We play this game, Interitus and I.We chase each other across the city, always moving, always hunting.
Sometimes I am the prey.Sometimes it’s her.
We miss each other, of course.A telling feather lingering in the air the only clue.Or a shred of a shade left crumpled and drifting on the wind.
See, I ought to confess, I don’t really want to find her.Not anymore.
For eons I thought it would be my sister that ruined me, but I find that instead, it’s a demon.
A woman.
A heart.
A soul.
One that I cherish more than life.And that is terrifying.I carry the fear with me; it’s burrowed into my gut.It grows like marrow in my bones and flows through every capillary in my body.
One day Interitus will take her.
I don’t want that to be her fate.
But Interitus takes everything.
“Stop it,” Gellara says, pulling me towards her and kissing me until my lips are bruised and my mouth tastes of her.
She wraps me tight against her body, tugging the covers up under our chins.
“Stop what?”I sigh into her skin.
“You’re overthinking.I can smell it.If you need occupying, then I know what your hands can do.”
“Oh?”I say, giggling into her neck and tracing my fingers down her thighs.
Gellara moans, a sound that tinkles like gems and starlight.Her body arches into me as I run my hands up her legs and over the soft swell of her bum.It sends a throb to my core.I lean into her neck and pepper her throat with feathery kisses.
“Don’t stop,” she whimpers.
So I don’t.
I drag my fingers down her ribs, over her hips and straight to the warmth at her centre.She’s wet and needy, bucking her hips into my hand begging for more.
I push my fingers through her folds, my body heating up as she moans my name.I sing soft murmurings of praise to her and then melt against her as I suck her clit into my mouth.
She writhes and I lick, swirling my tongue around her hardening core.
She gasps as I push a finger into her entrance, gliding in and out.The rhythm of my tongue matches my thrusts.Her hips grind harder against my mouth.A moan falls from my lips as I dissolve inside the exquisite joy of giving pleasure.Of controlling her orgasm and having her fold for me.Bend and buckle and clench.It drives me wild, my own core tightening and soaking my thighs.
“Slower,” she begs.
And I relent, giving in to her every wish.
“Right there.More pressure.”
Her head kicks back as I go agonisingly slow with my fingers, but flick my tongue a little lighter, a little faster.
“Fuck,” she breathes and then she clenches so hard around my fingers I have to grit my teeth.
Her body lifts off the bed and she cries my name.I wish I could bottle that sound and keep it for the rest of my eternal celestial life.
