Netta, emboldened by the waves of his desire that she felt, finally did as she had so longed to do. She tasted his furred chin, his neck, thrilled at the electric sensation of her tongue and flesh, sensing where the illusion of a physical form stopped. Ash tasted of Earth and not unpleasantly of ozone, as though he were the leftovers of a clap of lightning, his chest hair rubbing raw over sensitized, cold skin.

She lowered her head, flicked her tongue over the puckering curves of one of his nipples, felt a thrill of joy at his surprised moan, then returned for another go before laving at its twin on his broad chest.

Gone was all thought of her supposedly impending deaths, all Netta could give thought to was the greed that he used to tease her for. Had he always been able to read her true desires, as though it had been written on her face, every time she had looked at him?

Netta did not know, but as Ash seemed to regain some measure of composure - at least, long enough to stop spasming, as though in a state of extended rapture, as Netta suckled and licked his skin wherever she could touch - he took hold of her and, with a brisk movement, laid her back on the bed.

Ash moved with speed the precluded him from the remotest possibility that he was a Human man.   As soon as Netta's back struck the smooth - satin? Silk? - of the sheet, Ash rolled his body against her, his hectic, wild breathing and the scorching feel of his naked flesh searing. She was so enraptured by the feel of his large, rough body sliding against hers that she only became aware of Ash's voice as he hoarsely babbled when she felt his shaking hands cupping her.

"Oh... sweet Witch, you're always so ready for me, is it possible, are you needing me now -"

Ash stopped talking as he moved a heavy, large hand, pushing her thighs apart, pushing long fingers inside of Netta.

She gasped, fell back on the bed, groaning. Netta's hips rose up from the bed as though the penetration had roused the lower half of her body into his thralldom, pushing those fingers deeper inside.

Even lost, she could hear Ash's strangled voice, sounding less and less Human, it seemed, the longer she could hear his familiar, rough voice. "So soft, wet, warm," when he spoke next, he sounded as though he could barely get the words out. "tight."

To be discovered to almost always be ready for his touch had embarrassed Netta the first time he had tested her readiness. Now, hungrily recalling the intimacy she felt was soon to come, like witnessing a storm building on the horizon, Netta was eager. Frustrated.

She thrust back up, a weak moan slipping out of her slack mouth.

Ash let out a loud, almost maddened groan. When Netta lowered her head from how she had arched her neck, she saw that Ash had thrown his own head back, his whole body taut, an entire mouth full of sharp teeth revealed in a strained grimace. He looked agonized, every muscle in his body standing out in harsh contrast.

Netta acted without thought, hungering for a connection to the tormented man who looked as though he were losing control of himself. She fell back on the bed, stretching up, grabbing for the hand that trembled against her hip, clutching it.

Ash gasped, when he looked down at her, the reds in his eyes seemed to grow, to take over even the whites surrounding his irises.

Netta moved as though possessed by another will, staring at his shocked face as she slid further down the bed, sliding herself free from the lush fullness that his fingers spread through her. She slipped her thighs around him, until they were pressed to either side of his strong hips, Ash's cock thrumming, full and overhot, against her already over sensitized flesh.

They stared at each other, and Netta thought that she could see the shock she felt reflected back in his features.

Even in light of all of Ash's earlier talk of truces, this moment felt as though it would most define whatever it was that they were.  And could be.

Ash blinked, then in a single, smooth movement, he reared back, thrusting into Netta.

Choked cries, as they rocked against each other. Ash was relentless, filling and pulling nearly loose, thrusting with abandon, with Netta's body able to accommodate her unnatural lover's flesh and will, but could not do a thing to keep away the reaction that the magic he was made out of caused as it sizzled, burned her body.

How was she supposed to last long, with Ash giving reality to all of his teasing and seduction? It felt like she had just reached forward, forcing Ash's head down so that she could kiss him, feel his magic as it stung her lips, burned, when she felt the choking stupor of the first waves of her orgasm as it tore through her.

Netta was still writhing, legs locked tight around Ash's hips, when he managed to pull loose from her, using his lack of a true physical form to his advantage.

She barely heard him say it, almost did not attribute it as belonging to his voice, when Ash said, simply, "That's one."

About to ask what he meant, Netta gasped, still feeling as though she were being boiled alive by the sheer pressure of the sensations that ripped through her, as Ash lowered himself back on top of her. He started to kiss her, and at first she was still too stunned to react, hearing as he moaned against her lips, hands madly caressing her, stimulating flesh that was touched by the cold of the winter wind, then was warmed as though touched with the work-hot hands of Hephaestus.

