This story, written for a prompt, had a 400-word limit.
Reece’s delectable lips formed words, his baritone voice rumbled them out, and his strong, sensitive hands illustrated his speech, “…then it became not a phenomenon of the elements in the atmosphere, shading the moon a blue color, but an event on the almanac.”
He was so damn cute! Eager to please as a puppy, yet arrogantly confident. After all, he was what, 35, 40 years old? Adorable.
“Fascinating,” Demie captured his hand, stroking its back with her thumbnail, watching Reece shiver. She drew the line at batting her eyelashes, but otherwise granted her males a generous allotment of attention and admiration.
Tonight Demie intended for her efforts to pay off on the beach, under the brilliance of said blue moon.
The question, should she bind him as mortal consort for a few decades?
Or simply drain his lesser powers and release him? Demie never killed her mates; that was wasteful. You always threw the little ones back, so they could spawn more of their own kind.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his eyes the color of the midnight ocean, seeking hers. Reece brought her hand to his lips, kissing it with slow, sweet skill.
Mmmmmmm. This one has potential. A binding. Definitely.
Later, legs entwined with legs, naked flesh pressed against flesh, the waxing moon bathing them in her silvery radiance, Demie opened her mouth to speak the first words of ritual.
“You are mine, as I am yours, as the sea belongs to the sand, and the sand to the sea,” Reece said as he entered her.
She froze. “Who are you, mortal?”
“No more mortal than you, Demeter.” he chuckled, tweaking a nipple. “Shall I let you go, then? Or…?”
He moved inside her demandingly, his fierce essence blending with hers, pulsing with the moontides. She had to think; she couldn’t think.
If she continued, they could be incredibly powerful. Together. But she would be as bound to Reece as he would be to her. Full partners.
Reece gazed into her eyes, brushing the back of his fingers gently against her cheek, his supple mouth a question mark.
Demie laced her fingers into his, lips touching lips, “You are mine, as I am yours, as the moon belongs to the night sky, and the sky to the moon and stars.”
As the glowing moon reached her zenith, so too their binding was fulfilled.