Seneca was starting to feel paranoid, every day that passed she saw more of those satin blue ribbons. They seemed to be everywhere she went. There was one by the little corner grocery she shopped at twice a week. There was one at the coffee shop she went to with Godwin. The one that Godwin had thrown away at their bench was replaced the next day. At first, they had seemed whimsical and fun, but now it felt like they were following her. Ominous.

Today there was a new one outside of the library where Josh worked. Her eyes narrowed, she looked around, but nothing was out of place except the ribbon. She snapped a quick picture with her phone, adding it to her growing collection. She almost untied it and threw it away, but she went inside the building instead, glaring distrustfully at the offensive satin.

Her feet took her back to Josh’s reference desk without thought. He was buried in books, piles of them surrounding him like pillars, no less than four open in front of him. He didn’t look up from as she approached, and she was sure he had even noticed she was there.

She smiled, enjoying her voyeurism of Josh lost to his work. He would read a few pages in one book, then stop to scribble illegible notes onto a notepad without looking, then turn to another book and do the same. She let him continue to work for a few moments, leaning against the high desk on one propped elbow. She smiled wickedly as a playful thought crossed her mind. The urge to mess with him, just a little, was overwhelming, and so she pushed the book on the top of the pile nearest to her with her finger. Slowly, she slid it until it perched perilously on top of the pile, teetering on the edge. Josh still didn’t look up.

She bit the inside of her lip and nudged the book just enough that it fell into the book he was reading. He jumped in surprise. “Hey!” he exclaimed in his muted library voice, instantly annoyed.

She knew she was in a library but she couldn’t help the giggles that escaped her. When he saw it was her he smiled, his face instantly lighting up with happiness.

“Seneca!” he said gleefully. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Josh, I was in the area and thought I’d check to see if you were working tonight,” she replied warmly. Then, remembering why she came, she sobered a little. “And…well, actually. I…this might seem dumb, but have you seen these blue satin ribbons all over town?” she asked him, taking out her cellphone out of the deep pocket of her grey peacoat. She pulled up the camera roll and scrolled through the pictures, showing Josh the ribbons tied on the bench where she and Godwin met, by the grocery store, on the light pole by her apartment, the one at the coffee shop, and the one outside the library.

“Hey, that one’s right outside here,” he said, recognizing the one she had just taken.

“Yeah, I just took that one before I came in. Josh, these are creeping me out. I…I think they are for me. Isn’t that crazy?” she said as she turned the screen of her cell off.

“Wait, can I see the other ones again?” he asked her, pointing to her phone. “Hold on, let me clean this up a little.” He pushed the pad of paper into the book he had been reading when she interrupted him, then found pencils and pens, using them as placeholders in the other books as he closed them and piled them up. He moved the pile closest to her, then shook his head. “You know what? Nevermind. Let’s go sit at one of the study desks.”

“Won’t you get in trouble or something, for leaving your post?” she asked him, following he walked around his desk into another set of stacks, motioning her to follow him.

“Nah, I got all my other work done already. I was just translating for fun at this point. It’s pretty quiet today back here,” he said softly over his shoulder. There was something about being in the stacks that made her want to be quiet, too.

She held her question until they broke out into an open area on the other side of the shelves. “You were translating…for fun?”

He snorted. “Yup. I was translating some old english books, referencing them with actual translations. I’m teaching myself for the most part. It’s wicked fun,” he admitted as he lead her to a row of desks with wooden walls between them. There was one chair at each cubicle, but enough room that they could both squeeze into one, though it would be a tight fit.

“Fun?” she asked him skeptically as he pulled over another chair, motioning her to sit in the one already there.

“Sure,” he said, smiling at her. He had this dimple in one cheek that she liked a lot. She could barely see it today, though, as it was lost beneath his stubble. “You don’t believe me, do you? It’s proper fun.”

“Oh, I believe you, I just don’t believe you,” she clarified. Reaching a hand out, she brushed it over his dimple. “You growing a beard?” she asked him.

He tilted his head into her touch. “Yeah, I was thinking about it. It’s been getting pretty cold lately. Just making myself a homegrown scarf. I hate having cold cheeks.”

She looked at him appraisingly. “Looks itchy,” she declared after a moment. “I guess if you take care of it and keep it nice and trimmed, it would look pretty good on you.”

“I’m glad you approve,” he said, only half joking.

“You know, you could always just wear a scarf,” she teased him.

“What? Beards are much more manly,” he insisted playfully. “Now, let me see these ribbons…”

She unlocked her phone and handed it to him. He looked at the pictures, zooming in on each one.

“Tell me about this one,” he asked, showing her the picture of the one outside of her grocery.

“That one is at the market I shop at. Right outside, by the doors,” she explained.

He scrutinized it, then moved on to another one. “This one?” he asked, showing her the one outside her apartment building.

“It’s really close to my apartment. Really close.”

He pushed his glasses up his nose, then scrolled to another one. He asked her about each ribbon picture, then he looked at them all again. “Where all have you seen the ribbons?”

“Hmm…” she said, biting her lip as she thought. “Let’s see. There’s the one by my apartment, the one at the train station I take to work, and one at the station I take home. There’s one at the station nearby your place, too, now that I think about it. The one at the coffee shop, one at my friend’s coffee shop, the grocery, a park bench by my work and one outside my building. There was also one outside the pizza place we went to last time we met,” she listed off, counting on her fingers.

He frowned, saying nothing. She could almost see him thinking.

“What do you think?” she asked nervously, biting the inside of her cheek.

He sighed. “I think that if it’s bothering you, it probably shouldn’t be disregarded as ‘nothing’ like you are probably thinking. Have you asked Godwin?”

She cringed. “Ah, no…” she said, hunching her shoulders uncomfortably.

“Why not?” he asked, turning towards her. His knees pressed into hers, making her hyper aware of his body.

“Ah…I don’t want him to think I’m being dumb, I guess,” she said shyly. “I mean, it’s probably in my head, you know?”

“But it’s okay if I think you’re dumb?” he teased her.

She blushed, slapping his knee playfully. “No, but you already know I’m dumb.”

Josh sat up. “I don’t think you’re being dumb. I haven’t really seen any of these ribbons around, though. I probably wouldn’t have ever seen the one in the front, I use the side door. I can’t recall the last time I came in through the front. Maybe it’s some new fad or something, like flashmob signs or geocaching.”

She nodded. “Maybe so,” she said, feeling skeptical. He was probably right. “You should probably get back to work. I just wanted your opinion. If you see any ribbons…”

He smiled warmly, resting his hand on her knee familiarly. “I’ll text you, how about that? I’ll take pics of any I find, and I’ll ask some people around here if they know what’s going on with them.”

