She walked until she got to the station, feeling heavily conflicted, only stopping to put her shoes on. Godwin followed her silently, giving her space. When they arrived, only ten scattered and frantic minutes later, she felt like an hour had passed. Her heart was beating like crazy and her tumultuous emotions were swirling around, making her feel nauseous.

She was ashamed of herself for how she broke up with Chip. He was probably crying at home right now, eating pizza and watching his dumb football movie. She was mortified at how good she had felt when she came, totally using Chip for her own pleasure. It was disgraceful how sexy she had found the taste of Chip’s blood when it mingled with his…oh god, she had swallowed his…oh god. She was horrified that she had gotten so worked up while giving Chip a blow job, but only because Godwin had been watching. What was wrong with her? How was she so messed up? Oh god…

She turned to head down the steps into the bowels of the train station, but Godwin’s hand on her forearm stopped her flat, his touch a sending a surge of calm into her. It wasn’t enough to impact the strength of emotion that was building up inside of her, and she pushed him off, turning back to the stairs.  

“Wait, please,” he requested softly. He sounded so concerned and vulnerable that she couldn’t help but turn around. He reached forward quickly and grabbed her, his touch light yet commanding, pulling her away from the station. She followed reluctantly, letting him lead her away from her ride home. The only reason she didn’t pull away from him was his raw display of vulnerability.

He dragged them both to a small, secluded bench a dozen or so yards away from the entrance to the station. He sat her down with both of his hands on her shoulders. She hated that she loved how his hands felt on her shoulders, then she hated herself for hating it. Wasn’t she allowed to enjoy things, too?

“Please, stop tormenting yourself. I apologize, I was wrong to push you so far so fast. Please,” he entreated as she turned from him, his disappointment a physical pain in her chest. Why did she have to mess up everything? “No, no, Seneca, do not turn from me. You did wonderfully tonight!”

She studied the scenery to the right of them, forcing herself not to look at Godwin. They sat upon a metal bench up under a sick-looking ornamental city tree. “I want to go home,” she replied clipped. Conflicted, she locked up, unable to turn back to him, and unable to leave him.

He placed his finger under her chin, sending her heart to her throat and wetness to her core. Even though she didn’t want to, she allowed him to turn her head. The look on his face, worry and concern for her, melted her heart just a little.

“I will take you home if you wish, but…perhaps you could help me, and let me help you first?” he asked her.

“Help you?” she asked him, confused. “What do you need help with?”

“I wish for you to feed me. Would you, Seneca?” he asked, need in his voice. It sent another gush into her panties. His eyes were pure silver, the sclera and irises completely missing. Quicksilver pools, his eyes. She sunk into them, unable to help herself.

“Like before?” she asked him distractedly, “with a kiss?”

He nodded, his finger trailing down her chin as he dropped his hand back into his lap.

She could help him, she could redeem herself. And…she found she wanted to do it. But…not here. She wanted to help him, but not here, not in the open, even if no one could see them, like he said. It was still hard for her to believe that no one would see them. And even if they couldn’t, well, it made her feel weird. She wanted to feel…comfortable.

“Okay,” she agreed softly, pushing her emotions down. She tried to shove them inside that box inside herself but she couldn’t seem to lock them away today. She growled internally, then ignored them instead. “But not here. Where can we go that is private?”

He perked up as if he had been awaiting her refusal, his silver eyes shimmering with happiness. “Understood. My residence is nearby, if you desired to retire there for a time?”

“You live around here?” she asked incredulously. Immediately she felt dumb for doing so. Of course he lived somewhere. She just hadn’t thought of an incubus renting an apartment. It seemed a little too normal. Absurdly normal, actually, which made her chuckle.

He smiled warmly at her. “Does that mean you find visiting my domicile acceptable?”

She shifted uneasily, feeling like this was a trap. “I don’t know…” she trailed off. “Nothing with you is simple, Godwin. I just met you and I…the last two days have been crazy. I feel out of control. Should I go home with you? Is that a good idea?” she asked, turning it back to him.

He smiled warmly. “We are partners, Seneca. I will stand by whichever decision you come to choose. Personally, I would find it most acceptable if you were to accompany me.”

She snorted. “You speak so weird sometimes, you know?” She looked away from him again, watching people stream down the sidewalk to where ever they were heading on a Friday night. For a simple moment they were just two people sitting on a park bench, watching the world flow by.

