He sighs.“I don’t know. Luca’s freaked out about stuff and…”He switches to speech, though he keeps his voice low. “We have enough to worry about ourselves right now. I’m going to let it go.”
I do not wish for him to ignore his brother, but he is not wrong. We have a lot to worry about. And a lot of comfort to take in each other’s bodies.
My knees press into the mattress, thighs stretched into a wide V over my Dante’s torso. His clawless fingers drag over my skin, the pressure perfect, his touch possessive. His tongue laps at myslit, coaxing me out to feed him—to heal him—as my head dips lower toward his hard, waiting cock.
I take a moment to enjoy the sheer pleasure of it. Cum is life. Dante’s is the reason I was able to heal, and to absorb his languages, and to become myself more than I ever had been on Erethar. But it is more than that with him.
He is not just a vessel for what I need.
He is mine.
“Cielo,” he moans. His hips rock up toward my face as I open my mouth and extend my tongue. I lap at his small testicles with the forked end, curling it around them as they grow heavy and fat.
My tongue twists around the base of his cock, drawing it up toward my mouth, and my lips part just a little more as I take him inside me.
I cannot describe in any language how this feels. To have him suckling me, to have him drawing my breeding seed inside of him to heal him as he heals me. His fingers flex on the globes of my backside on either side of my tail as he sucks me harder, and I do the same for him.
I know what he likes now. I know how to make every moment of this wild with lust, pleasure, and what he calls love. I send him waves of it through our connection as he gasps, and I allow the sensations to overwhelm me, even as I milk him dry.
“Cielo,” he says, words thick as he swallows me down. “Cielo, Cielo. Fuck.”
He spills once more, another pulsing spurt into my mouth, and I consume it before rolling to the side so I do not crush him. It takes great effort for me to twist my body, but I do not think twice about it because I need him in my arms.
He collapses against me with a needy whimper, shoving his face into my neck as he laves at the place my pulse is pounding.I wonder if he feels it too—the need to bite. To taste blood. To connect on that deeper level that will bond us for life?
“VySytheh,” I murmur, dragging my claws through his sweat-tangled hair.
He looks up at me, eyes bright. He is a man who is now free of pain, and over the long hours since we left Erethar, he seems both in wonder and perhaps even a little afraid.
“I’ve heard that word before. Is it like Niaus?”
I smile, my fangs pricking into my bottom lip, and I shake my head. “No, my Dante.”
“Can you explain it to me?”
I do not have the words. In any language, I think they would fail me. It is almost impossible to convey the importance of what a VySytheh is to us, but perhaps there is another way.
Leaning down, I press my forehead against his and let the old songs flow into him. He stiffens at first, then sags against me, and when I pull back, his cheeks are wet.
“Leeeeeking,” I say.
He laughs and sniffs as I lean in to lick the salty marks his tears have left behind. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’ve been crying so much lately.”
“A lot,” I say. “I maaake you…sad?”
“No. I’m not sad.” He surges in, taking me by my chin with strong fingers and kissing the breath straight out of me. “You make me happy. Can’t you feel it?”
I reach for him, and yes. Yes, I can. I kiss him back thoroughly, moving from his lips to his jaw, then to his neck, then to the spot on his shoulder I want to bite.
He gasps and turns his head. Just before I can pull away, he digs his fingers into my hair and holds me fast. “Do it.”
I shake my head.
“I want it.”
I fight his hold just enough so I can look into his face, and I drag a claw down the side of his neck. “Soon.”
“Why not now?”