“Thank you, Josh, I really appreciate it,” she said, squeezing his hand with hers. He slid his hand from her knee and stood up quickly as someone turned the corner.

“The reference books you’ll need are right over here, ma’am,” he said stiffly.

She looked up at him, confused, and stood up, too. A stern looking man, probably in his late fifties, walked by, a grimace on his hook-nosed face. He combed his grey hair over his bald spot, reminding him of Kennedy’s father before he died. She had liked Kennedy’s father, but she instantly disliked this man.

“Joshua,” he said coldly, “when you are finished helping this…patron…I will need you to clean up the mess at your station.”

Josh nodded. “Yes, of course Mr. Greenly. Right away, sir,” he replied quickly.

Mr. Greenly glared at her over his thin, wire framed glasses. “Are you finding everything you need?” he asked her in a tone that implied her only response should be yes.

“Ah, yes,” she said, then leaned over as if she was reading Josh’s name tag. “Josh has been quiet helpful,” she insisted cheerfully.

Mr. Greenly narrowed his eyes at her, obviously not believing her charade. He didn’t call her on it, but he stared skeptically long enough to make her uncomfortable before he turned and stomped back into the stacks.

“Is he always that pleasant?” she whispered after a moment, hoping he wasn’t hiding nearby, eavesdropping.

“Oh, yes,” Josh agreed. “He’s a proper, cheerful ray of sunshine every day of the week.”

“Is your full name Joshua? I thought it was just Josh, I remember something about that…” she said, trying to remember when they dated before.

“Yup, just Josh, like it says on my birth certificate. I corrected him once. Complete waste of time.” He rolled his eyes, then smiled at Seneca. “I should get back to work. When are we meeting up again?”

“Soon, I hope,” she said, feeling disappointed. Godwin usually arranged their next meeting when they parted ways after their play, but he had only told her he would be ‘in contact soon’ after their last session at Josh’s apartment. “Godwin usually sets the date. It hasn’t been that long since we played last, but I still hope to hear from him soon. He doesn’t exactly embrace modern technology,” she explained, waving her phone. Understanding sparked in Josh’s eyes and he nodded. “So…I hope he contacts me soon.”

“Me too,” he agreed, nodding.

“Sorry,” she apologized unnecessarily.

He shook his head and they walked back to his desk. “No worries, just let me know,” he said easily.

She smiled shyly at him. “I will. Take care, Josh.”

He winked at her, a huge smile on his face. “Back ‘atcha, Seneca.”

The sun had set while she was in the library, and she left feeling a little better. She really liked Josh and wondered again what it was that didn’t work out between them before. They were both different people now, so maybe this time would be different.

Her mind wandered as she walked towards the station. She was going to go pick up something for dinner and then she was going to watch that movie Olivia kept telling her to watch. She smiled, feeling light, as she turned the corner, fishing out her cellphone. She called Olivia, wanting to ask her about the ribbons. The phone rang a few times then went straight to voicemail.

“Hello, this is Olivia Turner. I’m not taking your call right now because I don’t feel like it…” Seneca smiled at her silly voicemail. She changed the recording every week, always sassy in some way. She hung up without leaving a message, tucking her phone back in her pocket.

Hands wrapped around her roughly, one around her arms and chest and the other over her face, shoving something into her mouth so she couldn’t scream. It felt like she was moving in slow motion as she pushed them away and went to run, her hands fumbling with the fabric that had been shoved into her mouth. Frigid, icy pavement rushed up to meet her as she fell. Something was wrapped around her legs, some rope or something, and it tightened as she hit the ground.

Seneca scrambled, lost to her fear, trying to get away as another binding wrapped around her torso. Her fingers dug into the wet sidewalk concrete, her nails scraping painfully against the coarse pavement as she attempted to escape her assailant. She couldn’t scream with the fabric in her mouth. She spit, pulling the cloth from her mouth. It rolled out of her mouth in a long, thick strip. She didn’t want to, but she had to look. What she saw on the ground had her heart nearly stopped with fear.

A crumpled piece of blue ribbon. She tried to scream again but her voice wouldn’t come out right, she was too afraid. She gasped, to terrified to look behind her. Instead, she struggled against her bonds as yet another binding was pulled around her body. Strong hands roughly shoved her arms against her torso as large, strong legs braced her body on either side.

The man on top of her, because it was a man, it had to be a man with those hands and muscles, shoved her arms inside of the bindings and pulled them way too tightly.

“This,” a voice spoke harshly into her ear. It was masculine and selfish, and one she instantly recognized. He pulled tight, pushing the air from her lungs. She squeaked, then moaned, terrified and in pain. “This is all your fault, Senny baby.”

Struggling against her bonds just made them dig in even deeper, so she stopped. She panted, afraid, with no idea of how to escape. Chip sat on top of her, sliding one of his hands under her chin, down her neck.

“Did he give you this garbage around your neck?” he snarled, his fingers digging into her neck as he attempted to pry Godwin’s collar from her. She screamed, her voice garbled. His touch on the silver collar made her feel sullied at first, and then her stomach twisted and she felt physically ill. She wretched and he snarled in frustration. “Why can’t I get this trash off of you?” he demanded, digging his fingers even deeper around her throat. Her stomach flipped and she gagged, her body convulsing.  

Chip abandoned his pursuit to remove the collar, and moved his hand up to her chin, jerking her head back painfully. She groaned as he picked up the ribbon she pulled from her mouth. He balled it up and shoved it back inside again. She heard the sound of duct tape and then it was over her mouth, taping the ribbon inside. She could smell him now, sweaty with alcohol souring his breath.

Oh god, he was going to kill her. Lost to her panic, she screamed, but the sound that came out was muffled and pathetic. Her fangs dropped with her rising terror, but they were of no use with her mouth taped up. Chip shoved her head and she slammed her forehead into the concrete. Tears were streaming down her eyes and she couldn’t breathe and he was going to kill her in the street, where were all the people? Oh god, why weren’t there any people around?

Her head spun and she thought she could feel something wet streaming down her face, but maybe it was just tears.

“Shut up!” Chip whispered harshly into her ear. “Shut up! This is all your fault. We were gonna get married, Senny baby. You were supposed to be the mother to my children. And then…” he trailed off. He stood up, then grabbed her roughly by her bindings. “And then you leave me. You won’t return my calls. You avoid me! You hurt me, so much. But…we’re in love, Senny. I’ll fix this, make it all better. I love you,” he growled.

A small, detached voice inside her brain noticed that he didn’t sound like he loved her very much.

