Lament of the Asphodels - Chapter 37: An Elegy to the Erinyes or, the Labors of Heracles
Title: An Elegy to the Erinyes or, the Labors of Heracles, Chapter 37 of Lament of the Asphodels
Author dracox-serdriel
Artist: LiamJcnes
Word count: 2,200
Rating/Warnings: For rating and full warning, please see the primary post.
Note: Written as part of Captain Swan Big Bang 2016.
[see Chapter Notes]
Emma watched the shadowy silhouette swoop through the night sky, periodically unleashing fireballs as it descended into the distance. As soon as it disappeared somewhere beyond the clock tower, her mind began to race with possibilities and intrigue.
The dark would work against them, but with Pegasus as their steed, no beast could evade them by air or land. A familiar surge crept into her blood, pumping her heart a little faster and infusing her with a profound second wind. She turned on her heel toward the door, grabbing Killian's arm as she went.
But, as it transpired, he was an anchor, unwavering and unmoving. Their intersecting forces spun her away from the exit and back around to him.
She said, "If we leave now - "
"Leave?" he interrupted.
"If we don't go now, it's going to get away."
"Love, we don't even know what it is," he pointed out. "And it's the dead of night."
"Which means it'll be sleeping," she countered.
"Aye, unless the flying, fire-spewing beast is nocturnal," he said. "Swan, we've only just returned to the land of the living. Perhaps we should leave the monster till morning."
The bubbling, raw energy inside her pulsated under her skin, pushing her to insist upon her current course of action, but as soon as she opened her mouth, her argument died upon her tongue. She had her magic and he, his cutlass, but the creature spouted flame as easily as yawning. It wasn't the kind of thing to face with no rest and no plan after a very, very long journey, not when they yet had safer and surer options.
Killian wrapped his arm around her as he observed the passionate purpose in her eyes slowly recede. Her reply was painted across the lines of her brow, leaving no need for her to speak them.
"Ever the Savior, Swan," he remarked.
She smiled and said, "You're right. Whatever it is will still be there tomorrow."
Relieved, his mind returned to the many imminent tasks at hand, such as making the bed, so he failed to see the mischievous look that blossomed on Emma's face. Thus, he was thoroughly surprised when she whirled him about, took hold of his lapels, and yanked him down into a ferocious kiss.
He regained his footing with hardly a misstep, reciprocating her passion with equal fervor. On occasions like these, his stomach normally performed a series of backflips, but this time, his heart matched it movement for movement in a sensational samba that seared his blood, stiffening his member and flushing his skin.
She relished how malleable his lips felt against hers, light and soft and inviting. He shifted back, adjusting as he snaked his arms down and around her, and she followed him, rising to her tiptoes to maintain her grip.
Every impression was amplified: deeper and stronger, hotter and faster, gentler and brighter. If either party spared a moment's thought as to the reason, they surely would have concluded that their ascent from the Underworld was the cause, and they would have no way of knowing - not in the thick of things, at least - that it had no bearing on the breadth or depth of their sensations. No, it was not the realm, but rather their singular heart, freshly split between them, connecting them with every thump and flutter.
As things were, however, neither wasted even a second considering the cause of their newly-acute pleasure, for the voracity of it swept them up in a wild and uncompromising storm of lips, tongues, and teeth.
In a whirlwind of tangled limbs, they shed the barriers between them, coming together and breaking apart like the endlessly rolling waves of the tide. By the time his brace and hook clattered to the floor, their nude forms were covered with a sheen of sweat from their efforts, panting hard yet unwilling to release one another to catch their respective breaths.
A tickle of mischief ran up her spine, inspiring a playfulness that she hadn't mustered since she last stood in this very room all those years ago. Emma coiled her hand around the base of his cock, enveloping him with a marvelous heat and the perfect amount of pressure, which escalated as she slid up and down in smooth, slow undulations. He jolted in joy, his head falling back as a deep moan involuntarily erupted from his throat.
Her mouth descended upon the sensitive skin of his neck, leaving a scarlet mark on the pulse point at its base before she trailed her tongue along the line of his collarbone.
Overwhelmed by her merciless onslaught, Killian could do little more than vocalize his appreciation over the sumptuous sounds of suction springing from her lips. She continued her ministrations, descending lower and lower, until she knelt before him, nibbling at his protruding hipbones.
When he finally marshaled enough strength to look down at her, she met his eyes. Witnessing her heavily lidded eyes blown wide with want, he became desperate to know what manner of noises he might draw from those devilishly skilled lips of hers. The thought alone was enough to end him.
