They stopped at his apartment. The same woman sat outside the door to his apartment building in exactly the same way she had been before. Seneca wondered if it was a new book or the same one. She couldn’t see the cover the way she held it. The woman didn’t even look up at them as they walked past.
“You told me you’d show me how you get up to your apartment without taking the steps,” she reminded him as they began their climb. “I can tell how much your leg hurts you.”
He was limping heavily, favoring his left leg with each step. “I did not mention when I would show you,” he corrected her with a wink. “I prefer night to be upon us for my…demonstration.”
She pouted as they reached the first landing. “I can tell your leg hurts. Let me help you,” she entreated.
“The only way you could help me would be to feed me some of your excess emotions, little hansa. It would help to reduce the stiffness. What you fed me the other day helped me extensively, but I am afraid I pushed myself too hard since then,” he explained.
She nodded. “I can feed you,” she agreed eagerly.
“Even in the stairwell?” he asked her, one eyebrow expertly arched.
She blushed, she couldn’t help it. “I, ah, if…yes, if you need me to, I can. I don’t want you to be in pain, and it looks like you hurt a lot.”
“You wear a blush well. I almost regret the day we break you from blushing constantly. If you would, I would not take much, just enough to cut the pain…” he said coyly. “But, I want you to feed me as you did before, in my apartment.”
“I can’t!” she exclaimed, remembering how good it felt to ride him through their clothes while she fed him. “Not that far!”
He chuckled, the sound sweet like honey. “What are you thinking of, little hansa? I only meant that you pushed your emotions through, not the other gratification we pursued together. Only a kiss…”
She blushed harder. He grabbed her hands, pulling her towards him as he leaned back against the wall. She half fell against him and found herself pressed against his body, looking up into those quicksilver eyes. His irises were small again, just a pinpoint of black in a molten pool of silver, and she couldn’t break away from them until he blinked.
Her hands moved of their own accord, wrapping around his neck, pulling his face close to hers. His lips were soft under hers and she kissed him chastely, just a brush of her lips over his. Her sex tightened eagerly and she tried to suppress it before she got wet. That was not what she was doing. It was not about sex, this was just feeding.
“For me, it is always about sex,” he muttered just before he closed his mouth over hers, seeming to read her mind. He kissed her, blocking her from protesting, and her mind let the thought go as she sank down into the pleasure of his kiss.
They kissed in the stairwell and she lost herself to him until he pulled ever so slightly on her emotions, reminding her why they were making out in public in the first place. She coiled her emotions into a ball in her stomach, opening that box inside herself where her self hatred and guilt went. She pushed them at him, and then he was sucking them from her so strongly her toes curled in her shoes.
He abruptly broke off the kiss a moment later, pushing her so that she was standing with her back against the wall. Her head was spinning as she tried to collect herself. Had she done something wrong?
Not even five seconds later the fire door on the second floor slammed open and two kids with bikes burst loudly into the stairwell. They chatted noisily as they descended, nodding to her as they passed her on the landing. They ignored Godwin.
Once they passed by, she looked over at the incubus. She would have overlooked him if she hadn’t known where he was standing. It was as if her eyes couldn’t lock down on him. He met her eyes and his body locked back in place. It was weird, the way she hadn’t been able to fully see him. It bothered her.
He smiled at her and she felt better. “Shall we?” he asked her, nodding to the stairs before he began climbing again. She followed him up to the third floor landing, noticing that his limp was much better than it had been, though it was still present. She wondered if she could feed him enough to give him relief from his wounds, even if it was only temporary.
When his door shut behind her, blocking out the smells and sounds of his building, she sighed in relief. His apartment was so cozy and relaxing that she couldn’t help but want to throw herself onto the plush couches. He saw her eyeing them longingly and laughed.
“Make yourself at home, please,” he told her warmly. “You approve of my home?”
“It’s great, Godwin,” she said airily as she kicked off her flats and threw herself into the cushions. “Your apartment is so…I feel so at home here. I dunno what it is.”
He watched her under hooded eyes for a moment and she blushed, earning her a real smile from him. “I have something for you, if you so desire,” he said as he walked away from her, heading out of the room.
