Home > The Emperor (Dark Verse #3)(61)

The Emperor (Dark Verse #3)(61)
Author: RuNyx

“I’m going to stand behind you, Amara,” he leaned down to whisper in her ear, knowing it triggered her sometimes.

She nodded, her eyes closed, feeling his hands upon her flesh. Fuck, she was perfect.

He circled behind her, looking at the skin on her back, three thin strips of acid-burned flesh scarred diagonally across one hip to one blade. She probably didn’t realize he had matched the structure of his back dragon tattoo to match her back scars, from one hip to one shoulder. If anyone looked at their naked backs together, they would see symmetry – a dragon breathing fire across her back in mirrored structure, side by side.

He bent to kiss them, before straightening, smearing the clay in his hand over them.

“Dante,” she whispered, a tremor going down her spine, the vibration right under his fingers, and he continued to spread the clay all over, watching the layers dry, the scars immortalized in them.

Scooping more clay, he pressed up against her back, feeling the wetness smear over his chest, and spread his fingers over her stomach, ensconcing her bump generously with the argil, before moving it back up over her breasts. He plucked at her nipples, kissing the side of her neck, and felt her arch in his hands, her ass pushing into his hard cock. He pushed back, nestling himself between her cheeks over layers of their clothing, and her breathing stuttered.

His Amara was a breather. She moaned occasionally, screamed rarely because of her damaged vocal cords, and spoke sometimes, demanding his attention in the middle of sex. But she breathed – soft, slow, hard, fast, short, long, and so on. Dante had learned her breaths to learn her responses and anticipate her needs. He had spent years tracking the changes in them, understanding what each variation meant. He had memorized her like his favorite song.

That stutter in her breath meant she was getting close to coming.

Dante let go of her nipples and began circling his wet fingers around them, close but not close enough. “Can you come just like this, dirty girl?” he whispered into her neck, pressing his cock into her ass as she stood on her toes.

“Please,” she begged softly, her breasts heaving in his palms, her head falling back over his shoulder, her hands coming to wrap around his neck, thrusting her heavy tits higher.

Dante sucked on her neck, taking both handfuls of her stunning breasts and squeezing them, before plucking her nipples again, extending them out, the clay on her drying over her skin, definitely adding to the sensation.

“Oh god, Dante,” she mewled, her lips quivering as he continued his ministrations, humping her ass, pinching and pulling her nipples, and sucking her neck.

Her breath got shorter and shorter, her panting loud in the silent room surrounded by his sculptures, and Dante knew she was close. Opening his mouth, he nipped at the side of her neck, before biting down on her skin, hard enough to give her a hickey, and pinching her nipples hard.

She exploded, her mouth opening in a silent scream as her legs gave out, her weight supported by his hands on her breasts.

That was the first time she’d come just from stimulation above the waist and Dante felt good. There was nothing that fulfilled him more than giving this woman pleasure. It was when he took her to the stars that he felt most powerful, his own need secondary to taking her there, through any means necessary. Though nothing turned him on more than eating her pussy.

He turned her to face him and watched as she came back to herself – a vision of a woman smeared in his clay and her pleasure, naked, open, vulnerable, trusting, with heavy-lidded eyes and heaving breasts and divine beauty and carrying his child – and realized what muses were made of.

He cupped her face in his hands, overcome with the riot of emotions she inspired in him. “You’re my magnum opus, Amara,” he told her, pressing his forehead against hers, a move that always brought the turmoil in him to a standstill. “And I am your humble servant.”

“No,” she whispered, her words falling against his lips. “You are my emperor.”

 

 

After making love in the shower cleaning up, Amara had accompanied him to his study, handing Lulu to him since she couldn’t lift her anymore. The fucking cat loved to climb on his shoulder and if he stroked her, she purred right against him.

He watched Amara settle on one of the couches, taking Lulu in her arms, and begin talking as he walked around the desk, opening his suit jacket.

“So, I looked at the list of buildings you gave me,” she told him, stroking the cat, dressed in one of her flowy dresses that still fit, a choker around her neck hiding her scar. She wore that or a scarf anytime she had to leave the compound.

“And?” Dante asked, taking out his reading glasses from the top drawer, looking down at the sheet she had handed him with annotations in her curvy, neat handwriting.

“You wear glasses? How have I never seen you in glasses before?”

Dante looked up at her question, looking at her surprised face over the frames. “Just for reading,” he clarified. “You’ve probably never seen me read. I prefer listening to books, and any reading I do for reports and shit is at night here.”

“You mean when you’re here at night working, you wear those sexy glasses?” she asked.

Dante felt his lips turn up. “I wouldn’t call them sexy, but yes.”

“Hmm,” she trailed off, petting the cat. “Anyways, Vin and I went to each of the sites and looked around,” she leaned into a cushion, pulling her feet under her. “Only two of those buildings have enough space and seclusion that we’ll need for the project. They’re also both close to each other – about ten minutes walking – which I think could be a good idea for shared resources.”

Dante nodded, reading her notes on the two properties she was talking about. She was thorough in her detailing of the pros and cons of both locations, adding the proximity to the compound as a pro. “What will you need in terms of manpower?” he asked her, looking up from the sheet.

“Depending on how many kids we’re talking about.”

Dante mulled for a second. “Give me an estimate.”

Amara contemplated for a second. “I’d say one trainer and one counselor per five kids, one supervisor per twenty kids. That should allow each adult to give each child the attention they need without hampering their reserves. And security, of course, which you’ll have a better idea about.”

Dante nodded, looking down at the sheets again. “And can you arrange the trainers and counselors on our payroll?”

Amara nodded. “I should be able to. I have contacts in both the academia and training levels. I’ll make the calls and interview each one of them myself. Vin can vet them. In case I can’t, I’ll let you know. It should take about a month or two to start.”

His phone ringing interrupted them. He looked down, to see he had a meeting with one of his informers. Getting up from the seat, he pocketed his phone and buttoned his jacket, slicking his hair back from his face, and walked over to where she and the cat sat.

Placing a hand over the back of the couch, he bent down to see her raise her mouth up, ready to receive his kiss.

“You can handle it?”

“Yeah.”

“And your practice?”

“I’ll do sessions with those who need it the most.”

“And your therapy?”

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