Pherenike - Chapter 23

At that moment, Pherenike kissed Deucalion while gripping the base of his s***t. The swollen head gently brushed against her opening.

Deucalion swallowed his repulsive pleasure, rubbing his nose against her soiled cheek. A light laugh came from her, reminiscent of their carefree days along the banks of the Antehe River. It was a sound filled with the warmth of sun and wind, as if this moment was a mere empty dream.

Absent-mindedly, he buried his face in her hair and asked, “…Did you do this with Actor too?”

Did Actor teach you all this? Did he…? Pherenike laughed.

“Once you come into me, you’ll know. Why ask?”

Her hand that was gripping his root slowly pushed him inside starting with the thick end. Deucalion held his breath. She placed her weight on it, wanting to take him all at once.

“Huh…!”

“Uh, haa…!”

But it didn’t go as planned. She could only take half of him before pausing. She placed her hand on his chest and gasped for breath. Her insides were painfully tight for him.

Pherenike stroked his strained eyes, saying, “Look.”

“Pherenike…”

“You’re my first. To everything.”

The first time he didn’t remember, and now. All his.

“Always, no one’s had me but you.”

A flicker of joy passed through his eyes, but it quickly faded. A faint smile formed on his lips.

“So, you wanted to give me your first before going to Actor…”

“…”

“I don’t want to be your first, Pherenike. I want to be your last.”

He closed his eyes.

“I don’t want to lose you. If losing you is the only way to have you, I don’t want that anymore.”

“Cal.”

“Why did you swear to the goddess? Why…”

“Whatever you say, I will have you now, Deucalion.”

Pherenike looked down at him and straightened up expressionlessly. The insertion, barely connected, deepened in an instant.

“I don’t care if you don’t want me now. I don’t care if you talk of dying. Because I want you.”

“Ha, uh…!”

“You won’t die. You’ll live for me.”

She moved her hips, barely touching his stomach. The movement was excruciatingly slow. A little more… Her insides struggled to swallow him completely. The tearing pain was bearable, but the inside that was not wide enough to take all of him continued to struggle. It was overwhelming, yet fulfilling.

Pherenike softly spoke.

“I came to spend nine nights with you.”

“…”

“After these nine nights, I’ll be your wife.”

He opened his eyes.

“In front of the goddess, you’ll become my true husband.”

In ancient times, the goddess Kybellar spent nine nights with the wolf and the eagle and turned them into human men by the Salonica River. Since then, in Evdokia and Argo, couples were considered truly married in the eyes of the goddess only after sharing nine nights together.

Pherenike whispered as she looked into Deucalion’s eyes,

“For me, you are always my first and my last, Deucalion.”

Always. His olive-green eyes suddenly surged like a tidal wave.

“Survive. And come find me.”

She imprinted these words on him and released his binds. In that moment, the linear lights that had constricted him rushed back to her fingertips.

Regaining his freedom, Deucalion abruptly sat up, gripping Pherenike’s waist with both hands as if to crush it, and pulled her down towards him. At the same time, he thrust his hips upwards.

“Ah…!”

Their deepest parts met. He stared blatantly at the flushed place of the woman who had taken him wholly, her legs shamelessly spread atop him. His gaze was as vile as that of her husband’s. It was Deucalion’s insidious pit.

Pherenike was thrilled by this degenerate look. He asked between breaths, Does it hurt? No, not at all. She shook her head.

He didn’t ask further, he just enveloped her completely, leaving no space between them.

Their lower bodies met again with force. Once more, he thrust powerfully from below, using his weight to bury his member completely inside her and he began to move. His head buried in her neck like a beast.

The force driven by lust and anger exploded in all directions.

Pherenike enjoyed it. The grip on her waist, as if he were about to crush her, was thrilling. The intense sensation of him entering her with each forceful thrust was like he was going to break her.

A man consumed by taking her in that moment, with no regard for her whatsoever. Hands grasping and clinging. A body treated like a beast.

His hands pushed her onto the bed and spread her legs wide open. Pherenike shamelessly opened her legs toward the sky, embracing him with ecstasy.

He delved deeper along the path she opened. His large hand grasped her b****t, crudely twisting her n****e.

As he started short, deep thrusts into the deepest part of her without taking anything out, the lovely Pherenike could say nothing but only utter his name.

Deucalion. Deucalion…