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What amI supposed to do?
Notfuck Hercules constantly?
Exactly. There’s no way around it. The sex is for health reasons, and for sanity reasons, and because I can’t breathe without wanting it.
I realize that within about five minutes of waking up the next morning, no signs of the nightmare, a naked Hercules in my bed.
The onesingleproblem is that I can feel it starting to come on again. The next nightmare is distant, waiting in the wings, but it’s still there.
He opens his eyes as I climb on top of him.
The windows are set to let a little light in during the morning so I don’t lose track of my days, so there’s enough to see the shadows and lines of his face, enough to see the pink flush in his cheeks, enough to see the gold streaks in his eyes.
Hercules arches an eyebrow at me, sleepy, wary. “You don’t want to discuss last night first?”
“You’re already hard. Doyouwant to discuss last night?”
He purses his lips like he thinks we should, which would be honorable and totally unnecessary. It had to be done. I had to be fucked. He had to do it.
There’s a huge part of me that’s relieved to the point of breathlessness that itworked. There’s another part of me that wants to do it again for any reason whatsoever because it feltthat good.
I slide my pussy over his cock in case that helps him decide.
“No.” His sleep-rough voice is definitive, and then his hands are on my hips, and nobody discusses a damn thing for the better part of an hour.
Hercules forces me to put on a robe and dresses himself in jeans, then sits me at the kitchen island and makes pancakes. It’s all very off-script. The light is only as bright as he needs it to be.
Still hurts.
Not a great sign, but it’s easy enough to ignore while he’s shirtless in the kitchen.
“Talk.” Hercules doesn’t turn away from the bowl where he’s stirring pancake mix.
“Why should I?”
He looks at me over his shoulder, his eyes bigger than I’ve ever seen them. “Daisy. Talk.”
A flash of heat moves over my body. Did my soul depart my mortal coil several times last night? Yes. Yes, it did. Do I want to leap on top of him even now? OfcourseI do. But I want more, too.
Maybe it’s the seizures. They’ve changed my brain forever, and I want all the things I can never have with Hercules. Not permanently, anyway.
A kitten mewls.
I whip my head toward the sound. Hercules is around the island, his body between me and the not-real kitten, before I can say anything. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
He narrows his eyes. “What did you see?”
I scrub my hands over my face. “I thought I heard a kitten. There’s definitely no kitten in here, though. You can stand down.”
He moves back to the opposite counter.
“If I’m standing down, then you need to start talking.” The thing is, hearing a kitten is not a good sign, either. I stare down at my hands until Herculesthunks the bowl on the island. His eyes are narrowed. Fiery. I couldn’t see him last night, but I bet he looked like this.
“What?”
He holds my gaze, and my lungs shrink. They can’t take in as much air as before. Nobody looks at me like this. Nobody outside my family can make eye contact with me for a normal amount of time without getting uncomfortable.