“I know you’re cheating on me, Senny baby,” he accused, throwing her over his shoulder into a fireman’s carry. She tried to struggle but he had her tied up well, the bindings making it impossible for her to wiggle much at all. “I saw it. I saw you with that asshole from the library. I saw how he looks at you. How he touches you,” Chip said, getting more and more angry.

She struggled, even though she knew it was futile, which it was. “You keep wiggling around up there and I’m likely to drop you,” he threatened. “How could you, Senny baby?” he bemoaned, sounding worried and not like he had just threatened her with bodily harm. “I thought you were a good girl. No, I know you are a good girl. You aren’t a whore, I know you aren’t. Not my Senny baby. She’s no whore. We can still make this work, I just had to get you away from the bad influences. I’ll take you home with me, keep you there. You’ll see, Senny, once you’re back with me, that it’s where you belong.”

She struggled again and he let go of her, barely catching her before she rolled down his back. “Keep struggling and I’ll drop you for real, Senny. I’m going to take you home, keep you there until you come to your senses. Chip misses his Senny baby,” he cooed, alternating from angry to his sappy, lovey-dovey tone.

Her head hurt, the world spun and she was cold, dizzy and scared. It hit her, then, he threatened to lock her up in his house, somehow that statement piercing the fog in her brain.

No, no, no, no, she couldn’t…she couldn’t be locked up again. She would die. He was going to lock her in his house and never let her out. Memories of her childhood home burning, so fast, so hot, the screams of her mother as she burned alive in the trailer, screaming, the screaming, the smoke, the heat, oh, god, she couldn’t, he couldn’t, oh god.

She struggled again. She had to get away. She couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything, why was she so useless? She struggled until the bindings cut into her skin, until she smelled her own blood in the air, until she couldn’t feel her feet. Her arms filled with pins and needles, the painful ones, not the numb ones. Wounded animal sounds escaped from her and she was as powerless to stop them as she was to escape.

Chip released his hold on her and she rolled down his back, slamming into the cold, wet ground, breaking. The immediate pain in her right arm was an intense, focusing kind of pain like nothing she had experienced in ages. It opened in her brain like a flower blooming in time lapse, radiating out from one single point. This pain, nothing came close to it, not since the fire. Not since her mother…   

“This is all your fault!” he screamed in her face, his breath volatile. She couldn’t see him right, not with all the tears. The alcohol on his breath was rancid, and burned her eyes. He picked her up, forcing her to look him in the eyes. They wouldn’t focus, everything was blurry, but she didn’t want to see the look on his face anyway. “Your fault. I’m doing this for your sake, Senny baby, and one day you’ll appreciate it. I know you still love me.” He shook her with each word, emphasizing his anger with his strength.

Pain had her head spinning. She couldn’t think right, everything was wrong. He picked her up again and she gasped, gagging on the ribbon in her mouth as it tickled her throat. The bindings hurt badly, everything hurt bad, but nothing compared to the screaming in her arm.  

“I’m a good guy, Senny baby,” Chip said as he repositioned her in the fireman’s carry across his shoulders. She was sobbing freely now, unable to breath, unable to see, terrified and resigned to her fate. The agony in her arm was making her vision swim with tiny white stars. “Girls like you like good guys. I know what you need, even if you don’t. You’ll see that, I promise.”

“You know nothing about her,” Godwin said severely from somewhere, anywhere. She didn’t care where. Godwin was here! He was going to save her from Chip. She twisted, digging the satin ribbon deeper into her skin. How was it so strong and sharp? She couldn’t see anything, her eyes so blurry from tears and pain. She couldn’t focus, couldn’t find him, couldn’t see him.

What if she was hallucinating? Panic and fear had her hyperventilating, choking on the ribbon in her mouth. Her world narrowed down to the white stars that melted into soggy black dots, swarming her vision.

She wasn’t sure what happened next. There were sounds, but she didn’t understand them. Hands pulled her, and her whole world twisted violently as if she were falling. She braced for the impact but it never came. Instead, she was cradled against something solid and warm.

Had she imagined Godwin there? Was she dying? She tried to breathe in, forgetting about the ribbon. It choked her as she accidentally sucked it halfway down her throat. Bile rose up as she retched on the ribbon. It filled her mouth and burned her sinuses. She struggled to swallow it down, which only forced her to swallow the ribbon deeper, making her gag more.

The world tilted again and she felt the hard, cold pavement under her body now. An instant later, the tape was ripped off her mouth. Any other time it would have been painful, but now it was relieving. Warm fingers dipped into her mouth and pulled out the ribbon and she threw it up violently, along with more painful, burning bile.

“Oh, Seneca, what did he do to you?” Godwin murmured sadly. That small voice, the disjointed one in her head, wondered why he was so sad. He shouldn’t be sad.

Some type of fabric or leather was wrapped around her, closing her inside of it. Instead of feeling trapped and suffocated as it enclosed her, she felt protected. Hot hands, too hot, moved to her arms, and then the bindings were cut and she could breathe again. She couldn’t feel the bindings on her legs as they were cut, she couldn’t feel her legs at all anymore. They were completely numb, and somewhere she knew that was bad, but she couldn’t remember why.

As the bindings fell away, the pain in her arm became a beacon of her consciousness, the pain escalating as blood was finally free to move to the break. She tried to clutch it to her body, as if pressing it against her chest would help reduce the pain, but it flopped unresponsive to her side.

Warm hands were picking her up again, pulling her close. The leathery wrappings around her pulled in closer, pressing softly against her skin. Godwin whispered into her ear, saying things that she didn’t understand. Was he speaking English? She didn’t think so. His hands were so warm, too warm, were they always this warm? She didn’t care. They were his hands, and they felt wonderful. He carried her easily and she sobbed, pressing her head into his chest.

He was bare chested. She could feel his skin under her face and was surrounded by his vanilla-desert scent. She pressed her body as close as she could to his. She wanted to ask him if he was cold, why wasn’t he wearing a shirt when it was so cold outside, but her head wasn’t working right.

Her throat burned and her voice wouldn’t come out when she tried to thank him. Tears continued to leak from her, and they mixed with her blood. She was definitely bleeding from her head, she realized. Godwin’s chest was sticky with it.

“Shh, hansa, please, I will keep you safe,” he cooed into her ear, holding her close. He was moving now and his gait was comforting. He braced her broken arm carefully, carrying her bridal style. Her legs tingled painfully now, but they still weren’t fully under her control yet.  

She wanted to see him, wanted to open her eyes, but they were so sticky with tears and blood she couldn’t get them open. Her broken arm flopped painfully as she tried to move it, causing her to cry out.

