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There was Emily, a petite brunette with a quick wit and infectious laughter. Sophia was a tall redhead who was a talented and passionate artist. Jasmine, with the most incredible ass and smiling eyes, was an ambitious businesswoman. Lina, a voluptuous, naughty nurse with a great laugh.
Each of these women had left an impression on him and helped him understand what it meant to be human. Their uniqueness and individual strengths and vulnerabilities had given him a richer experience than he had ever known back on Anumati.
He finally settled on Rachel as an inspiration for his solo pleasure session. The biologist was perhaps the least beautiful of the women he had been with, but she'd captivated him with her exquisite mind and curiosity about the universe that he'd been happy to indulge, pretending to ruminate when he had actually been describing real phenomena.
Rachel was tall, thin, and modestly endowed, but she had a devious mind. Just thinking of her made him harder in an instant.
With a groan, Negal reached into his pants and gripped his swollen erection.
At first, he stroked it leisurely, his hand moving up and down without applying much pressure. It was like saying hello, a gentle communion before even the first kiss, just to let things warm up a little.
The image of Rachel sitting on the counter in her kitchen, her shirt bunched up over her small breasts, her nipples dark and stiff from the treatment he'd given them only moments ago, her legs spread wide, and her fingers threaded in his hair as he licked and sucked.
So wanton, so sexy.
The sound of her moans reverberating in his head, he cranked things up with his hand, his grip tightening as he moved up, squeezed the head, and then went down in a corkscrew motion.
After Rachel had orgasmed all over his tongue, he'd gripped her ass and impaled her on his shaft in one powerful thrust, and she'd come again with a scream that had reverberated through the small kitchen of her Lisbon apartment.
Given the sounds coming from the bedroom, things were getting heated in there, and as he swiped his tongue over his fangs, Negal tasted venom.
He was ready, in more ways than one, and when he heard Karen scream her orgasm, his own was triggered, barreling up his shaft with a nearly unstoppable force, but he couldn't let it happen—not until he fulfilled his task.
Squeezing the top off with a vice-like grip, he bit down on his lower lip, nearly slicing through it, and the pain was enough to halt the eruption.
Blood dripping down his white shirt, he hiked his pants up, stuffed his aching shaft behind the zipper, and reached for the syringe.
Gritting his teeth, he tore the package open and made a fist before sticking the needle into his vein.
The vial filled so quickly that he had to yank the needle out, and then he was spraying blood and had to lick the puncture wound closed.
Syringe in hand, he rushed toward the bedroom and the woman he was about to help induce into immortality.
Gilbert
As the aftershocks of Karen's climax subsided, she collapsed on top of Gilbert's chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly while his heart still raced from his own orgasm.
"I love you," he whispered into her neck.
Panting, she didn't answer, and he felt a surge of anxious anticipation that felt familiar and justified, but when he tried to think of what he was waiting for, the thought slipped away.
There was a surreal, dream-like quality to the postcoital bliss, and as Negal quietly entered, Gilbert's mind couldn't process his presence. The god felt distant, like a shadow at the edge of Gilbert's consciousness.
As the specter's hand reached out, cradling Karen's head, Gilbert tensed, sensing that something monumental was about to happen. But it felt like part of a dream, and a veil separated the ghost of the god from reality.
Then, the ghost of Negal tilted Karen's head to the side, exposing the delicate skin of her neck and licking the spot.
Gilbert felt a surge of fear and possessiveness gripping him. Everything inside of him rebelled against what was coming, but he was paralyzed, held by invisible chains that were nonetheless unbreakable.
The god hissed, flashing a pair of monstrous fangs, and struck, piercing Karen's skin.
Gilbert expected her to scream in pain, but she only groaned softly. And then she was climaxing again while the fangs were still embedded in her neck.
He felt like his brain was about to explode through his scalp because he needed to stop what was happening but couldn't move.
It seemed like forever before the god retracted his fangs, licked the spot clean, and then was gone between one blink of Gilbert's eyes and the next.
Karen was still climaxing, her sheath gripping his rapidly hardening shaft, and soon, he was coming again.