He didn't give her a moment to recover, ducking down, throwing her legs onto his shoulders. The kiss, on her still spasming pussy, had Netta letting out a choked sob.

He laved, lapping like a beast dying of thirst, the sheer lack of finesse proof of his abundant desire, hunger. Ash's tongue seemed to grow with each lap and roll, running everywhere except her clitoris.

Netta gave out a moan, then thrust her hips, needing the friction and wet heat of his tongue against her swollen clit.

Ash let out a shudder, the shockwave of it traveling from his broad shoulders, up her legs, and up her abdomen. She felt like she was being ruthlessly worn down until Ash was rubbing her nerves raw. He pulsed his tongue around the swelling bud, had Netta grabbing his hair in an ungentle grasp that would have torn the roots out of a man's head. 

At least, a Human man's.

Netta thrust against his tongue as he ran it, cupping the vulgar muscle around the oversensitized mass, making rough moans that sounded like an animal lapping up its meal. She leaped up against the untender rhythm he created, thrusting against his tongue. Against all logic, Netta was building to a great release of energy, so shortly after he had thoroughly fucked the first one out of her.

Netta was sobbing, pressing him to her with shaking hands as she felt herself bursting. Her head had thrown back and Netta was begging Ash, repeating his name, sounding even to her own ears as though she were frantically begging him to not literally devour her in a panic.

The penetration came as the climax seemed to be waning, and it felt to Netta as though she were being drowned underneath the sheer mass of her own desires and lusts. Ash shoved his elongated tongue, burying it deep for a moment before he began to roughly pump it in and out, his large hands clamped around Netta's shaking thighs.

When, finally, the climax ended, Netta fell back on the bed, chest heaving as she struggled to breathe. She felt the fullness, the burning, thick mass, pull from out of her with a shocked start that had her clawing the sheets.

In spite of the fact that her breath left in a cloud from the surely near-freezing temperature, Netta felt the sweat as it slipped down her body, rolling down hot skin. Her whole body lay, tense and will-less.

She felt as Ash moved, slipping back up her body with the natural grace of a snake through water, his barbarian's form covering hers in excruciating heat. When she gazed down, Netta realized, with a start, that the Monster was rolling the same tongue he had boldly thrashed in and against her up her body as he moved, seeming to slither up her sweating abdomen, then between her breasts. His horns - those great, madness-inducing embodiments of chaos - looked, for a moment, as though they were set on impaling her as he traveled up her body. Ash's eyes glowed like coals tossed from a fire, his gaze locked on the flesh he was passing over.

Netta squirmed in anticipation, and when he had at last slipped over her vulnerable, pulsing throat and her chin, slathering his muscular, long tongue over every trace of skin he passed, Netta's mouth fell open.

Ash seized the opening, thrusting his tongue first in her mouth, then writhing his lips against hers, as though he was struggling to transform impure desire and need into something sentimental.

Netta's arms came around, groped for the large expanses of his shoulder blades, grasped onto slick, hot skin. She was completely gone mentally by the time Ash pulled away from her mouth, dragged his wet, hungry mouth to one of her ears, dragged a knowing, wicked tongue over and against the conch-like curves of her ear as though he were mimicking the similar way he had earlier laved her to orgasm.

Ash's husky voice betrayed lust, but also no small amount of wicked humor. "There's two."

Something broke in Netta, some crucial barrier that kept her from crawling on Ash, from acting out long memorized fantasies. She pushed Ash back, registering the look of blank surprise on his face for a moment before he fell back on the bed, arms spread out wide like wings.

Laid on the bed, Netta found the aspect of Ash that he had, for all of her adult life, alluded to and had given her such horrible - wonderful - torment with.

His cock looked heavy, and as Netta took hold of it in her hand, it felt not just heavy, but thick, the heat pulsing off of it in waves.

Ash croaked out what sounded like a mix between a sob and a groan, then gave a helpless thrust. His voice was not enough to make Netta raise her gaze up, as she was transfixed by holding the clearest sign of the fact that Ash wanted to be viewed most as a male. "Oohh, you really don't know what you're doing, Nett-"

There was no time to have any consideration for what he was saying. There was, after all, a lifetime's worth of repressed desires and fantasies that frolicked freely in Netta's mind. Her tongue poked out of her mouth as her hand slid down the creature's penis, realizing, with a shiver, why her hand could slide against the satin smooth flesh of his foreskin so effortlessly. It was coated in wet warmth. Her wet warmth.