Killian struck like a hawk capturing prey, swooping down and lifting her to her feet as he curled her around and brought her back flush against his chest. His cock bounced off the pert lobes of her ass before being trapped against the small of her back, forcing him to smoother his groan of delight against the shell of her ear as he sucked hard.
Determined to repay her in kind, he held her tightly in place, his left arm across her shoulders and his right over her hips. He showered her radiant skin with his attentive and capable mouth, drawing rasping gasps from her chest as she wriggled against him. She reached her arms behind herself, her hands exploring his flanks with hurried, demanding fingers, only to discover her true quarry inaccessibly pinned between them. So she grabbed the sinewy flesh of his thighs and ass, anchoring herself to him. Her breath steadily became more and more ragged, but never quite elevating to the moan he desperately longed to hear.
He raised his left arm until the crook of his elbow cradled her chin. Then his right hand dipped lower, casually exploring the supple planes of her thighs, his finger gradually roaming inward with feather-light touches. Yet still, she let no utterance of passion pass from her, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth to prevent even the quietest of moans from escaping.
Spurred on by her challenge, he eased his hand over the blond curls that concealed her sex, then down to the sweet opening beneath, lubricating his finger with the abundance of her arousal before slipping up to her engorged bud, applying the slightest friction possible. She gasped as she shuttered once, twice, and then she began to roll her hips against his fingers.
He withdrew his hand, and she frantically clamped her legs together, keeping him where she needed him most.
"Killian," she pleaded.
He circle her clit languidly, applying pressure to the sensitive bundle of flesh, and finally - finally - the flood gates opened, and the dulcet tones of Emma Swan's pleasure filled the room, a fine and frenzied music to his ears. She grinded her hips against him as his name fell from her lips as a curse and a prayer, driving him to plunge two fingers into her tight, sopping-wet quim while continuing his meticulous ministrations on her clit.
He exacted a long, deep orgasm from her. She burrowed into the taught muscles of his ass, marking him with bruises in the shape of her fingertips. Her every muscle clenched in agonizing pleasure as she came, then suddenly relaxed in unison moments later, leaving her boneless against him for support.
How long Emma remained slumped helplessly against him, neither could say, nor could she speak to the interval she felt afloat, above everything, the sweet bliss of safety dovetailing with the culmination of passion. The only certainty was that it - like all mortal things - did not last forever.
At some point, Emma's faculties became attuned to her surroundings, such as the sure and steady friction Killian pressed into the vault between her legs and the intricate, delicate patterns his mouth wove against her skin, as if he might indelibly scribe the words 'beautiful', 'marvelous', and 'perfection' with his tongue.
Awareness - comprehensive and sharp - returned to her in a single, fitful moment when Emma shifted her weight to her heels and felt his stiff cock against her back. Though he had driven her to an unexpected high only minutes prior, she suddenly ached for him twice as hard. It felt as of an age had come and gone since she had last felt him buried deep within her, pleasure budding with his punishing thrusts, bringing them together with smart, wet slaps of flesh.
The thought stoked her already-roaring flames of want. By some cruel trick of nature, however, she found herself unable to speak, and therefore, without means or recourse to describe - to beg - her desires, or, indeed, any manner in which to articulate the deep and terrible well of her need thereof.
She shifted forward, and, finding his grip slack, continued until her forearms rested on the half-made bed. Then she whipped her hair over one shoulder and cast her eyes over the other, hoping her actions beseeched that which she could not speak.
Killian had, on many occasions, described her as an open book, and, if his expression was any indication, his perceptions had not failed her. His eyes were black with naught but the faintest sliver of their true cerulean hue, and his face bespoke both of his abiding, unrelenting appetite and of his delight at her wordless request.
He slumped over her and pressed his lips to the base of her spine, breathing in the scent of her sweat and sex before he continued up her back, kissing each vertebra deliberately, delighting in the salt of her skin and her tiny groans of impatience.
He swept the few stray tresses of her hair carefully to one side as he licked between her shoulder blades. He shied away from her face, following the turn of her spine so he could kiss each inch of the back of her neck.
Then, in stark contrast to his leisurely pace, he captured her lips, demanding entry to every corner of her mouth, and she sighed as she gave herself over to his dominating kiss, relishing the heat of his body covering hers as he consuming her gasps of pleasure.
He followed the well-learned lines of her figure, lining himself up without abandoning their kiss, swallowing their matching moans as he plunged into her slick, warm center with a single thrust of his hips. They broke apart to breath, pressing their foreheads together as they acclimated to their renewed connection, shuttering in tandem as ripples of pleasure flowed between them.
