Uncategorized – Page 2 – Year of the Inner Goddess

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…

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

The Smallest Trespass

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

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.”

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.

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