It came to Netta in a rush, the realization of what she was doing. Sexual acts with one of his kind, at least, the sort that she was pondering, as she stared at the heavy, root-like appendage, was an invitation to her own doom, the height of depravity. Giving such attention, expressing a single minded focus in the manner she was imagining, was so unthinkable that it lay at the very throbbing heart of her masturbation fantasies.

Netta bit her bottom lip and trailed a shaking hand, palm first, down the length of his cock, then, with barely a pause, slid her hand down. She cupped the pulsing masses of his testicles, shivering as she felt how they spilled out of her hands, felt heavy.

Ash let out a loud hissing breath that sounded like steam escaping some large, heavy machine. Still, he did not move, aside from how he trembled.

It was too much for Netta to resist dropping to her knees, raising her other hand out to slide up from the base of his cock to the pulsing head. As she leaned in closer, she became aware of the heady scent that seemed to pulse off of him in waves.

He smelled like sex incarnate, powerful. Compelling.

She should not have been considering it, and for once, Netta would have done well to obey something Ash told her.

But as she ducked her head, all thought had left Netta's mind, as a heavy emptiness felt like it spread up her abdomen and possessed her.   Her mouth watered - she was actually drooling, tongue parting her lips as she sank, lower, to her own certain destruction.  Netta fully parted her lips and she sealed them around the head of Ash's penis.

Netta felt a violent blow on the sheet above her - Ash slamming a fist, helplessly, against the bed? - then heard him cry out. "Fuck, Witch!" Ash rough voice, hoarse, felt like he was striking her with his shock.

What possessed Netta was nothing less than a life time's worth of sexual fantasies, desires to not concede control to the creature who thought he could push her over some borderline that she had never before imagined. Even after being in her mind on more than one occasion, feeling what she did while in the throes of over-stimulation from his tongue and cock inside of her, did Ash have some image of Netta in mind, of a quaking Human whose mind was virginal?

Fantasy kicked down the first hurdle, but it was nothing in comparison to the experience of having the answer to her lustful wishes laid out in front of her. Trembling, pulsing to vivid life, hot -

And tasting, vibrantly, of Netta herself.

She swirled her tongue out, like she was savoring the first lap at a large, sweet treat. All it took was one lap with her tongue, and Netta found herself unable to stop another roll with her tongue, then another. It spread their shared taste through her mouth, filled her nostrils with the smell of desperate, maddened sex and the cloying, darkly compelling, sweating flesh that belonged to a creature who wore all of the trappings of masculinity as a mark of his personality manifested.

Ash shuddered, and Netta felt the heavy flesh in her mouth give a pulse, then tasted the fluid that she unintentionally lapped up. She almost stopped, retracting the curious tongue back into her mouth as reality came dangerously close to stopping her.

It didn't matter that it was Ash that she was fellating. Ash was a Monster, only a few steps removed from a beast, and she had been taught that it was one of the few truly wicked things to give pleasure to something that was - not - Human.

She almost fully pulled her lips from around Ash's cockhead when she, pausing, tasted the sample of seminal fluid, rolling it in her mouth thoughtfully as though it were a lush wine.

She had heard, from a variety of sources, that a man's semen - or, in this case, precum - was supposed to taste, to varying degrees, either foul or was, simply, an "acquired taste." Ash's tasted like a sharp burst of something floral, but seemed to be hiding something headier, something that made Netta tremble to taste it. Was it possible that Ash's pheromones leeched out in this manner as well?

Goddess, but had she become overwhelmed entirely by his pheromones, was she acting against her normal will?  Could she be drugged on it, if she ingested too much of it? Or, as was more accurate, given how she was wantonly suckling at his body, could she overwhelm herself?

What would that be like?

Netta spared a glance up Ash's - beautiful, drawn utterly taut - body, gazed at his chin, for Ash looked as though he had all but given up any vestige of control on the situation, throwing his head back. As though sensing her gaze on him, he raised his head, looked down at her.

For a moment, Netta stared into his eyes, saw the transformation that had come over him. Gone was any shock, now he looked as though he was waiting, raw need burning in inhuman red eyes, pupils blown black and huge, lips fallen open, liable to release a helpless sound at any moment.

Netta felt her tongue flicking out, running over her upper lip, seeking more of the taste of Ash's precum.

Ash's eyes shot open wide, and Netta felt a breath rush out of his lungs, as though he had been holding it in.

