Page 46 of Palingenesis

Like perfection.

Friction of flesh on flesh ignites sparks beneath my skin as I thrust, tingling me from head to toes, the smoky haze filling the room around us in pulsing waves.

The sounds our bodies make are melodical and vulgar, dampened only by the haze that blankets us, and I feel my control slipping. My movements are less fluid, jittery. My hold on Shannon’s mind is weakening.

He could wake at any moment.

Awareness taps at the base of my skull, a subtle reminder of the things my anatomy does when cresting such pleasure, and I shorten the strokes at which I enter him. My barb throbs from its hiding place beneath my shaft, requiring all of my power to prevent myself from piercing him with it.

I ache to release it, to feel it puncture his skin and mark him as mine. To make us one until my essence flows from his hole unencumbered.

I succumb to the thoughts that my beloved stirs inside me with a roar, leaving more of myself for him to find once he wakes.

Withdrawing quickly, I watch, enraptured, as his hole flexes around air, begging for my shaft yet again as he finds his own release in the covers.

Serves him right.

Chuckling, his body winking at me as I dress myself, I release the mental hold I’ve barely kept on his mind.

I cannot see what he does without joining him in slumber, but I can direct the paths his thoughts may lead.

Torture. Confusion. Sex.

The latter makes taking my pleasure in him like this easier.

He stirs, groaning deep as he stretches out his bare legs and hugs his arms around his pillow. For a moment, I watch him nuzzle the fabric, softened by what my actions have given him. A peace that leaves his skin coated in raised bumps, and his chest expanding fully.

Then he jolts, realization settling in.

There’s no need for me to be quiet as I make my exit in the shadows, because my beloved human can’t hear a single step.

Chapter 25

Shannon

He was fucking here, I can feel it.

My muscles ache with a deliciousness I can’t think about as I flail around in the covers, naked and disoriented–but I’m sure I passed out in my clothes.

The blankets tangle around me, coming along for the ride as I jump to my feet next to the bed.

I squirm at something cold smearing across my hip.

Swiping it away, my hand comes back covered in cum. My cum. That’s still leaking from my tip like the wet dream I was having was real.

Mother fuck.

The room—hell, the entire house—feels charged as I wrap the sheet around my waist and search it for any presence, any clues on how long ago he was here.

Nothing.

No bodies hiding in the corners of the rooms or odd figures in the shadows.

I can’t even find a trace that Henry has been home. He’s just… vanished.

I should… call the cops. Right?

“Fuck.”