She sighed, breaking the peace of the moment. “Okay, let’s go to your place.”

Godwin beamed, standing up quickly. He grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet. “You, little hansa…you bless me with your generosity.”

Before she could think of how to respond he pulled her down the street, presumably towards his home. Where their hands were connected felt like an open current, tingly sensations stemming from her hand into the rest of her body.  

He rushed, pulling her happily down the street. He didn’t speak, just rushed down the sidewalk, excitement evident in his step. Before long he turned down a small alley, which opened into another road, this one much dirtier and shabby then the main street. Trash was strewn along the gutters of the road, and the whole place looked tired and worn down. He pulled her another two blocks down this street, then stopped in front of a nondescript door on the side of a boring looking brick building. To the left of the door was a small grocery stand, fresh fruits and veggies stacked up with handwritten cards detailing the prices, an old woman sitting behind them reading a worn paperback novel. On the right was a liquor store with wrought iron bars in the windows and doors advertising electronic smoking apparatus, state minimum pricing, and loosies.

Godwin dropped her hand for a moment, pulling a keyring from the pocket of his suit. He slid a key into the lock and pushed the door open, reaching back for her as he slipped the key back into his pocket. She hesitated only a second, but he saw it. There was worry and nervousness on his face, and the fact that she could make a demon, an incubus, nervous, gave her a surge of confidence. She grabbed his hand, stepping through the door and inside the narrow hallway.

He lead her down the hallway until it opened up into a well lit stairwell, then urged her forward as they climbed the steps.

“My apartment is on the top floor,” he told her apologetically. “I do not usually take the steps…”

“There is an elevator?” she asked as they cleared the first landing and began the second one.

He smiled back at her, so refreshingly sexy. “No, no elevator.”

He was teasing her. “If there’s no elevator, how do you get up here?” she asked, taking the bait. “Another Daeva trick?”

He turned back long enough to wink at her. “Of course.”

So frustrating! “Godwin!” she barked in playful annoyance. They cleared the second landing and she could feel her calves starting to burn with exertion.

“I will show you sometime, but not tonight. Is that fair?” he replied, speeding up on the steps, taking them two at a time in his excitement.

She pouted but he wasn’t looking at her so she stopped. “Sure,” she agreed easily, moving to keep up with him despite the protest from her calves. “But I will hold you to it!”

His laughter made her excited. It was strange, that something so simple as making Godwin laugh could make her feel this way. “Oh, little hansa, I expect you to do just that.”

They made it to the top of the stairwell and Godwin pulled open a large fire door, leading them into another narrow hallway. It wasn’t nearly as well lit as the stairwell, which made the long hallway appear dirty. Doors lined the hallway, all with numbers starting with 3, evens on the left and odds on the right.

Smells of cooked food wafted from doorways as they walked down the corridor, mingling with the smells of people living close together. She wrinkled her nose, the strong scents mixing together. Sounds were too loud as they passed by, TVs on too loud, snippets of conversations in several languages, sounds of running water and other domestic life. Her nerves were on edge again, the smells too strong and the noise too loud and the lighting too dim. It made her feel closed in and on edge.

He stopped at the last door on the left, plastic numbers sticking out of the door above the peephole, 320. She noticed he did not pull keys out of his pocket to open this door. He pressed one hand against the door firmly, just under the numbers, then pushed the door open, not even turning the handle. The door swung inwards and he stepped into the darkness within.

“You don’t lock your door?” she asked him as she followed him inside, looking back over her shoulder down the noisy, smelly hallway.

A light clicked on just as the door slipped shut behind her. All of the offensive smells and sounds behind her disappeared as the door shut, the latch clicking softly. “No need. It only responds to my touch. Only I may access this space.”

“So, no one can open your door but you?” she asked. His room smelled of him, a strong scent of vanilla with a tinge of something else. The smell was illusive, tickling her nose pleasantly, teasing her senses.

She looked around, enjoying the room immensely. She had been worried that his apartment would be dingy from the hallway, but it wasn’t. The room was small, but it felt warm and comfortable. There were no couches, instead he had large, plush cushions and pillows lining two of the walls, a window with lush dark curtains just above the center of them. The room was dim, lit by strings of runner lights along the ceiling. A small, low table sat in front of the cushions, an empty coffee mug and an open map of the city on top of it. The wall behind it was cut out and it was dark in the room, but she could smell water and figured it was a small kitchen area. Next to the cutout was a doorway in, and beside that was a small hallway she assumed led to his bedroom.

