But when he felt how wet she was, when she squirmed against where he was as hard as he had ever been, he lost control, shoving inside her tight heat.“God!” In her cry, Namtar heard equal parts pleasure and pain, but was unable to still his thrust until he was buried to the hilt.Once inside her, however, he struggled to regain control. He claimed her lips, demanded entrance to her mouth, tasting again the ancient fields of his youth, the offerings of fruit and bread and wine the worshippers had left at the shrines to Ereshkigal and her consort, Nergal. They had all partaken of the feast, from the death goddess herself down to the least of the lower gods, reveling in the power of godhood, never dreaming their time would come to an end.As Namtar slanted his mouth, gaining deeper access to the sweet darkness of the woman in his arms, it was as if he was there once again. He could smell the rich, newly turned Earth, feel the wind blowing across his bare skin, knew the power his kind gained from the tribute of mortals.