“No, no, do not move. Your arm is quite fractured. I will care for you. Do not…please, do not look at me. Keep your eyes shut tightly. Promise me, promise me now, please, do not open your eyes until I permit it. Can you do that?” he asked her.

He picked up his pace, each step now jarring her broken arm. She was dizzy and nauseous, each sway of his step swirling her stomach dangerously. She couldn’t throw up on him, or on whatever he had wrapped around her. It would be horrible of her. Instead, she held her breath, trying to calm the nausea.

“Breathe, Seneca. Please, promise me you will not open your beautiful eyes until I say, please,” he begged her, pain in his voice. His voice was different, though she couldn’t tell how, exactly. It seemed deeper or more throaty, and maybe a little lispy, it was difficult to pinpoint.

She couldn’t make her throat work, so she nodded her head, pressing it further into his chest. He gripped her tightly as his breathing became labored.

“Canesp gane, hansa,” he whispered, kissing her hair. “Didik siante flangt on vantentas.”

“I…” she mumbled, trying to make her mouth work right. Her voice sounded so raw. It felt even worse than it sounded. “Don’t under…stand…”

“Sorry,” he apologized. “This will be chilly for a moment. Hold on with your good arm, and do not look. You are safe with me, always, Seneca,” he told her compassionately.

“I know,” she whispered, trying to make it hurt less to talk and failing.

A warm cord snaked around her waist, pulling her close to him. She squeaked in surprise, her heart thudding at the thought that she was being bound again. Godwin kissed her temple, then jumped into motion. The warm leathery material around her disappeared, replaced with his strong arms and cold, breezy air. She shivered at the loss of it and he pulled her even closer. Wind rushed around her, and there was this sound that she couldn’t quiet explain, like a rhythmic whom-whom-whom timed with the wind surging around her. She knew her head was still messed up because it felt like she was going up, and going up quickly. Cold wind brought brought tears to her eyes. Her head spun and she was going to puke again. It took all of her focus on the pain in her arm to keep her from throwing up on Godwin.

The wind whooshed around her, swirled strongly, then stopped. Godwin’s hold on her relaxed, but she couldn’t let go yet. She kept her eyes shut tightly, just like she promised.

Where ever they were, it smelled like Godwin. It smelled warm and safe. She relaxed a little, only a shred, but he felt it, he must have, because he wrapped that leathery material over her again, using it to pull her close. His smell surrounded her, filling her head. She was reminded that her fangs were out, and Godwin, oh god, he smelled good. He smelled like something that would take away her pain.

No, she chided herself harshly. He had just saved her life. She would not let her hunger control her. She would not bleed him because he was nearby. She could hold back her hunger, she would do it, no matter what.

“Seneca,” he whispered to her, shifting her. She fought his arms, fought him, couldn’t let him release her. “You are safe now, let me set you down. I will not leave you, I promise.”

“Noooo….” she moaned, gripping him tighter. She could hear his frantic heartbeat, could feel it against her face. She wanted his blood, she could bite this flesh, the skin above his heart. Just a little of his blood would make the pain less, she knew it…

“Yes, please, Seneca. I would run a bath for you. Permit me to be clean you and assess your injuries,” he insisted, pushing her away from his chest.

She tried to fight it but her one arm hung painfully useless. He pushed her easily from his chest, the cord around her waist somehow moving her away from his body. His blood was getting farther away and she needed it, it would help, it would take the pain, she knew it. She snapped at the arms pushing her away but he was quicker and easily dodged her fangs.

“It cannot be my blood, it cannot. You know what my blood does to you. I cannot give you what you will need if you consume my essence,” he said sadly.

“No, no, no,” she moaned. “Need you, hurts. I hurt,” she whined, pushing away at the thicker warm cord wrapped around her waist, holding her back. She kept her eyes shut, like she promised, tracking him by scent and heat. This cord, she couldn’t allow herself to be bound, she wouldn’t be tied down. She pried her fingers around it, pushing it down her waist blindly.

He sighed and the cord around her waist tightened. “No, please, do not ask this of me, I will do whatever I can to make you comfortable. I cannot cool the fire my blood will ignite, not with your injuries as they are,” he said softly.

“Untie me, untie me, untie me. I can’t, please don’t tie me, please, Godwin, please,” she cried out, her fear reigniting. Panic balled up in her stomach. “I can’t go back, I won’t be locked up. I’ll burn. I’ll burn to death. I don’t want to burn to death. Please, Godwin,” she sobbed, tears running down her face. “I’ll be good. Firefly, Godwin, please, firefly.”

His arms were around her again, pulling her into his chest. “Oh, Seneca, I am so very sorry. You are safe, you are safe here,” he whispered into her hair. She could hear the pain in his voice. The cord fell away from her waist and she sighed and hiccuped and cried in relief. “Drink from me, curb your pain. I will do what I can to calm you afterwards.” He shifted, tilting his head back, but she bit him in the chest, right over his heart.

It was hard to bite something so flat, and she ended up only scraping him with her fangs, but it was enough. He shivered, holding her body tightly. His blood was seeping slowly, and she licked it greedily. She lost herself a little as she repeated this a few times, scraping his chest and lapping up his thick, rich blood until the cut healed.

She did not allow herself to drink much, just a few mouthfuls. It was enough to cut the pain, to clear some of the dizziness from her head. She still felt quite woozy, and wondered if her stomach would expel his blood. When her last bite healed, she licked his chest once more, his chest smooth under her lips.

He continued to hold her tightly as she let his blood move through her body. The first thing to feel better was her throat. “I’m sorry, Godwin,” she apologized, instantly guilty. “I’m sorry.” Tears came again. How had she not run of of tears yet?

“Nothing to be sorry for, Seneca,” he told her. “May I run you a bath? I want to clean you up, then I would like to check your fractured arm. I believe both the lower bones are broken.”

Her body moved without consent, gripping him tightly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she cried, clutching at him. He held her until she stopped, stroking her hair.

After her tears dried up again he shifted, still holding her but not as closely. The leathery material fell away from her and she shivered in the chilly air that now surrounded her. “Godwin?” she asked him through hitches left over from her sobbing.

“Yes, Seneca?” he replied, allowing her to clutch at him. He shifted and picked her up, carrying her somewhere.

“May I open my eyes now?” she asked, the movements making her feel dizzy without her vision.

He stiffened. “I…would prefer you do not. I do not want you to see me as I am now…” he hedged.

“Why not?” she asked.

“My emotions…I am currently in my original form, my Daeva form. I am ugly, scarred and deformed,” he attacked himself. “I would not have you see this.”

Her heart hurt with the pain in his voice. “No, I want to see you, Godwin. You could never be ugly to me,” she insisted. “Please, I want to open my eyes. Let me see you.”

