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Wet air hit my skin, the door torn clean off the vehicle, and out we went, my teeth still in the meat of him, my hands once again bound by his fist, and his arm under my ass.
I was carried inside like a prize, through unfamiliar dark halls, down lower into the bowels of the building, where even I had never dared explore. Despite the academy’s high-functioning filters, the air inside smelled of warm earth and growing things, of an unforgiving planet where the weak had no place. Of fog.
Yet that strong male, feared by others, would see I was protected in the dark.
There was nothing luxurious about the room he locked us within. But the sound of that lock was my life—my pure, perfect relief.
Someone had been wise enough to leave an offering in the scant time it had taken to plummet from the upper levels into the dregs. An assortment of fresh meats—still bloody and smelling like heaven—had been set on a side table near the entrance. Tempting enough I was willing to unlock my jaw and slide down Cyderial’s body, sighing my relief.
The dank, ugly space was perfect. “Yes, this is where I want to be.”
A utilitarian room full of sweet air saturated in the smell of my mate. Not a single window to be seen, yet I knew the fog was near all the same. Knew it rolled against the sides of the building, like waves in a sea.
It felt perfect.
Upon my relief, another wave of fluid ran down my leg, dripping on his clean floor. Yet still I was plugged, my stomach muscles rippling across my belly. But something was missing as my insides clenched and did not find what they sought.
On my whine, Cyderial fell to his knees before me. Nose to my sopping crotch, he breathed in deep, gripping my rear so he might hold me close.
Tatters of skirt were in the way of where his mouth wished to be, the fabric caught and pulled higher until he might swipe his tongue through the mess drenching my thighs.
Which left me rocking up to tiptoe, my head thrown back, when a sensation, unlike anything I’d ever known before, stole my breath.
Cyderial had fucked me many times in the weeks since he imposed my addiction, and always, the pleasure had been superb. This was something else entirely.
My nipples ached and tingled, my spine released with a series of pops, and my chest cracked out a noise that bounced off the walls with a dangerous instinctive call.
“Take out the plug!” I cried. He had to be inside me. To fuck me right there on the floor, the fresh meat be damned.
“No.” His reply was harsh like the glare he leveled me with when shock stole my attention from his metal ceiling so I might blink at the cruel man.
Shivering with a need beyond anything I might have imagined, I knew my body could not wait. “What?”
“You must build your nest first.”
Of course,a nest. What had I been thinking? A place where he might help me through the urge. Soft things needed to be precisely arranged. Layers of comfort I could roll around on, that he could fuck me on, that would be comfortable for what would take place between us.
What would take place between us? My body had certain demands, so much that I could see my belly rippling as more fluid ushered forth.
But that tongue of his was no longer slathering between my folds.
He was no longer kneeling but taking my fingers so he could lead me to his sleeping alcove.
Beside it, cabinets full of velvety soft blankets waited. Some fluffy, some thin as a whisper. Pillows full of color brought life to the dark cave of his rooms. Thrilled, I dove right into them, grabbing whatever my arms could hold—deeply pleased and eager to begin arranging them just so.
Cyderial’s apartment within the academy was truly small, perfectly proportionate in its cave-like arrangement. I climbed upon his mattress, arms full of blankets, and purred in delight to find it would be more than adequate for my needs. Pinks, silver, purples, teal, so many pretty colors and patterns he gathered for me over the years, and I spread it with joy.
In case, he’d said. And I laughed to myself at the mystery of hybrid men.
He waited patiently so I might perfect the dark corner. Brought more and more—handfuls of pillows and throws, his hands stroking and petting, releasing my hair from the mechanical device while I focused on the task at hand.
Bowl-shaped, lying in the midst of it, I would be surrounded by softness. I would be able to drape my body over pillows so my hips might open wider. Force him down in it so I might claw at his chest and take what I wanted.
My nest was perfect.
Absolutely perfect.
Never had I seen anything more lovely.
