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PELLUS SAT IN A NARROW BLACK CHAIR to face the judgment of his peers. The leadership of the Travelers Guild was arrayed before him, seated at a wide black table. The glass dome of the chamber deep within the Guild Hall glowed the purest white, the color of mourning.
An air of profound sadness hung over the five adepts at the table, and not only because of Roan’s death. Pellus knew they had assumed for some time that he would join the leadership when one or the other of them had tired of the post. This would never happen now. Ravellen, the Covalent Council president as well as a Guild leader, bore an especially pained expression. Pellus thought that she had much to answer for as well.
I do not understand why she supported the Council’s craven plan to maintain Lucifer as an external enemy.
A somber bell tolled. Thanis, the guild master, cleared his throat.
“Roan’s body lies suspended in the Gathering Hall. For a turn, the travelers will honor him. Then his family will take his body to the Stream. Ordinarily, as his mentor, you would have helped them with this, Pellus. Given the circumstances, I will do it.”
“Thank you, Thanis. Roan deserves to be so honored.”
“Yes,” Ravellen said. “Though he broke Covalent Law by traveling to the Earthly Realm, the Council has decided that Roan did so only due to your pernicious influence. He was an extremely promising navigen and he is a great loss to the Guild.”
You have no idea how promising he was.
The bell sounded again.
“The Council has considered your testimony at the hearing and judged this to be a Guild matter,” Thanis said. “The scribe is here to enter your formal statement in the records, after which, we will pronounce your punishment.”
Another tolling of the bell. Pellus bowed his head to demonstrate his shame, then raised his eyes to receive the crestfallen stares of the leadership.
“Roan went to the Earthly Realm at my request,” he said. “I asked him because I could provide only limited assistance to Barakiel and because I was being monitored. I abused Roan’s trust in me and his respect for me.
“He took Barakiel traveling, an attempt to distract him. Human women cannot satisfy the warrior’s erotic appetite. His sexual frustration had reached a boiling point. I feared he would slaughter humans, lose Balance and be killed by demons at the winter solstice.
“When I arrived to fulfill my solstice duties, I was surprised to find Roan still there. They had been lost in traveling, always a hazard with a young navigen.
“Roan was fascinated by my duties. He asked if he could observe, so he could learn about my concealment techniques. He was excited to see a demon. Flattered and foolish, I gave my consent.
“The demons smelled fresh blood. They sought to use the helpless traveler as bait. Barakiel slaughtered the demons as quickly as he could, but Roan did not wait. He tried to defend himself. He formed crystals in the air, an unbelievable feat for one so young. But he could not deliver them with sufficient force. A demon seized one and plunged it into his eye. It killed him.”
The leadership’s sadness dissolved in contempt.
I deserve it.
“Please state the reason you failed to protect him,” Ravellen said.
“I was not paying attention. I was distracted by a gang of humans, afraid they would stumble upon us. My negligence led to Roan’s death.”
Thanis motioned with his hand and the bell rang again. The adepts seated at the table exchanged looks. Thanis cleared his throat.
“We have made our decision,” he said. “You are to be expelled from the Guild. You will no longer be permitted to fulfill any duty. You will be monitored. When you leave this chamber, you will be permitted to honor Roan in the Gathering Hall and beg the forgiveness of his family. Then you will leave, never to set foot in this Hall again. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Thanis. If I may, who will be Barakiel’s traveler?”
Ravellen scoffed. “You have no right to that information. You are fortunate the Council did not choose to throw you in the Wasteland Dungeons, with this violation coming so soon after your disregard of our laws in the Turning. The only reason you are not in the dungeons was my assurance that they would not hold you. We hardly need violent warriors escaping in your wake.”
Pellus fixed his eyes on the ground and waited to be dismissed.
The murky, narrow alleys of the lower city gave Pellus the perfect place to wander. Here, the pale stone of the buildings was covered in grime that built up faster than the lesser warriors could scrub it off. Every so often Covalent would stumble out of haze lairs, their eyes showing the telltale blur of addiction. Others who overindulged in tor distillate lay passed out in the doorways. The sight of lesser warriors hauling away Covalent who had died from too much haze or dire essence was common here.
Am I here because I hope the misery of this place will lessen mine? Or because I want to join them?
