Holy shit, Emery thought, at first concerned she may have gone too far too fast despite what he'd told her earlier--and then transfixed as those scarlet eyes met hers. There was a kaleidoscope of emotion within them: passion, maybe a little fear mixed with the excitement, and her heart beat all the quicker for it. This was a man that slayed unimaginable monsters, a man that could throw her off and pin her quicker than she could blink...
...and he was utterly and completely at her mercy because he wanted to be there. Because he trusted her, and she him.
God, she had never been exposed to magic until he came along; perhaps she was enchanted.
And at this point? Fuck it.
Alkereth was her instrument and he performed beautifully, letting himself go, freely letting himself indulge, crying his pleasure--and it was too much. His whimpers, his helpless squirming, his fluttering pulse, the adorable expressions he made, his shameless proclamation that he was her princess--oh God, she could never in a million years have predicted that such a goofy, offhand nickname would soon be the thing boiling her over with a thrill of possessiveness, yet here she was, and he was hers. She didn't understand that feeling; she didn't want to. But it didn't matter, right?
All that mattered was the moment.
"That's my princess...good boy," she gasped out, hand tightening just a little on his throat, just enough to add a little pressure, a little extra danger, but no more. More was a discussion for later. She pressed her lips against his to muffle a whimper, nibbling sharply, trembling with the effort of holding back; he could no doubt feel it as she clenched around him. Just a little longer. "I think that deserves a treat. Would my princess like that?" And with an impish smile, she kissed his nose. "No cumming. Otherwise no treat."
That might be difficult to impossible for him and she knew it--going a second time was impressive enough already, bless his otherworldly genes!--but it was fun to watch him squirm.
Releasing her hold on him, she rode him in earnest then, grabbing one of his hands and bringing it between her legs with a clear message. It didn't take much, worked up as she was, the feeling of him stretching and filling her again and again, her eyes locked on his, driving her to the brink--and then over it. Head thrown back, she cried out as heat and pleasure flooded her and she trembled and tightened around him, and still she rode him through the release, desperately squeezing out every last drop of ecstasy that she could.