eight
Sazahn
The past eight weeks have been indescribably strange.
Sometimes, when I wake from sleep and am still caught between the dream world and the real world, I can convince myself everything was a dream. A horrifying, traumatizing, magical, delicious, bewildering dream, and that when I reach full wakefulness, I’ll be back in my rundown squatter’s flat, in the mattress on the floor, on one side of the room. And on the other, Cue will be sound asleep, maybe snoring lightly. We’ll wake, have coffee. She’ll go to one of her jobs as a barista. I’ll paint. And then we’ll go to work at Shakers together, picking up Jammy on the way, and ride the silver bullet to the redlight district. Just a normal day for a few working stiffs in Draco City, just trying to get by.
But then reality hits me when I open my eyes—as it is right now.
I’m not in my dirty, familiar hovel. I’m in an enormous soft bed covered with black sheets inside a luxurious high-rise, a corner studio flat with two floor-to-ceiling windows as walls. The lights of Draco City glitter below me, and it feels like it’s all mine.
My life before eight weeks ago feels like it belonged to someone else. I feel like someone else entirely. There’s an energy inside me that’s still foreign, though not unwelcome. It’s as if I’ve had an organ transplant, and my body is acclimating itself to housing it. The energy is silky black like the sheets I’m lying upon, pulsing, thrumming.
It makes my blood sing.
I rise from the bed and walk to the window. In another life, heights used to frighten me. Now I feel I could step off the top of the building and the freefall would make me laugh with joy, solid in the knowledge that even if I didn’t spontaneously sprout wings to carry me higher into the sky, the landing wouldn’t kill me.
Warm hands caress my shoulders, and in the reflection of the window, I see two tiny pinpoints of flame above my head, that match the ones that are eye-level with me.
My dark winged prince. My love.
His large palms sweep up and down my arms, then glide up my neck to turn my face back to his for a kiss that’s deep and wet and sweet. Every touch, every kiss, every joining of our bodies is a claim, a marking. It used to be him claiming and marking me.
Now, we claim and mark each other.
“Can you not sleep, my love?” Gaderel murmurs in my ear.
“No,” I say softly, leaning back against him and purring as he gently suckles my lobe. “The city. It’s calling.”
“You can feel it?” he asks, running his hand over my chest, covered in a black silk nightie. “Pulsing in your blood.”
“Mmm.” I close my eyes and nod. “Yes. It’s powerful.”
“Then the time is nigh.” He kisses my neck, brushing his fingertips over my erect nipples, teasing.
“Do you think I’m ready?” I ask.
“My love, you’ve been ready physically for some time.” He lovingly kisses my temple. “You just needed to believe it. Accept it.”
I turn in his arms and gaze up at him. “What if I fail? What if I can’t do it?”
He wraps his arms around my waist. “It’s natural to have doubts. I believe in you. But remember—I will be right there with you. Where you falter, I will step up. But only with your command.”
I smile, draping my arms over his shoulders. “My…command?”
His lips curl into the wicked smile I love. “Yes, my sweet. I am yours to command. I kneel at your feet. Perhaps you’d like a demonstration?”
Gaderel lowers himself to his knees, gazing up at me as he pushes my nightie up to my hips. “This is a favorite position of mine. Kneeling before you. It gives me ideal access…”
He lifts my leg and places it over his shoulder. A moment later, I let out a loud moan, head falling back against the window, as his tongue laps at my pussy. I slip my fingers into his hair and pull tight; the little sting of pain drives him on, and he eats me eagerly until I come on his tongue, growling softly like a beast.
Like a demon.
“I command,” I pant, “that you fuck me right now, Gaderel.”
Instantly Gaderel rises and tugs the straps of my nightie down to free my breasts. I yank down his silky sleep pants to free his thick cock as he sucks a nipple into his mouth. I let him tease my breasts for a bit, then sink to my knees and take him into my mouth. A moan rumbles deep in his throat as he braces a hand against the window and twists my hair around his fist. We both enjoy a little pain.
I massage the base of his cock with a fist while I suck him deep. He turns to velvet-covered steel in my mouth and a moment later, climaxes with a snarl. His warm cream flows over my tongue, and I drink him down eagerly.