He shifted one hand and opened a door. The colors behind her eyes changed from black to pink as the light came on. Godwin shifted, sat down, moving her on his lap. He leaned over and then water was running. It smelled clean and warm. “No, hansa, I am ugly, my body devalued by scars. And, my Daeva form, perhaps it would scare you.”

“Godwin, please, I need to see you. I need…” she struggled to say what she needed. She trailed her good hand over his chest. “Your skin is so warm,” she said, running her fingers across the expanse until she found his shoulder. Keeping her eyes shut, she turned her face to his. “Godwin, I want to see you. Please, show me?” she implored.

He sighed and she could tell he was going to give in. “Seneca, you do not know what you ask of me…” he almost whined. Godwin didn’t whine, but he came the closest she had ever hear him now. She knew then how exposed he felt, how afraid of her rejection he was. “My emotions…I cannot change back to my other form, not yet, not until I feed again.”

“I don’t want to see your ‘regular’ form,” she insisted. “I want to see you.”

He ran his fingers over her collar and she was instantly hyper aware of his emotions. His apprehension and fear were on the surface, but underneath was something else. Hope.

“Open your eyes if you wish, Seneca,” he relented, his voice barely a whisper. “Thank you for respecting my selfish request for so long.”

She had to scrub the blood and tears and eye gunk from her eyes with her good hand before she could open them, and even when she did open them, everything was blurry and too bright. She looked down to the tan tiles of floor, squinting and willing her eyes to adjust to the light.

“My eyes hurt,” she explained, watching the tub fill. Steam filled the room and she longed to soak in the tub. “Can I get undressed while they adjust?”

“Do what you must to be comfortable,” he said, moving her so that she was standing. “Do you need help with your arm?”

She could feel the tissue trying to knot back together, but it felt like something was wrong. “Do you…oh, god, how am I going to get my shirt off? I can’t lift my arm, and it’s not healing right, it feels wrong,” she panicked.

“Shh, we can cut it off if we cannot remove it normally. If only this garment had buttons,” he said as he moved behind her. She looked into the large, white porcelain tub, which was half full of water now. It was possibly the biggest, deepest tub she had ever seen. The bathroom was spacious with pale beige walls, tan tiles and the huge white tub. There was a shelf above the tub filled with soaps and salts.

His hands moved down her back and she sighed. “I can’t lift my arm,” she told him.

“Ah, well, then it must be cut. One moment,” he told her, moving away.

“No! Don’t leave me!” she nearly screamed, turning quickly. His back was to her, rummaging through a medicine cabinet over the sink.

It took all she had not to gasp at what she was when she looked back at him. He had wings! Large, dark leathery wings were folded against his back, covering his butt, the farthest tip of them stopping just above his knees. They looked like bat wings, with a large bony ridge along the top and and smaller ridges running down through the skin of the wing. The peaks of the wings had a single claw-like hook on each.

He must have sensed a change in her emotions because he whipped around quickly, a worried look on his face. As he saw her looking at him the worry was replaced by regret, and fear. He was afraid of her reaction.

She looked at him, really looked at him, trying her best to keep her face as neutral as the pain in her arm would let her. His face was more angular, similar, but a little more sharp than he had looked that night when he made her meet Josh alone. Those eyes, his silver eyes, now they looked more like steel, strong and cold, metal filling the sockets completely. His face was still his own, but his teeth were predator teeth, sharp and pointed, with extended canines like a vampire, though his were more prominent than hers. He had two small black horns that sprouted at the top of his forehead and curled into his hairline.

Her eyes moved down his body, and she blushed profusely as she realized he was completely naked. His impressive manhood hung between his legs. She had never found penises attractive before, but she more than appreciated his. Fleeting desires to know it more intimately, to see it excited and ready for her, to feel it fill her skirted across her mind, but she pushed them down.

Godwin looked down at himself as she scrutinized his body, perhaps afraid to see her reactions. She had never seen him this insecure. It both made her heart hurt and filled her with possessive pride that she was the only one he had shown. She was special to him, and she treasured that feeling.

She tried to look at his scars, and there were several of them that marred the length of his body from his left shoulder down to his thigh, but her eyes kept going back to his horns, his teeth, and his relaxed member. The scars were pale, long healed ghosts of wounds. They didn’t make him ugly. They made his perfectly toned body that much more desirable. She wondered how they would feel under her fingers, the ridged rise of each gash, the depression of each dimple, as she traced his body.

He wouldn’t look at her, though he allowed her to look at him. After a moment he turned back to the medicine cabinet, retrieving scissors.

“You have a tail!” she exclaimed happily as he moved back to her. He passed her, leaning over to turn the water off.

“I do…” he said carefully, reaching over to grab a jar of salt from the ledge above the bath. “Do you enjoy the scent of eucalyptus?” he asked her, unscrewing the lid and passing it close to her so that she could smell it.

“Yes,” she replied quickly, waving it aside. “You have a tail and wings! I thought you were making fun of me. You have horns, too!” she said in delight. He had wings and a tail! At the second mention of his tail it moved from the floor behind his feet and up his body, wrapping around his waist as if he were trying to hide it. She thought he was blushing, which would be a first for him. She hadn’t even known he could blush.

“I was teasing you, yes,” he told her as he added a handful of salts to the bath. He wouldn’t look at her. The smell of eucalyptus floated up in the steam and she took a deep breath. The soothing yet medicinal smell was enticing and she longed to soak in the now pale green waters.

She moved to take her coat off but her arm was still broken. She kept forgetting that until she went to move it, and then she was reminded quite strongly. She growled with frustration.

“Let me assist, hansa,” he said gruffly. He gently unbuttoned the last two remaining buttons of her favorite coat, then slid the ruined garment down her arms carefully. As her coat slid to the ground he was already moving behind her again. She felt the cool metal of the scissors pressed against her back as he began clipping her blouse off. She pouted for a second as she thought about the destruction, looking down at her shirt. It was a lost cause, even before he began snipping, she decided with a frown. It was soggy, soaked with blood, tears and wet concrete, and covered in gashes from her several collisions with the pavement. There was also some type of black ichor that she couldn’t identify, and honestly didn’t want to.

The shirt slid open and he carefully slid it down her arms, going slowly around her break. She looked at her arm and it made her stomach turn. It looked like a noodle from her elbow down, disconnected and floppy.

She gasped as Godwin began unhooking her bra. “Don’t look!” she exclaimed shyly.

He snorted. “No, that will not do, little hansa. You are unable to do this for yourself with your arm incapacitated as it is. Please, let me assist. Also, I should remind you, you are seeing me in my most unsightly form,” he chided as he slipped her bra from her shoulders. It fell to the floor to join her destroyed shirt. His fingers were nimble as he unzipped her skirt and slid it down her legs along with her tights and panties.