Netta lowered her mouth back on him, swallowed, rolled her tongue, trying to recall, in a frenzy, how Ash had moved his tongue on her.  Netta's left hand rose to steady the thick stem she was slipping down, rolling her tongue along the sides of, as her right hand fell between her thighs. Her breath rose and fell out of Netta in a moaning rapture as she rose her lips up, then lowered her mouth, engulfing all of her olfactory senses with heat, pheromones, and the lingering taste of their earlier coupling.

The hand between her legs could not keep pace, falling into a frantic anti-rhythm that was as natural as the man Netta was kneeling over, laving at. She was losing herself in the sheer pleasure of giving into a long held fantasy, but at some point her gaze drifted up, saw Ash as he seemed to struggle with sitting up or splaying his legs out. The normally self-contained Monster looked lost, face contorted in what looked like pleasure so intense it was painful.

With a loud groan, Ash thrust his hips up, surprising Netta as she was slipping her mouth up, pushing her lips further down. "Net-ta-" Her name spilled from his lips in a hiss, then ended in a moan.

Ash had begun to thrust up, helpless movements that pulled Netta into a heavy rhythm that she replicated with trembling fingers on herself. At some point, Netta had exposed her mind to Ash's, and began to feel herself become infected with his feelings. With the on-coming, boiling orgasm that was about to burn through him.

And, oh, Goddess, Netta felt her own edging her towards certain madness. Her lips trembled, stretched to accommodate, to hungrily devour and suck. Ash's taste was surely branded in her mouth and down her throat, and after they were finished, she would surely never be able to forget what she was experiencing.

And, potentially, she may never be able to forgive herself for doing it.

For now, however, her left hand trembled, grasped the heaving organ she could not unlock her mouth from, right hand thrusting, mimicking the movements of the thick, slippery flesh that she was heaving her mouth over. 

You're doing it wrong, you're devouring him with the wrong orifice, how will you ever be able to take a Human lover after you've committed this -

Netta was bobbing madly, her mouth having coated Ash's cock entirely with saliva so her hand could pump where her mouth could not slide. She was lost, greed and a lust for the forbidden drawing her into a hunger she felt with every ounce of her flesh. Ash was thrusting up, grunting, the sound betraying his complete loss of any remaining vestige of humanity he aped at. His grunts sounded heavy, like rusting machinery and a predator's growls, the sound hardening Netta's nipples to a painful tightness as she violently moved her body back and forth.

The orgasm seemed to start on either end of the two conjoined shapes on the bed, meeting in the center as both bucked. Netta had fallen forward, choked on so much of Ash that she felt the spurt of thick fluid only when she rose her head up. Sitting up, Netta felt as the thick organ she had bathed in her saliva let out a fresh torrent, filling her mouth with Ash's cum.

She pulled her mouth loose, a hand rising up, pressing against her mouth. Netta barely registered the fact that she was not madly spitting, was rolling her tongue in the intoxicating fluid she had been, unexpectedly, gifted as recompense for her vigorous efforts. Her own orgasm played hell on her ability to think, leaving her in a daze as she sat on her knees, overlooking the golden-skinned Monster splayed on the bed.

She had no sooner than thoughtlessly swallowed the heady mix of Ash's semen and her abundant saliva than Ash regained control of his body, looking up at her. Slowly, he rose from his position, sitting up. For a moment, he gazed up at her, mouth fallen open as he breathed heavily. Sweat had glazed his forehead, drops of it trickling down his large nose, falling off one of his brows.

In his eyes, Netta saw an understanding that she had no choice other than to accept, even in her stupor. They had done much already before, but this was something else entirely. It had been entirely unprovoked, and had been, above everything else, an expression of what was much more than a long withstanding fantasy.

Netta trembled, realizing that there truly was no going back from this moment. Perhaps it was fear, but something - some manic, quivering joy - felt as though it prompted Netta to speak.

"That makes three."

Ash gazed up at her, unblinking, his face not revealing a single thought or emotion. Finally, he shook his head. "No."

Netta shivered, wanted to cover herself, rising hands to cover her over sensitized breasts. "No?"

Ash heaved out a breath, and when he spoke, he sounded, once more, like the Monster he truly was. "Not even close, Witch." He reached forward, wrapped a large arm around Netta, pushing her forward. With his other hand, he gently prised her arms away from her chest, and, with a relieved, heavy groan, buried his face against her breasts.

Netta arched fully against him, moaned.