“Yes, this ingress is trained only to respond to me,” he answered matter of factly, kicking off his shoes by the door.

“Ingress? You mean door? You make it sound like the door is alive…” she replied, following his lead and kicking off her shoes. Since she walked down the street a good way barefoot before she stopped to put her shoes on, her feet were probably just as dirty as her shoes. She tried to wipe them on the rug just on in the inside of the door where he had left his shoes. She noticed that the whole room had beautiful wooden floors, shiny and warmly colored. The floor felt wonderful under her feet as she stepped into his apartment.

“The door itself is not alive, perse. It is of Daeva origin, something I was able to smuggle with me across the boundaries of our realms when I…departed. The organism is not the door, it is part of the apartment, a guardian of sorts,” he said as he moved through the apartment, heading towards the entryway into what she had assumed was the kitchen. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Do you desire a beverage?”

She found a comfortable looking cushion and sat down. The cushions were deep shades of red, brown and black, and were firm, yet soft enough that she sank into them, immediately comfortable. She sighed pleasurably. “Sure,” she replied as she snuggled into the cushions. They were heavenly, and they smelled strongly of Godwin, vanilla and…the desert. He smelled like vanilla and desert heat, totally masculine. His smell surrounded her headily, sending her butterflies alight again. She was in his apartment! She almost squealed in delight, barely restraining herself.

“Do you prefer coffee or tea or water? I was not exactly expecting company, many apologies that I do not have more to offer…” he trailed off, a frown in his voice.

“No, water is good!” she exclaimed, feeling bad for putting him out. She pressed herself even deeper into the cushions.

He returned a moment later with two glasses of water. He handed one to her and she leaned forward to take it. She sipped it, then placed it on the table as he set his own down next to hers. He shrugged off the jacket to his overly formal suit to reveal a pale dress shirt beneath. The shirt clung to his chest alluring as he tossed the jacket behind him. It disappeared before it hit the ground.

“How do you do that?” she asked as he sat down next to her, leaving about a foot of space between them on the cushions.

“Do what?” he asked as he turned his body towards her.

“Make your clothes change like that? I know you said it is a Daeva trick, but how do you do it?” she pestered.

“Hmm…how do your vehicles work in this world? There is nothing like them in my homeland. Can you explain that?” he asked, sipping his water carefully.

“It’s complicated. I don’t…I actually don’t understand how cars work other than you put fuel into them and then they run,” she said, leaning closer to him. He smelled so good. She saw in the lighting that his eyes were still full pools of mercury. The lights in the room made them sparkle.

“You see, it is the same for me. I know it works, I know how to do it, but I do not understand the complexities behind the operations,” he explained. He mirrored her own body language, moving closer to her as well.

“Oh,” she said simply, her heart drumming in her chest with her nervous excitement. He was nervous, too, she could see it in his posture, in the way he held his hands tightly in his lap. Silence filled the space between them, spanning the single foot as if it were miles.

He watched her, his eyes heavy weights on her and she leaned forward more, shifting so she could be closer to him. “So, ah…” she lead.

He smiled and inched forward, too. “Seneca.” He said her name reverently. It was as if they were the only two people in the world.

“What should I do, Godwin?” she whispered, her whole body turning towards him.

“Feed me, Seneca. Please, feed me…” he said, his tone both demanding and imploring at the same time, his eyes glinting with desire.

Her hand reached out, cupping his face in her palm. He leaned into it, closing his eyes. “Your hands are cool…your touch is refreshing,” he murmured softly.  She shifted even closer to him, so that her knees were touching his legs. He leaned towards her and she pulled his face close to hers.

Guilt flooded into her gut. She had just broken up with Chip and here she was, getting ready to kiss another man, one she had just met yesterday. She leaned away from him and his face fell, making her feel even guiltier.

Seneca,” he said softly, his tone careful as if he were speaking to a stray cat. His hand closed over hers, keeping it resting on his face. It was smooth under her palm and her finger traced the line of his jaw. “This is not bad, this thing between us. It is our nature, who we are. Do not think of it as a kiss, for between us it does not have to be so. Think of it as feeding. Give me your emotions, for that is my sustenance, as blood is yours.” His fingers stroked the back of her hand.

She bit her lip, his words making her feel better even as her rationality fought against them. His fingers continued to stroke her hand, his eyes holding her own.