She didn’t say anything, just snuggled deeper into his cushions until she was so comfortable she could fall asleep. She sighed contentedly, feeling herself relax completely.
“It is that look you currently wear. I cannot even describe how erotic you are,” he said when he returned, a square black box in his hands. He held it reverently with both hands, falling to his knee before her. He flinched as his knee hit the ground but made no other indications that it hurt him. He bowed his head, the energy between them turning incredibly serious.
“What are you…” she trailed off as she sat up, confused at what was going on. His whole body was rigid as he proffered her the box.
“Seneca Mahon,” he said, his voice the most serious she had ever heard, “I humbly request the privilege of becoming pelang ya roseau ti jinaxi to you for as long as you accept my service.” He pushed the box towards her and she gently lifted it from his hands with both of her own.
The box was simple, black lacquered with a line of silver around the rim, hinged in the back. She ran her fingers around the seam of the box and it audibly clicked open, making her jump. Godwin watched her carefully, his gaze the heaviest she had felt it the whole day. She looked back down at the box, now cracked open slightly.
The box opened easily in her hands. Resting upon the black velvet lining inside was a large ring of fine polished silver wedged into a perfectly shaped indentation. It was gorgeous, the line of it so smooth looking she longed to run her fingers over it. She looked up at Godwin and he nodded, so she did.
The silver was cold under her fingertips, but that wasn’t what made her shiver. Something in her head seemed to resonate with the ring of silver. She pulled back and the resonation was gone. Carefully, she pried the ring out of the box and Godwin exhaled softly, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized he was holding.
“I don’t understand,” she said, running her fingers over the smooth silver, enjoying the humming in her brain. “What is a gah, ah, rousseau or whatever? What is this?”
Godwin said nothing, just watched her. She brought the ring to her face, inspecting it more closely. The delicate ring of silver, which couldn’t have been any taller than two millimeters, was inscribed with beautiful detail in what seemed to be some type of language. It flowed across the ring and she trailed her fingers across it, enjoying the texture under her fingertips. The ring had two seams, equidistance apart. One seam had tiny hinges, and the other seam was held together with a small black gem. She pressed the gem and the ring opened wide.
“What does it say?” she asked him, still inspecting the ring.
“It is written in my language. It says something like my master serves me as I serve my master,” he whispered reverently. “The meaning of the inscription…if you allow me to collar you…I would serve you through your subservience to me,” he said, his voice full of emotion.
Her hands shook, worried that she might do something wrong. This moment seemed important. “What did you say, before?” she asked him again.
“Pelang ya roseau ti jinaxi. It is the term for what I would become to you, your partner, if you grant me the privilege to collar you. It translates roughly into ‘servant of blood and spirit’,” he said softly, still not looking directly at her.
“What are the words? For servant?” She asked hesitantly.
“Peleng,” he said softly.
“And…What about master?” she asked shyly.
“Ghanza. May I…” he hesitated nervously, clearing his throat. “May I collar you, Seneca?”
She looked down at the silver ring, now hinged in half in her hands. It had warmed up considerably in her hands and had a pleasant weight to it. She nodded, handing it to him, the black lacquered box now a comfortable weight in her lap. She hadn’t realized she had put it down.
He took a deep breath and reached to take the silver collar from her hands. His fingers brushed hers as he took it and she swooned slightly. “What is your full name?”
“Huh?” she asked, completely taken aback by the change of topic. “Seneca Mahon?”
Godwin smiled softly. “Do you have any other names?”
“Like a middle name?” she asked, confused.
“Yes, what is your full name, given to you at birth by your parents?” he asked.
“Seneca Joy Mahon,” she answered carefully.
His smile disappeared and he sobered. “If I put this collar upon your neck, it will not come off again unless I remove it or our contract is voided. Do you understand?” he asked her seriously.
She looked up and their eyes locked. She felt herself sinking into those quicksilver pools. She nodded, not worried about taking off the collar. Some part of her wondered why she would allow herself to be collared by Godwin, but it felt right. She couldn’t explain it.