She had no idea where her shoes had gone, but they were not on her feet.

Godwin’s hands slid down her back, pressing firmly the whole way until they came to rest upon the swell of her butt. She felt herself blush, she couldn’t help it. Godwin chuckled despite his strange mood. “Shall I help you get in?” he asked her, his hands running up her back and landing on her shoulders.

She shook her head. She would get in herself. She wasn’t completely helpless. He lifted his hands away and she slowly and carefully stepped into the tub.

The water was was just the right temperature and she lowered herself carefully, sinking into the hot, salt softened water. She closed her eyes, sighing in ecstasy as the water soaked into her cuts and scrapes, stinging yet soothing.

Neither of them spoke in the tranquil silence. She sunk deeper. The tub was deep enough that the water rose up to her neck and long enough for her to stretch out completely. The incubus sat on the edge of the tub, his wings somehow compressed tightly against his back. She pouted that she couldn’t see his tail.

“I don’t think you’re unsightly,” she whispered, trying not to destroy the calm in the room.

He snuffed. “You are making efforts to conserve my regard,” he bit out, turning away from her.

“I think you are beautiful,” she said, shifting so that her broken arm floated only semi-painfully in the soothing water. “I don’t care to, ah, conserve your regard or whatever. You are incredibly attractive. This is probably the most attracted I’ve ever felt to anyone,” she insisted softly. He turned to her and she was the disbelief in his eyes. “I’m not lying! I swear. You are magnificent. Really, ah…” she trailed off, words failing her.

He frowned, looking down at himself. “You enjoy perfectly formed abdominals. Mine are scarred, mangled,” he interjected pessimistically.

She reached her good hand out of the water. Godwin cringed as she ran her fingers over his abs and across the deep teeth mark scars that left large penny-sized dimples in his skin. The skin was smooth around the wounds and softer, yet firmer where the divots indented his torso.

“These are sexy, Godwin. These…I want to run my tongue over them, feel the difference as I…” she trailed off, realizing what she had just said. “I’m sorry!” she exclaimed, pulling her hand back into the water and looking away from him, blushing hard.

She felt his eyes on her and she turned back to look at him, instantly falling into his steel eyes. “You…you speak the truth? You…how can you find this marred visage attractive, little hansa?” he asked her, leaning forward, his wings spreading slightly.

“May I touch your wings?” she asked, reaching hesitantly towards them.

He pulled back, his wings snapping tight against his back. He blushed again. “I have never felt this way, Seneca. Not since my youth has anyone been able to throw me off balance as you do,” he commented. She watched him, trying not to pressure him but longing to touch his wings. Would they feel warm like the rest of him?

He sighed heavily, then relented to her, leaning in. Wings unfurled with a familiar-sounding whom, and she knew what they would feel like before she touched them. He had wrapped them around her, that leathery material, when he saved her. Still, as he stretched one wing out to her, she ran her finger over the warm, buttery soft skin and he trembled.

“Hansa…” he muttered, closing his eyes as she stroked his wing. The more she stroked it, the more he stretched it out towards her. She smiled coyly, appreciating that her touch was so comforting to him.

“Can I see your tail?” she asked him. He flinched, not exactly pulling his wing away but folding it a little against his back.

“Ah…” he trailed off, blushing again. “You are not Daeva, so you would not know, but to touch the tail of a SynLilin is very personal. Incredibly intimate,” he replied, embarrassed.

“What do you mean?” she asked him, stroking the smooth, soft flesh of his inner wing. He relaxed slightly as she continued to stroke him.

“In your realm, sexual intercourse is an incredibly intimate action between two people,” he said, reaching behind him. He pulled his tail from the floor, holding the end of it in his hands for her to see. “A SynLilin’s tail is our most sensitive organ, even more so than my cock,” he explained.

She looked at it closely but made no move to touch it. The tail appeared to be about an inch in diameter and covered in the same soft, buttery flesh that made up his wings. It twitched as she examined it. She noticed it flattened out a little at the end, then flared on either side into shiny, hard looking black flaps, which resembled an upside down heart.

“So, if I touch it, it would be like rape?” she asked nervously. She longed to touch it. Some weird part of her wanted to put it in her mouth. God, she was so messed up.

“No, only like rape if I did not desire your touch,” he clarified, pushing his hand forward, offering his tail to her.

She reached out hesitantly. “Are you sure?” she asked softly. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t-”

“I want you to, hansa,” he cut her off quickly. “I…you may touch me…”

She reached out and gently trailed her finger down the length of it. He shuddered, his eyes slipping half closed. His tail felt sort of like an erect penis, hot and hard, yet silky smooth. The black inverted-heart tip was hard, and felt like polished bone. The end was pointed and felt like it would be able to pierce something if he whipped his tail. Would his horns feel the same?

She stroked his tail as if she were touching delicate crystal, wrapping her hand ever so lightly around it and running down it to the tip. He moaned, his hands gripping the tub tightly. “Stop, hansa,” he begged her.

She didn’t want to stop. He was enjoying her touch, she could see it, and she wanted to keep pleasing him. She leaned over, catching his tail before he could pull it away, and brought it to her lips. She kissed the black tip and it was like sun-warmed river stone under her lips. “Hansa…” he begged, his grip now straining on the sides of the tub. “Oh, gods…”

She pulled his tail closer to her, licking the black tip. He shuddered with his whole body. “I like your tail,” she said. “I don’t know why, but I want to put it in my mouth. That’s weird, isn’t it?”

He moaned, his eyes slipping shut. She really, really liked having this kind of effect on him. She licked it again, the put the pointed tip end between her lips, kissing it. Her eyes slipped shut as it slid into her mouth. Reflexively, she sucked and bit down. Her actions were rewarded with another aroused groan from him and she smiled around his tail between her lips.

“Hansa, Seneca, please!” he struggled to say. “Relent!”

She sat up, letting go of his tail. He pulled it back, wrapping it around his torso protectively. He wouldn’t look at her, had turned away from her. “I’m sorry, was that…I’m so sorry, Godwin. I thought I was, I thought you were enjoying it. I’m so sorry, please-”

He shushed her. “I…” he started. He swallowed hard, then continued. “I thoroughly enjoyed it. I don’t deserve it,” he said, sounding so dejected.

“Why wouldn’t you deserve it? You always take care of me, make me feel so good, why can’t I return the favor?” she asked him, leaning forward, water sluicing from her body. “You saved me.”

“Because incubus…no one can love me. I am…no one can love an incubus, and no one could ever love a ruined one,” he muttered.