"Bloody hell," he whispered.
Perhaps he waited a moment too long, for she gyrated her hips as she clenched around him, drawing a string of breathless curses from him as he nearly collapsed onto her. She was tighter than a vice and simultaneously wanting and welcoming, and though they had shared passions countless times before, this felt new and bold and fragile.
Killian shifted his hips back until only the tip of his cock remained sheathed. He slid back inside with a smooth, gradual motion, forcing himself rein in his need to pound into her mercilessly. He continued to thrust at a tepid pace, grinding his teeth in restraint, but soon she was meeting him with thrusts of her own, quickening the pleasure, all the while unleashing the lowest pleas of 'Killian... Killian, please.'
With that, his resolve for tender lovemaking snapped, and he began to pump into her in earnest. The pace quickly became punishing as the room filled with the slick slaps of his flesh meeting hers in a rough tempo underscored by lengthy moans, both too far gone to shout the other's name.
Euphoria welled up and boiled over. Emma could feel the hailing quiver of her cunt enveloping him, just as he could feel the delicious plunge of his cock as it hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. Neither had any time to sort through the barrage of these newly shared sensations, for the rush of experiencing both sides of pleasure - at once giving and receiving, being penetrated and penetrating - bought their ecstasy far more swiftly than either had expected, tossing them into the throes of an abrupt and simultaneous orgasm that overwhelmed them like a Northedge storm.
Emma and Killian returned to some semblance of themselves coiled together on the now unmade bed, awash in contentment. The only interruption to their bliss was a chill, accompanied by the faintest trembling shiver from Emma. Killian had enough presence of mind to procure the discarded blankets from the floor to cover them before he followed his love into a deep and restful sleep.
<<< Previous:
Chapter 36: The Eleusinian Mysteries
Next: >>>
Chapter 38: Hyperion's Shadow
(coming soon...)
Artist: LiamJcnes
Primary Post: Lament of the Asphodels
Chapter Notes
The Erinyes were female deities of vengeance who inhabited the Underworld, sometimes referred to as the Furies.
In Greek myth, the hero Heracles was tasked with ten labors as penance for killing his wife and children during a fit of insanity induced by the goddess Hera. In the end, he completed twelve labors, for two of his earlier labors, slaying the Hydra and cleaning the Augean Stables, were disqualified because he received assistance.
Author dracox-serdriel
Artist: LiamJcnes
Word count: 2,200
Rating/Warnings: For rating and full warning, please see the primary post.
Note: Written as part of Captain Swan Big Bang 2016.
[see Chapter Notes]
Emma watched the shadowy silhouette swoop through the night sky, periodically unleashing fireballs as it descended into the distance. As soon as it disappeared somewhere beyond the clock tower, her mind began to race with possibilities and intrigue.
The dark would work against them, but with Pegasus as their steed, no beast could evade them by air or land. A familiar surge crept into her blood, pumping her heart a little faster and infusing her with a profound second wind. She turned on her heel toward the door, grabbing Killian's arm as she went.
But, as it transpired, he was an anchor, unwavering and unmoving. Their intersecting forces spun her away from the exit and back around to him.
She said, "If we leave now - "
"Leave?" he interrupted.
"If we don't go now, it's going to get away."
"Love, we don't even know what it is," he pointed out. "And it's the dead of night."
"Which means it'll be sleeping," she countered.
"Aye, unless the flying, fire-spewing beast is nocturnal," he said. "Swan, we've only just returned to the land of the living. Perhaps we should leave the monster till morning."
The bubbling, raw energy inside her pulsated under her skin, pushing her to insist upon her current course of action, but as soon as she opened her mouth, her argument died upon her tongue. She had her magic and he, his cutlass, but the creature spouted flame as easily as yawning. It wasn't the kind of thing to face with no rest and no plan after a very, very long journey, not when they yet had safer and surer options.
Killian wrapped his arm around her as he observed the passionate purpose in her eyes slowly recede. Her reply was painted across the lines of her brow, leaving no need for her to speak them.
"Ever the Savior, Swan," he remarked.
She smiled and said, "You're right. Whatever it is will still be there tomorrow."
Relieved, his mind returned to the many imminent tasks at hand, such as making the bed, so he failed to see the mischievous look that blossomed on Emma's face. Thus, he was thoroughly surprised when she whirled him about, took hold of his lapels, and yanked him down into a ferocious kiss.