“Seneca Joy Mahon, If you agree to wear my collar, you agree to obey my commands to the best of your abilities, knowing also that I am bound to never afflict harm to you, mental or physical, actual or conceived. I, Godwin Delenge-Versi SynLilin, swear upon my house and my honor that by absolutely no means shall I violate your trust. Upon any such violation, your collar will disable and our agreement is invalid. Do you understand?” he asked. It felt ceremonious.
She nodded again and the silence stretched out between them as he held the collar in the palms of his hands, staring into her eyes.
“I agree,” she whispered, afraid to destroy the solemnity of the moment. “I want you to collar me. I want to wear your collar, Godwin.”
The smile on his face sent her heart soaring. “You honor me, Seneca Joy Mahon,” he declared jubilantly. He leaned forward, the collar gently held between his fingers now. “Are you sure?” he said softly, hesitating with the collar just before her neck.
She leaned in quickly until the collar was pressed against her throat. “Yes, you silly incubus,” she laughed as the metal clasped around her neck. Surprised, his fingers slipped, sliding over the silver and along her neck, pushing it closed completely. As it locked into place, she felt it prick her neck, her fingers flying to the black gem that was the clasp on the back of her neck.
Godwin fell into her lap, his fingers still on her neck. “It stung me!” she exclaimed in surprise.
He nodded, moving to push himself off of her, but she held him down, forcing him to stay in her lap. “It honors our promises with one drop of blood to power it.”
She was going to say something, but then she didn’t as a feeling of peaceful calm instantly overwhelmed her. She slumped down and her eyes slipped shut as she was powerless to stop her consciousness from submerging inside that deep calm. Godwin twisted, moving so that he was laying next to her on the cushions. He smelled so good, his vanilla and cloves and sex smell, and she longed to taste him.
Her body moved on its own as she buried her face in his neck, nuzzling the thin skin hiding his blood from her. She felt it pulse under her lips, each beat of his heart a plea for her to drink him in. He shifted his head, giving her more room at his neck. She wanted to bite, she longed to feel his hot blood gush into her mouth. Her fangs dropped and they ached to be inside of his skin. She yearned for the flavor of him, only having tasted a drop, barely enough to get a good taste.
He shifted again, pulling her body closer to him. He was so warm, his body so much hotter than hers, adding to his islander image in her head. She licked and kissed his pulse, so eager to break that skin and drink him deeply, yet still she didn’t bite him. Couldn’t bite him.
It didn’t frustrate her, though, like it would have otherwise. She still felt the intense calm that had come over her as soon as the collar closed around her neck. She just kissed and licked his neck, nibbling suggestively but never breaking the skin.
He was hard, she could feel him pressed against her leg. She longed to reach down and touch him, yet she didn’t. She wanted to bite him, and she didn’t. All of these things she wanted so strongly, yet she didn’t take any of them, because he hadn’t told her she could. It was binding and freeing at the same time, and she loved it. Her core flushed and she felt herself growing wet. She rubbed herself against his erection and he groaned. She could feel it vibrate in his throat.
“Seneca,” he struggled to say. His voice sounded thick, like she felt. “Seneca, deepen our bond, sweet vampire, but take only two swallows.”
She was both elated and disappointed. She wanted more. She wanted to fill herself with Godwin, both with his blood and with his generous manhood pressed against her thigh. She had never felt like this before, this desire to have a man in both ways, and it was waking something inside her, feelings she had never explored before.
Her fangs slipped into his skin like butter, and his rich, thick blood was coating her mouth. It was a lot thicker than she expected, and flowed more slowly than human blood, so she pulled on his neck, sucking more into her mouth. She wanted two full mouthfuls, she wasn’t going to settle for just two sips. The first gulp of blood slid down her throat, burning and coating it like good whiskey. His blood seeped into her mouth as she tried to memorize his taste. He groaned in pleasure, the vibrations tickling her lips. She was more turned on than she had ever been. She wanted him, wanted him so badly, was so wet, so ready for him.
She swallowed her second mouthful of blood, licking his throat to close the wounds, then moved to mount him, needing him inside of her like she had never needed anything else.