“Godwin,” she began. “I love-”

“Do not, Seneca. Do not say those words to me. Do not give me hope for something that cannot exist,” he growled. He was angry, but she wondered if he was angry with her or with himself.

She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. “I do, Godwin. One day, I’ll make you believe it. I won’t say it now, I don’t want to upset you. But one day, I will convince you of my feelings. You know, for an incubus, you are really bad at knowing my emotions,” she said with resignation. “I really like your tail, and your wings.”

He sighed. “Would you like to soak longer? I would like to set your arm so that you may begin to heal. Would you like me to find Josh for you? To feed? I need to go out…I don’t want to leave you alone, though. I need to feed, or I can’t return to my regular form,” he said, thinking aloud.

“Will you come in with me?” she asked him playfully. This tub was the kind where they would both fit and still have some relative comfort.

He frowned, standing up, facing away from her. She knew then she had teased him too much, pushed him too far.

“I…” he began. She waited for him to continue but he did not.

“Godwin,” she said sadly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“You have no reason to apologize,” he said sharply, turning back to her. His erection was at eye level, and it was perfection. She longed to touch it but she held herself back. “This is all my doing. I just…I felt your terror. I rushed to you, I was not even close, because your terror demanded it. I…still, I am unable to calm down. Chester Gibson had you…He touched your collar. He tried to remove your collar! How dare he touch it…my blood boils with rage, Seneca! I cannot calm it. I desire to hurt him. I need to feed so that I may change back.”

He clenched his hands together, his chest muscles bunching tightly with his anger. She was afraid, but not for herself. “What did you do, Godwin? What happened when you found me? Everything is all confused in my head,” she asked.

“No, I need to calm before I relive it, hansa. I cannot…may I use your device to contact our Josh Crocker? I want him to feed you when I set your bones. I can see they will not heal until we correct the alignment. Do you need assistance to wash?” he asked her, pawing through her skirt to retrieve her phone.

“You can just send a text to Josh, but do you want him to come here?” she asked him, slightly jealous that he was going to bring Josh to his apartment. She felt special that she was the only one he brought here.

He hissed as if he hadn’t thought about that. “No, I do not wish for him to come here. Roseau woulii,” he swore. She didn’t know what he said, but she knew it was profane from his tone. “What would you have me do?”

She sunk back down, thinking. “Can I feed you?”

He shook his head no. “I think not. If you fed me, it would take away from your ability to heal yourself. That is not a good idea.”

“But you don’t want Josh to come here,” she said, silently agreeing with that choice. “And I think you don’t want him to see you like this. So, what other choices do we have? I could feed you, then you could take me to Josh’s place and I could feed. Would that work?”

He tilted his head, considering it. After a moment of thought he said “I suppose it might, but I have to be careful when I take from you, not to push you into bloodlust.”

“Okay, then I’m ready to get out. Could you help me? I can’t wait to fix my arm. How do people live with broken bones for weeks?” she bemoaned.

She blushed hard as he watched her stand, gazing at her body as the water flowed downwards. “Don’t look!” she exclaimed, staring down at the water. A warm, fuzzy towel was wrapped around her and she looked up.

Godwin smiled at her as he bundled her into the soft towel. “Come now, hansa,” he said, helping her step out of the deep tub. She tried her hardest not to look at his manhood, now hanging half erect. It was strange to her how much she wanted it, wanted him.

“I don’t have any clothes here,” she remembered suddenly. “What are we going to do?” Godwin grabbed another towel and then her hand, pulling her out of the bathroom without a word. “Where are we going?”

“To my room,” he replied without looking back at her. Was the back of his neck red? She couldn’t tell. He opened a door and pulled her into the darkness within. The room smelled strongly of him, instantly comforting. It sent a bolt of lust through her, and if her arm wasn’t still aching like mad she might have jumped him right there.

“I’m allowed to feel like this, right? Because you’re incubus?” she asked him in a hoarse whisper. She couldn’t see anything but his room…it made her so incredibly happy she could burst. He shared his personal space with her and it felt incredibly intimate. She didn’t want to share this space, this feeling with anyone but him.

“How do you feel, hansa?” he asked her neutrally. She felt him throw a towel over her head, and then he began to rub, massaging her scalp while he dried her hair.

“Nevermind…” she replied, embarrassed she had even brought it up. She was so tired of hating herself.

“Another time, perhaps,” he replied in the dark. He dried her neck, shoulders, down her back to her butt. He lingered there for a moment, then continued down her legs, slowly drying each one. Her arm ached distractingly and she cursed Chip in her mind for ruining this moment for her. She wanted him so badly, every caress of his skin against hers was torment, and every movement of her body ground her poorly healing bones together, bringing her back to the reality of the moment.

Although, she wouldn’t even be here, knowing this intimacy with Godwin, if Chip hadn’t tried to kidnap her. The thought had her spiraling back to the events earlier this evening, had her heart racing. Chip tried to kidnap her. Tried to lock her up. What if Godwin hadn’t come?

Godwin sensed the change in her emotions and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her body back against his. A small, detached part of her brain was disappointed that his erection was gone.

“Do not recall the bad of tonight,” he said into her ear. “Let me fix your bones. I do not want to take you to Josh Crocker. I…please, stay here, do not leave. I am so afraid to lose you, so afraid he will do something which cannot be undone while I am indisposed. You may feed from me, and I will feed elsewhere.”

“Godwin,” she whispered into the dark, unsure of why she was whispering other than it was dark. “I don’t want you to leave…”

He moved her and pushed her down so that she was sitting on a bed. He stood before her, one hand on her shoulder. “We cannot feed only from one another, hansa, not while you are injured. Prepare yourself,” he warned her. Her night vision had begun to clear and she could see the outline of his body now. She could see his quicksilver eyes, they reflected light like cat eyes. His hands found her arm and she whimpered under his touch. “My deepest apologies, Seneca. This will hurt. Are you ready?”

“Don’t tell me, just do it,” she ground out, already clenching her teeth and bracing herself against his bed with her other other.

He didn’t tell her. Stars filled her vision as he grabbed her hand with one of his own and then her arm just below the elbow. He pulled them apart and bile rose up in her throat for a second time that evening. She whimpered and moaned, but she didn’t scream or cry out, and she was proud about that.

He twisted her arm slowly, then ran his fingers up and down her arm, pushing her bones together. The pain was intense and excruciating.

“Good job, hansa, good job. Almost there, stay still, you are doing so well, so strong,” he praised as he held her arm upright. He said more words in his soothing baritone, words that she didn’t understand but still comforted her. He wrapped another towel around her arm, making an impromptu cast from it. She heard the sounds of tape, maybe duct tape, and then felt him bind her arm tightly.