“Your eyes are weird,” she whispered. “They are all silver.”

He nodded, pressing his cheek into her palm. “My nature slips through when I feel strongly. I highly desire the meal you may gift me.”

Her other hand, the traitor, cupped his other cheek. Godwin smiled his smile, the sexy one that made her core feel tight and her guilt diminished, though he made no move to initiate the kiss. She could feel his tension beneath her fingers as he waited for her to make her decision.

She wanted to feed him, she really did. She leaned forward and brushed her lips across his and he trembled under her hands. His trembling was such a turn on. It built up her confidence, making her want to press forward. He made no move to kiss her, despite his lips mere centimeters from hers.

“Seneca…” he whispered. She shivered now, her name magic on his lips.

She could hold back no longer. Her lips were over his and he opened for her. She kissed him carefully, slowly exploring his mouth with her own. He gave her the lead, returning her kissing without taking control of it. Kissing him was amazing. She had never kissed anyone like this, and kissing had never felt like this with anyone else.

Before she realized it, she was straddling his lap. She didn’t even realize she was on top of him until she felt his manhood between her legs, pressing firmly against her own sex. He moaned as she pressed her weight into it, enjoying how good it felt. But…he wasn’t feeding. She didn’t feel the coiling of her emotions like the last time.

Distressed, she pulled away, panting. “Why aren’t you feeding?” she asked breathily. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No!” he blurted, his hands tensing as if she would leap from his embrace. She realized his arms were around her back, holding her tightly. When had that happened? “I would like…” he trailed off uncertainly.

“What?” she asked, her head swimming with the taste of him. “What do you want?”

“Seneca, please, I wish for you to give yourself to me. Before, I pulled your sentiment from you. I…” he trailed off again as if afraid she would say no.

“I don’t know how,” she told him truthfully, rising up onto her knees. “I will, Godwin, I want to. How do I do it?”

He pulled her back down on top of him, kissing her chastely. “Oh, hansa, you are perfect. Kiss me again, then open that place inside yourself where you send your feelings so you do not have to experience them. Open that place, then push those emotions to me.”

She settled back on top of him until his member was comfortably positioned against her core. “Okay,” she said, shifting her hips. He squirmed under her, encouraging her, so she did it again. “I’ll try.”

His hands moved to her hips, holding her in place. She smiled at him quickly then dove in, pressing her way into his mouth. She did what he said, finding that place inside of herself. It made her nervous to mess with it, but she trusted Godwin. She imagined opening the box.

She tried to pull away from him as her emotions burst forward like a kick in the gut. He held her in place, his hands heavy on her back. He pulled her closer to him, nearly crushing her body to his. She thought she could feel him encouraging her and she regained her focus. Imagining her emotions as a thread, she spooled them up in her stomach and then slowly started pushing them towards her connection with Godwin.

So slowly, her emotions drained from her. As she continued to push them they sped up, and she relaxed into Godwin’s body as the bad feelings leaving her became something else entirely. The emotions turned into pure pleasure as they streamed from her mouth into his.

Her hips began to rock over the pressure of him between her legs, creating a fantastic friction, which just encouraged her to rock harder and faster. His hands moved around her body now, one threading through her hair, one gripping her butt, pushing her hips back and forth, spurring her on further. She wrapped her own arms around his neck, asserting herself into his mouth. Kissing Godwin was…she never knew kissing could feel like this. Had she been doing it wrong her whole life?

Heat built up in her core, even better than when she had been drinking Chip while he watched. As soon as she felt it, the guilt from that thought flowed effortlessly from her into him. All of her bad feelings, the guilt and self depreciation and anger, it all flowed away from her. She felt lighter and lighter by the minute.

Could he feel what she had felt when she fed him? If so, it wasn’t fair if she only gave him the bad feelings. She wanted him to feel good, too. She could share with him the enjoyment he had given her earlier. Thinking of how she felt when she came onto her fingers while drinking Chip, with Godwin’s eyes on her pushing her over the edge, she spooled those feelings and sent them to him through their connection.

He growled in his throat and his hips jumped as she pushed that feeling through. His growl was so primal, so demanding, so sexy. Her hips moved faster and he pushed her against himself, both of his hands on her butt now. She kissed him, their mouths frantic against one another as the heat in her core built up, higher and higher and higher.