“Seneca,” he growled, pushing her back. She wanted to struggle, and was about to protest, to tell him how much she needed him when his blood entered her veins.
The sensation was so alien to her that she stopped breathing, closing her eyes as her veins caught on fire. His blood burned through her body, setting her alight, nerve endings firing rapidly. Her back arched and his hands were there, soothing her, petting her. He was cooing in her ear but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. She was being burned from the inside out, something changing inside of her.
The strangest thing, she thought to herself, was that for being on fire, it didn’t hurt. Not in the way she thought it should. Some detached part of her body was keeping tabs, watching everything from the wings of her mind. It was a feeling so good, yet so different, that she didn’t have words to describe it. It wasn’t pleasure like she was accustomed to, no it was different. Her body was changing, becoming more, and it was a welcome modification.
Time passed but she had no idea how much. Godwin never left her, though he did move. She could tell he was worried, but she wasn’t able to comfort him. She wasn’t able to move at all as his blood changed her body in ways she didn’t understand. His fingers trailed through her hair, over her face, over her body, soothing her through his touch. Everywhere his fingers traced left a beacon of light, his blood responding to him through her skin.
She fell asleep, she must have, for she woke half curled up in his lap. It was dark now, too, she could tell from the dimness of his room. The lights around the ceiling weren’t on, but she could still see enough with her nightvision.
“Hey, little hansa,” he whispered graciously. “I apologize that I was unable to-”
“Shut up, Godwin,” she croaked. Her throat was dry and her voice was scratchy. Worry lined his face, but she felt amazing. She reached up and kissed him, so quickly that he gasped in surprise. He didn’t respond at first, but he opened to her as he recovered from his shock.
She pushed her absolute calm into him. He moaned, pulling her face closer to him, greedily drinking in what she was feeding him. Too soon he pushed her away and she whined at the loss of his mouth over hers and the pleasant pressure of him pulling her emotions into him.
“Godwin…” she mumbled, settling into his arms. He was so warm around her, so comforting, that she didn’t want to leave. But…she hungered still. She ached for him. She craved him like nothing else. “I want more…”
He kissed her on the cheek. “Then we should go hunting.”
“I want you,” she begged him, “please.”
He shook his head, pulling her up with him as he sat up. Her body felt good, light and nimble. “Nobody wants a broken incubus, hansa,” he said sternly as he pushed himself to stand. He leaned down, offering her his hands, and she took them. The look on his face did not match the tone of his voice, confusing her. She couldn’t tell if he was upset with her.
He pulled her up off the floor and she fell forward, her body moving more quickly than she was accustomed. She laughed despite herself, loving the way her body felt, so strong and quick. Once she steadied herself, Godwin released her and she wilted a bit at the loss of his touch. He pushed his shoes onto his feet, then turned around to look at her.
“Gods,” he muttered, a look of pure endearment on his face, “you are glorious in my collar. I cannot thank you enough for allowing me the privilege to serve you.”
She blushed, her hand going straight to the collar. His collar. Butterflies were swarming inside of her and her sex ached, tightening expectantly.
“You’re the master, I follow your orders,” she clarified airily, her need distracting her.
He smiled at her, beckoning her to come closer. She approached him and he fell to his knees, picking up one of her shoes. He held it out to her and she leaned down to take it from him. “No, hansa, permit me to place your shoes upon your feet. In a relationship such as ours, the subservient one may seem to submit, but they always control the situation. One word from you and the game stops. One word from you changes everything. I may guide the direction, but you will always control the play.”
He placed the shoe on her foot gently, then placed a gentle kiss on the top of it before releasing it. “Godwin, this is embarrassing,” she whined. She still offered him her other foot when he requested it.
He kissed her other foot tenderly after placing her shoe on it, too. “I think you will perhaps be more comfortable with acts such as these as we progress. Shall we go hunting? You smell so good, so ready,” he said, breathing deeply. She blushed hard as she realized he was smelling her arousal.
“Sure,” she muttered, pulling him to stand so that he wasn’t so close to her disobedient loins.
Dreadfully Erotic 