Her lust came on so strongly she didn’t have time to catch it. One minute she was breathing through the pain and the next minute she had Godwin pressed against a wall, his thick blood filling her mouth. She had no recollection of the events between those two, though her arm, the broken one, throbbed now instead of screamed. She felt full, and knew she had been drinking for longer than a few draughts. She could feel her fingers again in the broken arm hand, and though they tingled painfully, she was able to move them.

Godwin’s ample manhood pressed enticingly against her belly, reinvigorated by her lust. His fingers were sunk deep into her butt cheeks. He moaned as she pulled away, licking the punctures she had made shut.

She felt too warm, but in a good way, and she knew he would fit inside of her in just the right way. Shifting, she moved her good hand down his body, out of his hair, and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. It’s girth was impressive and she squeezed tightly.

“Hansa,” he ground out. “We cannot…” She noticed that his hands did not leave her ass.

She growled, her core demanding and tight yet empty, so empty. “Why not,” she purred, pressing her body into his, grinding her belly against his eager erection.

“This is your lust, not your desire,” he said remorsefully.

“Godwin SynLilin,” she growled. “I told you before. I love you,” she punctuated her statement by releasing his manhood and stabbing him in the chest with her finger. “I want you. Man, incubus, you’re all I want. You are the first thing I’ve ever wanted for myself.”

He released his hold on her butt and crawled his hands up her back until his fingers rested on his collar. “You…oh, hansa,” he exclaimed softly, awe in his voice. His lips closed over hers and he kissed her as he ran his fingers along the rim of his collar. She shivered, but she wasn’t cold, not with his intense heat next to her.

“Bed,” she muttered between kisses. He pushed her and she allowed him to lead them back to the bed.

He broke off the kiss and she whined. “I will sit, hansa, and you may control everything. I am at your disposal,” he said. She felt him move, and then his hands were pulling her down on top of him. He was careful of her arm as he sat her on his lap, his manhood positioned between them.

“Can I?” she asked hesitantly. She had felt so confident a moment ago, but now she was afraid again.

“You may do as you wish,” he said, leaning in to kiss her again. He licked her lips, and there was the sound of his wings as they spread open when she kissed him back.

She was incredibly wet already, incredibly turned on, and tired of waiting. She shifted her hips, careful not to support her body with her bad arm, and then went up on her knees. He sucked in a breath as she lined herself up, ready to impale herself on his hard manhood.

“Cock, hansa, you are preparing to ride my cock,” he said huskily. “Say it,” he insisted in the dark.

“Godwin, I’m going to take you now,” she said, unable to make herself say the word. Before she could allow herself to get too embarrassed she lowered her hips, rubbing her lips over the head of his erection. He was larger than she was accustomed to, so it was going to take her a few minutes to get used to his size.

Still up on her knees, she rocked her body over his member, dragging it through her wet folds. “You are so wet,” he cooed into her ear. “Are you so eager for me?”

She didn’t want to wait anymore. Even though it hurt, she seated herself on him. He groaned, his hands tensing erotically in her hair and on her back.

“Seneca!” he grunted as she slid down him. She moaned as she took him deeper and deeper. He filled her more fully than she had ever been filled, more intimately, too. His hands moved to her hips and he dug his fingers into the tender swells of her butt. “You are perfection,” he purred. His hands made no moves to control her.

She had never felt this good, had never wanted a man inside of her. Godwin filled her perfectly, fit her like home. His…cock…oh, it felt so naughty to think the word that she clenched down. Godwin moaned below her.

“Seneca, I want to make you feel good,” he told her. “Does my cock make you feel good?”

Moaning erotically, she nodded her head against his shoulder. Something warm slid up her back and curled around her neck. Godwin’s tail. She leaned her head against it and shifted her hips, somehow slipping him even deeper. The movement unthrottled her desire and she gave herself over to it, shifting her hips rhythmically.

His hands encouraged her as she slid up and down him, brought him in and out of her again and again, her core burning from the size of him. Her orgasm built up and she raced towards it, the pace of her hips increasing on each thrust. Godwin’s mouth closed over hers again and he kissed her, their teeth clicking off each other. She didn’t care, she continued to kiss him needily.

She was so close now. His tail pushed against her back and her buttcheeks, filling the space between erotically. The black inverted heart tip tickled her neck, tracing over her skin from the hollow of her neck up to her earlobe. Her fangs dropped, despite the fact that she was full, and she buried them into his neck as she rode him.

His blood and the desire it contained pushed her over the edge. She came, riding him hard, and he grunted as she pulled him close, grinding on him, forcing him as deep inside her as she could get him. Her orgasm was fantastic, one of the best she had ever had, and the aftershocks had her continuing to ride him well after the initial fireworks had finished exploding.

“Hansa,” he moaned her nickname needily. “I need to be out of you immediately.”

Her heart sank. Had she done something wrong? She shifted and his massive manhood slipped from her core. She felt empty inside, so empty from where he had just filled her so perfectly.

He shifted his hips, grinding his girth along her sex. “I am so close,” he moaned into her ear, and understanding dawned upon her. He was going to come, and he didn’t want to come inside her. Her heart burst, overfull of love at his consideration and respect for her. Pressing herself against him, she thrust her body forward. Her hips trembled as the head of his cock slid over her clitoris, lighting up her brain like a christmas tree.

His tail trailed up and down her neck. She turned her head quickly as it completed an upward path to her earlobe, catching it in her mouth. Godwin’s hands tensed as she sucked, catching the black tip in her teeth. His fingers dug into her butt and he moved her hips quickly over himself.

She bit down on his tail gently while at the same time flicking her tongue over the tip. He groaned her name and she felt his cock tense between her lower lips. Seconds later his warm passion splashed against her belly, the smell so strong and erotic that she had to taste it. His tail slipped from her lips and she caught the next gush of ejaculate as it came out on her fingers. She was sucking it off her fingertips before she realized it.

His taste was what she had been missing her whole life. “You taste good,” she murmured, falling into his body. He pulled them both down so that she was laying on top of him, sweaty and spent, taking care to favor her broken arm. She noticed his wings and tail were gone.

“You probably should not have consumed that,” he muttered without conviction.

“Why not?” she asked weakly, feeling so tired now.

“There is probably a reason,” he replied, sounding just as sleepy.

“Mmm-hmmm,” she hummed, pushing him further onto the bed. Somehow the two of them found the covers and slipped under them. She curled up against him, skin to skin, and fell asleep almost immediately, feeling completely sated and safe.

The Game Chapter 15: Playtime

The Game Chapter 17: The Next Morning