Obscene Sovereignty

My vast snowy wings thundered open as though the space itself required conquest, framing us in unquestioned dominion. I took him with a force that startled even me, imposed my need, riding with a ruthless certainty that made him secondary to the command surging through my body.

Sheltered in the Underworld

The mortals had it all wrong…twisted, misshapen in their telling. Hades hadn’t stolen her; he had given her refuge. A sanctuary. A place to curl in the penumbral, against the ardent heat of his chest, and breathe. Warded and hidden from the powers and responsibilities of her own divinity.

Moonlight & Smoke

We moved as one, a tide of bodies, curves, and shadows, entwined in slow, fluid devotion. Kisses devoured and lingered, breaths mingling against skin, Smoke a shadowed current beneath us, Moonlight tracing the arches and hollows of every curve.

Queen of the Night

A bead of drool caught the light at the corner of my lip. A lover’s malice. A delicious, sadistic deprivation. The sound wrenched from him at that denial fed something ravenous in me, even as I drew my tongue along my lips, even as the Woodsman surged behind.

Neck Kisses and Further Improprieties

I am a strong, independent, confident woman… most of the time.
And yet there I was, tittering like a debutante, melting like spun sugar in August, utterly undone by the ardent attention of the Warrior’s lips at the slope of my throat.

A Lofted Night

There they lay…an Archani and an Elfin Goddess…languishing upon the narrow pallet atop the lofty platform, scarcely a breath from where I sat. Their mouths met in silken, rosy kisses, each one deeper, more zealous than the last…

Of Water, Fire, Wings, and Earth

With the brute ferocity of womanhood called upon to rise up, yet again, with hands fisted in iron resolve and teeth clenched against the scream that lacerates its way upward.

I bind the water. I smother the flame. I fold the wings. I bury the earth.

The Devotion of a Warrior’s Hands

Not bolder, never crude, but aware. His hand reclaimed the same path, yet this time it lingers a fraction longer, the faintest suggestion of pressure, a fingertip curling inward. A question, wordless and exquisitely placed.

A Perfectly Reasonable Afternoon

A kiss that did not end when it should have.

Then it deepened.

And just like that, thought abandoned me entirely.

“Convenient,” my Inner Goddess murmurs dryly. “You stall for hours, and then throw yourself at the one man who can’t stay long enough to do anything about it.”

Obscene Lust and Cherry Blossoms

And I sat there across from him, attentive in awe of the Demigod’s expansive mind, his effortless command of thought and memory.
And still… threaded through every breath, every word that left my mouth, the cherry blossoms lingered. They clung to my skin.

Smallest Trespass

It was that single blink…that palm at my knee, that occulted insistence…that invitation for the flower to open further still.

The Overwhelm

After weeks without touch, even the smallest affection should unravel me. The gentlest hands should unlock something buried and waiting. Instead, I am tired. Bone-deep. Spirit-weary tired.
Ever the caregiver. Even with him.
And that is the most frustrating part – I cannot seem to arrive where he is.

Caelithra’s Hunger

Caelithra’s fingers slid between her own legs, skimming the wetness she found there, teasing her folds, mirroring what she witnessed, tethered to the scene of debauchery.

An Unforgettable Affair

And so, like a kitten drawn to the hearth, I curled closer still, seeking the warmth of him, pressing in without thought for whether it offered him any relief at all. I only knew the instinct to remain near – to gather what heat lingered between us.

Treasures Best Remembered

Language fails at such moments. There are no proper words for them – at least, not ones inclined toward obedience.

The Woodsman did not cease until I had cried out to the old gods and the new in a language I did not know.

The Violence of a Starving God

Pain and pleasure collided catastrophically beneath her ribs as he buried himself fully inside her in one merciless thrust. She felt split apart around him, body straining helplessly to accommodate the sheer size of him, yet the ruthless thoroughness of his mouth moments earlier had left her drenched and aching enough to take him.

The Sirens of Atlantis

Tiny bioluminescent reeflings gathered shamelessly near the palace windows whenever revelry grew too raucous, flickering back and forth like scandalized old matrons collecting gossip. (17)

The Man Beneath the Legend

Cinema grants him arrows, swagger, rebellion, and impossible precision beneath moonlit branches.

But none of those stories linger long enough upon the unnerving reality of standing before a man carved so thoroughly from myth that your own pulse forgets itself for a moment.

This is the story I wish to tell. Not the legend. The man.

Dear Diary

And I am staring at this page as though it might decide for me where such a story ought to begin.

Because this is not the first tale of its kind.

That, perhaps, is the difficulty.

The Storm Without and Within

The first warning should have been Hades.
The second was Zeus.
The third arrived with the storm.

Coming Soon!

Can you feel the tension building?

Coming Soon!

Can you feel the tension building?

Coming Soon!

Can you feel the tension building?

Coming Soon!

Can you feel the tension building?