she descended. He gasped, eyes rolling back, even as she stiffened. It took him a moment to compose himself. Only his head was buried inside of her, but his poor bride was trembling, frozen, features contorted with discomfort.

"Oh, baby... you feel so fuckin' good," he growled reassuringly, drawing his hands across her tense form in light caresses. "So tight, so hot..." This inspired her to sink lower, take a bit more of him. A soft cry spilled from her lips and her eyes clenched shut, sweat beading on her forehead. "Oh, honey," he cooed, sitting up- very carefully, so as not to jostle himself within her- and pulling her close, tucking her head beneath his chin. "You got it, baby. You can take it." Against his will, his hips flexed upward, seeking out more of her torturous heat.

"I love you," she whispered into his chest- shocking him. Then, black-painted nails bit into his shoulders and she slammed herself down, forcing herself to take every last inch. Tears balled in the corner of her eyes and she cried out, the pained sound muffled into his frigid flesh.

"Lydia!" He admonished with a gasp, clutching her tight as stars shot across his vision. "Why did you do that?! Stupid!" He busied himself with stroking her back, trying to focus on how she must be feeling instead of the suffocating, blistering heat wrapped around his manhood. Of all the tests Lydia had subjected him to in the past, this one was the most challenging. It was all he could do not to flip over and pound into her until she bled, sobbed, and begged for mercy.

"It was taking too long," she moaned, trembling around him. "I thought this would be easier."

"We got all the time in the world, baby," he reminded her gently, very still with the exception of his roaming hands.

Awkwardly, she repositioned herself, adjusting her legs so that they were wrapped around him. "Please move," she begged after awhile, shifting her own hips impatiently. "It's not that bad. Just- just move. Please." She was so thoroughly wrapped up in his hold that it was difficult for her to make the proper motions on her own. Carefully, he rocked up, face locked on hers to read her expression for any signs of pain. Honey eyes still shone with moisture, but the wince she gave in reaction to his rocking could have been either pleasure or pain- it was impossible to tell. Determined to make her cry out in rapture again, he brought a hand down to where they were joined, pressing against her pearl in time with his cautious, slow thrusting.

"Oh," she gasped, rolling her hips to match his as discomfort began to fade into pleasure. This was all the motivation he needed. The intensity of his rhythm increased; both in force and speed. "So- big- ungh!"

His ego swelled to gargantuan proportions. That's right, he thought with a crooked grin, pressing against her clit more fiercely. "C'mon, baby," he rasped, thrusting harder as he lost a bit of his composure, "cum for daddy. Lemme feel that sweet lil pussy squeezin' my cock, milkin' me dry." Not that it wasn't already- it was taking a great deal of concentration not to lose himself and shoot off early again- but he still longed to know how it would feel to have her splinter into oblivion while wrapped around him.

His taboo reference to himself should have disgusted her, especially considering how she knew he felt about her father. Instead, it gave her a forbidden thrill, tendrils of heat blossoming out from her center and shooting up her spine. Her arms curled around his neck, her face finding a home in the hollow between his throat and shoulder. The position made it difficult for him to keep stroking her so he withdrew his hand from their conjuncture, opting to grab hold of her ass cheeks again and move her as he saw fit. The tempo he set was slow, deep, and grinding. Having driven her over the edge enough times by now to recognize the signs, he could tell that she was close.

"That's right, baby girl," he urged, growling into her neck as his movements became shorter and faster, less of him leaving her with each withdrawal. "You're doin' so good. So- fuckin'- tight- so- sweet!" A frenzied thrust accompanied each gargled word. The dam broke. Pale legs tightened around his waist. Black fingernails raked down his back. Were he alive, she would have left marks. A string of senseless shrieks that sounded unsuspiciously like his name tore from her lips, staccatoed by the erratic rhythm he was setting to push himself over the edge. Gasping for breath, they separated, falling bonelessly to the large mattress.

Betelgeuse came back to reality before his wife, lighting a cigarette for himself and placing one between her shuddering, ruddy lips. After taking a long drag and stretching the tension from her muscles, she turned, fitting herself against his side so that she might steal some of his chill for her heated flesh. Juices leaked from her, dribbling down her thigh. There was a comfortable silence while they basked in the afterglow, wordlessly finishing their smokes.

"Still?" Lydia questioned breathlessly, disbelievingly. The burning end of her cigarette was handed to him so that he could dispose of it safely. Meanwhile, she side-eyed his phallus. It stubbornly stood at attention, glistening and ready for more.

A deplorable smirk curled his mouth, eyes glinting devilishly in the candlelight. With that, she was pinned beneath him, hips settled between her spread legs. "How many times I gotta tell ya?" He grunted, driving himself home with a single vicious thrust. The combined evidence of their love-making blunted any pain she might have felt. Still, she screamed for him, the euphoric sound echoing far throughout the jungle.

"All. Night. Long."

A/N: Woah. Okay. I think that's more smut than I've ever written in one sitting. That was five orgasms collectively, I think? Please, please, PLEASE let me know what you guys think. I've been building up to this scene for thirty-four chapters now and was striving for perfection, so any and all feedback is GREATLY appreciated.