He regained his footing with hardly a misstep, reciprocating her passion with equal fervor. On occasions like these, his stomach normally performed a series of backflips, but this time, his heart matched it movement for movement in a sensational samba that seared his blood, stiffening his member and flushing his skin.
She relished how malleable his lips felt against hers, light and soft and inviting. He shifted back, adjusting as he snaked his arms down and around her, and she followed him, rising to her tiptoes to maintain her grip.
Every impression was amplified: deeper and stronger, hotter and faster, gentler and brighter. If either party spared a moment's thought as to the reason, they surely would have concluded that their ascent from the Underworld was the cause, and they would have no way of knowing - not in the thick of things, at least - that it had no bearing on the breadth or depth of their sensations. No, it was not the realm, but rather their singular heart, freshly split between them, connecting them with every thump and flutter.
As things were, however, neither wasted even a second considering the cause of their newly-acute pleasure, for the voracity of it swept them up in a wild and uncompromising storm of lips, tongues, and teeth.
In a whirlwind of tangled limbs, they shed the barriers between them, coming together and breaking apart like the endlessly rolling waves of the tide. By the time his brace and hook clattered to the floor, their nude forms were covered with a sheen of sweat from their efforts, panting hard yet unwilling to release one another to catch their respective breaths.
A tickle of mischief ran up her spine, inspiring a playfulness that she hadn't mustered since she last stood in this very room all those years ago. Emma coiled her hand around the base of his cock, enveloping him with a marvelous heat and the perfect amount of pressure, which escalated as she slid up and down in smooth, slow undulations. He jolted in joy, his head falling back as a deep moan involuntarily erupted from his throat.
Her mouth descended upon the sensitive skin of his neck, leaving a scarlet mark on the pulse point at its base before she trailed her tongue along the line of his collarbone.
Overwhelmed by her merciless onslaught, Killian could do little more than vocalize his appreciation over the sumptuous sounds of suction springing from her lips. She continued her ministrations, descending lower and lower, until she knelt before him, nibbling at his protruding hipbones.
When he finally marshaled enough strength to look down at her, she met his eyes. Witnessing her heavily lidded eyes blown wide with want, he became desperate to know what manner of noises he might draw from those devilishly skilled lips of hers. The thought alone was enough to end him.
Killian struck like a hawk capturing prey, swooping down and lifting her to her feet as he curled her around and brought her back flush against his chest. His cock bounced off the pert lobes of her ass before being trapped against the small of her back, forcing him to smoother his groan of delight against the shell of her ear as he sucked hard.
Determined to repay her in kind, he held her tightly in place, his left arm across her shoulders and his right over her hips. He showered her radiant skin with his attentive and capable mouth, drawing rasping gasps from her chest as she wriggled against him. She reached her arms behind herself, her hands exploring his flanks with hurried, demanding fingers, only to discover her true quarry inaccessibly pinned between them. So she grabbed the sinewy flesh of his thighs and ass, anchoring herself to him. Her breath steadily became more and more ragged, but never quite elevating to the moan he desperately longed to hear.
He raised his left arm until the crook of his elbow cradled her chin. Then his right hand dipped lower, casually exploring the supple planes of her thighs, his finger gradually roaming inward with feather-light touches. Yet still, she let no utterance of passion pass from her, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth to prevent even the quietest of moans from escaping.
Spurred on by her challenge, he eased his hand over the blond curls that concealed her sex, then down to the sweet opening beneath, lubricating his finger with the abundance of her arousal before slipping up to her engorged bud, applying the slightest friction possible. She gasped as she shuttered once, twice, and then she began to roll her hips against his fingers.
He withdrew his hand, and she frantically clamped her legs together, keeping him where she needed him most.
"Killian," she pleaded.
He circle her clit languidly, applying pressure to the sensitive bundle of flesh, and finally - finally - the flood gates opened, and the dulcet tones of Emma Swan's pleasure filled the room, a fine and frenzied music to his ears. She grinded her hips against him as his name fell from her lips as a curse and a prayer, driving him to plunge two fingers into her tight, sopping-wet quim while continuing his meticulous ministrations on her clit.
He exacted a long, deep orgasm from her. She burrowed into the taught muscles of his ass, marking him with bruises in the shape of her fingertips. Her every muscle clenched in agonizing pleasure as she came, then suddenly relaxed in unison moments later, leaving her boneless against him for support.
How long Emma remained slumped helplessly against him, neither could say, nor could she speak to the interval she felt afloat, above everything, the sweet bliss of safety dovetailing with the culmination of passion. The only certainty was that it - like all mortal things - did not last forever.
