I positioned myself above his cock, but I found myself hesitating in a terse moment of clarity. Then I realized, I didn’t want clarity. I didn’t want to be sharp or have my wits about me. I wanted to be drunk, I wanted to indulge, to do what felt good.
I sank down until his hot tip slipped inside of me. I sat down fully, possibly moving too quickly to adjust properly, and I flinched. I held him close, wrapping my arms around his neck as I sat down on his length, desperate to get it as deep as my body would allow. I had not forgotten how thick he was, and I loved the feeling every time. It added an extra sensation that I could no longer distinguish, pain and pleasure feeding each other like a mated pair of songbirds.
Silas’s proximity allowed me to hear every gasp, every moan that came from him as he buried his length inside of me.
“More . . . please . . .” I begged, riding his lap.
“You can have it all... I want to give you everything,” he growled, biting at my shoulder as one of his hands held me by the back of my neck.
My knees were scraping against the tiles below us as I rolled my hips. He stopped going deeper, cautiously limiting himself so that the spines could not reach me, which meant he was close.
“Do it,” I whispered to him, licking his ear playfully. “Make me yours,” I begged, becoming rougher with my movements.
He let out a strained moan before he let himself go, forcing my hips down and holding them there.
Pain shot between my legs as his spines hooked into the wall of my vagina, holding me in place as he pulsed, emptying with every throb.
I laid my head on his shoulder, holding on to him as I focused on the pulsing rather than the pain, though that faded as the venom from his spines did their job. Even with the concentrated dosage that I made for myself, nothing compared to Silas. No bliss could compare to my angel-haired woe.
His arms wrapped around my waist, holding my hips firmly as he caught his breath. “I like when you’re selfish,” he whispered in my ear.
“You were just here at the right place, right time. Do not fool yourself.”
“That’s not what it sounded like when you were begging me to?—”
“Quiet.” I pinched him.
“So thisisn’ta good time to tell you that you smell extra fertile today?” he teased.
I shot him a panicked look before pinching him again. “That isn’t funny; you said we’re biologically incompatible.”
Swiftly, he switched our positions, my back hitting the floor a bit rougher than anticipated, his hand gripping my jaw.
He let out a subtle laugh, his fingers digging into my cheeks to kiss me, rolling his hips slowly with his cock still spined inside. “That doesn’t stop me from fantasizing.”
“You are a sick man.”
“Does that make you an illness, infecting every part of my brain until I know nothing else?”
I pushed his face away, my head bumping against the tile as I refused to look at him. I don’t know what came over me, but I was too exhausted to care. The floor was cold, and my cramping was gone, and I had aninsaneurge for a bath.
The energy of the ground floor contrasted starkly from the one within my room, because it seemed brighter. In the main foyer area, there were many seated around in the scattered chairs and couches as the girls enjoyed each other’s company.
We collectively decided that the Nest needed a communal area, so we designated the first floor to be shared spaces. One of the flats served as a library now, the room with the most up-to-date kitchen was the dining room, a lounging room for the one with the largest fireplace, and so on. The general foyer area had many collections of furniture for people to lounge and converse, with a long rug leading from the stairs to the skinny hallway that led to the front door.
“Someone woke up late.” Phoebe greeted me at the bottom of the stairs. “Heading out finally?”
“I have to feed Edith after I get some work done at the lab. I shouldn’t be too long,” I assured her, wincing when my abdomen pinched again.
“Do you need something for the pain?” Phoebe offered, glancing from my abdomen to my face again.
“No, no. First day is always the worst. If it gets unbearable, I have tinctures in the lab.”
“If you insist.” She shrugged. “No need to go to the market today; we have enough from yesterday to make something new. Thinking of a hunter’s stew tonight.”
“Noted.” I gathered my coat.
Phoebe threw me an odd look, something lingering under the impression of politeness. Something awkward, like she wanted to wrinkle her nose at something she wanted to say but chose not to in the name of being proper. The moment was short-lived before she returned to a group enjoying their morning tea.