He bit her lip gently, catching it on his teeth and holding it. The action cut her off from sending any more of her earlier experience to him. The possessiveness of his bite pushed her over the edge and an unexpected orgasm hit her, rocking her hard, causing her fangs to drop. She heard moaning and was both ashamed and aroused to find that it was her making those erotic noises. Godwin’s hips bucked up into hers as she came and she longed to feel him inside of her, a desire she had never felt before.

Her hips slowed, then stopped as her orgasm released her and she slumped onto him. She nuzzled his neck, feeling his pulse beat frantically beneath it, wondering what it would taste like to come with his blood on her lips. She wasn’t hungry for blood, having fully sated on Chip earlier, so she contented herself with just nuzzling and nipping at his artery.

“Do not…bite…hansa…” he drawled slowly, his voice thick as if he had just woken up. Or had an orgasm, perhaps?

“I wasn’t,” she breathed against his throat. “I’m full. Just enjoying how your pulse feels under my lips.”

He shifted, wrapping his arms around her. He leaned his head back against the cushion, his eyes closed, and sighed in satisfaction. “I do not wish to…bind you…if you do not choose it.”

She went to respond to him that she wanted this, very much, but he pushed a finger over her lips.

“Shh, hansa,” he whispered lazily, his eyes still closed. “Just enjoy the feeling. Enjoy this moment.”

Nodding, she relaxed into him, resting her lips on the pulse in his neck. “Was that good?” she asked him self consciously.

“So much better than good, hansa. So much. Now, shh. Let us enjoy the afterglow together,” he said softly, stroking comforting circles onto her back. It felt so good, he felt so good that she drifted off to sleep in his arms.

She woke when he shifted her, moving to lay her down on the cushions. “Shh,” he whispered to her. “You may sleep if you wish.”

She sat up, her head feeling clearer than it had in a long time. She felt good. In fact, she felt better than she could remember feeling in a long time. She was instantly awake. “No, I don’t want to sleep.”

“How do you feel, little hansa?” he asked her as he stood up. She could see the front of his pants was stained and wondered if she had brought him to completion, but was too nervous to ask. Maybe it was her own fluids staining his pants, which was even more embarrassing.

“I feel…amazing,” she admitted. “I can’t remember feeling this good…ever.”

He smiled warmly, then turned away from her, walking towards the dark hallway. “I am going to clean up, if you do not mind.”

“Can’t you just magic your clothes away?” she called after him as he disappeared around the corner.

“Alas,” he called back to her, “I cannot. I can remove the clothing, but the mess I made will remain. Nothing a shower will not remedy. Please, make yourself at home. I will return in a jiffy.”

She chuckled. He said jiffy.

Then her face burned as she realized that he basically admitted that he had come. She had made him come. God, that was hot. It made her all tingly inside. She brought an incubus to orgasm just by feeding him emotions and some heavy petting. She smiled, thoroughly satisfied.

She took the opportunity to look around his apartment. It didn’t feel like they were still in the same building with the smells of cabbage and sweat and pizza, the sounds of too many people living too close together, the headache of constant noise and scents assaulting her. This space felt isolated and…different. As if they were someplace else entirely. She wondered if it had something to do with what he had mentioned earlier, about why he didn’t lock his door.

She would have to remember to ask him about it later. She didn’t feel like snooping, still feeling so light and good from the night, so content, that she didn’t want to ruin it. Instead she threw herself back so that she was laying down on the cushions. Propping her head up with a pillow, she allowed herself to drift, clearing her mind for the first time in a long time. She felt so safe, so right here with Godwin that she didn’t want the night to end.

Her stomach growled just as Godwin emerged from the hallway, dressed in yet another suit, all black with a deep red accents along the cuffs and collar, and a matching scarf tucked into the jacket pocket. He caught her lounging, sprawled out, and something in his eyes flickered. If she hadn’t been looking at him, she would have missed it, though she had no idea what it meant.

“You look like a large predator, satisfied and freshly sated. Yet…I hear you hunger yet. I, myself, could use a bite to eat. Would you like to accompany me to find an acceptable late dinner, and afterwards I could escort you home?” he asked her, reaching to her to pull her up from the cushions.

“Sure,” she said, grabbing his hand. He pulled her up beside him and she swayed for a second as her legs refused to work properly. He supported her as her legs learned how to stand again. “I’m starving all of a sudden,” she admitted, looking forward to dinner with Godwin.

The Game Chapter 5: Safeword

The Game Chapter 7, Good Morning