At some point, Emma's faculties became attuned to her surroundings, such as the sure and steady friction Killian pressed into the vault between her legs and the intricate, delicate patterns his mouth wove against her skin, as if he might indelibly scribe the words 'beautiful', 'marvelous', and 'perfection' with his tongue.
Awareness - comprehensive and sharp - returned to her in a single, fitful moment when Emma shifted her weight to her heels and felt his stiff cock against her back. Though he had driven her to an unexpected high only minutes prior, she suddenly ached for him twice as hard. It felt as of an age had come and gone since she had last felt him buried deep within her, pleasure budding with his punishing thrusts, bringing them together with smart, wet slaps of flesh.
The thought stoked her already-roaring flames of want. By some cruel trick of nature, however, she found herself unable to speak, and therefore, without means or recourse to describe - to beg - her desires, or, indeed, any manner in which to articulate the deep and terrible well of her need thereof.
She shifted forward, and, finding his grip slack, continued until her forearms rested on the half-made bed. Then she whipped her hair over one shoulder and cast her eyes over the other, hoping her actions beseeched that which she could not speak.
Killian had, on many occasions, described her as an open book, and, if his expression was any indication, his perceptions had not failed her. His eyes were black with naught but the faintest sliver of their true cerulean hue, and his face bespoke both of his abiding, unrelenting appetite and of his delight at her wordless request.
He slumped over her and pressed his lips to the base of her spine, breathing in the scent of her sweat and sex before he continued up her back, kissing each vertebra deliberately, delighting in the salt of her skin and her tiny groans of impatience.
He swept the few stray tresses of her hair carefully to one side as he licked between her shoulder blades. He shied away from her face, following the turn of her spine so he could kiss each inch of the back of her neck.
Then, in stark contrast to his leisurely pace, he captured her lips, demanding entry to every corner of her mouth, and she sighed as she gave herself over to his dominating kiss, relishing the heat of his body covering hers as he consuming her gasps of pleasure.
He followed the well-learned lines of her figure, lining himself up without abandoning their kiss, swallowing their matching moans as he plunged into her slick, warm center with a single thrust of his hips. They broke apart to breath, pressing their foreheads together as they acclimated to their renewed connection, shuttering in tandem as ripples of pleasure flowed between them.
"Bloody hell," he whispered.
Perhaps he waited a moment too long, for she gyrated her hips as she clenched around him, drawing a string of breathless curses from him as he nearly collapsed onto her. She was tighter than a vice and simultaneously wanting and welcoming, and though they had shared passions countless times before, this felt new and bold and fragile.
Killian shifted his hips back until only the tip of his cock remained sheathed. He slid back inside with a smooth, gradual motion, forcing himself rein in his need to pound into her mercilessly. He continued to thrust at a tepid pace, grinding his teeth in restraint, but soon she was meeting him with thrusts of her own, quickening the pleasure, all the while unleashing the lowest pleas of 'Killian... Killian, please.'
With that, his resolve for tender lovemaking snapped, and he began to pump into her in earnest. The pace quickly became punishing as the room filled with the slick slaps of his flesh meeting hers in a rough tempo underscored by lengthy moans, both too far gone to shout the other's name.
Euphoria welled up and boiled over. Emma could feel the hailing quiver of her cunt enveloping him, just as he could feel the delicious plunge of his cock as it hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. Neither had any time to sort through the barrage of these newly shared sensations, for the rush of experiencing both sides of pleasure - at once giving and receiving, being penetrated and penetrating - bought their ecstasy far more swiftly than either had expected, tossing them into the throes of an abrupt and simultaneous orgasm that overwhelmed them like a Northedge storm.
Emma and Killian returned to some semblance of themselves coiled together on the now unmade bed, awash in contentment. The only interruption to their bliss was a chill, accompanied by the faintest trembling shiver from Emma. Killian had enough presence of mind to procure the discarded blankets from the floor to cover them before he followed his love into a deep and restful sleep.
<<< Previous:
Chapter 36: The Eleusinian Mysteries
Next: >>>
Chapter 38: Hyperion's Shadow
(coming soon...)
Artist: LiamJcnes
Primary Post: Lament of the Asphodels
Chapter Notes
The Erinyes were female deities of vengeance who inhabited the Underworld, sometimes referred to as the Furies.
In Greek myth, the hero Heracles was tasked with ten labors as penance for killing his wife and children during a fit of insanity induced by the goddess Hera. In the end, he completed twelve labors, for two of his earlier labors, slaying the Hydra and cleaning the Augean Stables, were disqualified because he received assistance.