He needed to get a handle on his emotions before he told Jeduthan about his expulsion. Certainly, she expected it, but no matter. The thought of his mate almost made him break down. She could keep her duty, but she would be shunted to the poorest assignments and ostracized, her life forever changed because her mate was considered a disgrace.
The thought of Zan safe did not ease his pain. That stubborn human was the reason he had led Roan to his death. He kicked a stray rock and turned down an even narrower alley.
I suppose I will let go of my bitterness in time, but now I wish to indulge it.
When he reached the edge of the city he gazed through the barrier at the rust-colored hills of the Wasteland. He detected an alteration to the energy of the barrier and turned to find Abraxos approaching him with murder in his eyes.
“I suspected you would have your spies on me, Abraxos.”
“They are not my spies, you pathetic excuse for an adept. They are the Council’s monitors.”
“Well, that might complicate your intention to kill me.”
“Ah, but I have sent them on their way. No witnesses here beyond craven addicts.”
The thick, dark-haired warrior took a few steps closer to Pellus, his black eyes reflecting flashes from the barrier.
“Surely you realize you will not succeed in killing me. You may be able to absorb everything I throw at you, but by the time you do I will be on the verge of a rift.”
“I know you killed my mate.” His throaty voice was as menacing as his stance. His body vibrated. “You, or that abomination in exile. I will tell the Council. You will be executed. Even you will not escape when the Guild adepts come to apprehend you.”
Pellus laughed, an icy laugh that caused the veins in the warrior’s neck to stand out, thick and ropey. “Go ahead, Abraxos. I look forward to your explanation of what Domist was doing in the Earthly Realm. Of why she killed Roan.”
He took a few steps, close enough now for the warrior to lay hands on him, to kill him. “I see you are failing to strangle me. Why might that be? Is it because if you harm me, Barakiel will rip your heart from your chest?”
His anger deserting him, Abraxos fell against the barrier, his energy sending green crackles along its surface. “I should want to die. You took Domist from me.”
“Why don’t you take a jaunt over to the Destructive Realm? Tell Lucifer you will no longer be his servant. I am sure he will accommodate you.”
A cold rain fell from a steel gray sky as Pellus emerged from the rift into the compound. The weather was fitting. He had been reduced to sneaking around like a criminal. He wondered if he should be like Barakiel and stand in the icy downpour, hoping it might somehow cleanse him of his sins.
I lack his talent for poetic suffering.
This thought amused him, so he was less gloomy when Barakiel answered the door.
“Pellus!” Barakiel snatched him into a hug and swung him around. “I was so worried about you! What happened? Have they punished you? How are you here? Do they know?”
“No, they do not. I will explain in a moment.” The adept straightened his robes. “Hello, Zan.”
The human had hung back, watching them from over by the concrete fireplace, where a blaze danced and snapped. Now she ran to him. She hugged him, too. He was so surprised, he let her.
“Wonderful to see you, Pellus. We’ve been out of our minds.”
“It is nice to see you as well,” Pellus said. “How are your injuries?”
“Coming along. The bullet wound is healing. The shoulder is rough, but it’s only been a week.”
“Yes. Well, please take care of yourself.”
Zan nodded and went to Barakiel. She put her arm around his waist. They stood beaming at him, the two of them overcome, as Pellus nearly was himself. He wanted to hate Zan as if blaming her would give him some relief, but he could not. He was drawn in by their harmonious energy, like a binary star swirling around a barycenter only they could see.
“Well, I hate to bring down your high spirits at the sight of me, but there are things I must tell you.”
The two disentangled. He and Barakiel sat at the kitchen table while Zan got them drinks. Pellus launched into the tale of the hearing and his expulsion from the Guild.
“I am the one who should be punished,” Barakiel said. “I am the one who failed to protect Roan. Once again you pay the price of my failure.”
Pellus opened himself to Barakiel’s energy. His vibrations held sadness, helplessness, and guilt, but with his love beside him these emotions only went so far. They could not swallow him. He was serene. The adept felt a new kinship with him as they acknowledged their shared responsibility. They did not have to bear it alone.
A choking noise escaped Zan. She put down the drinks and hurried into the bathroom.
“Is she all right?” Pellus asked.
“Not really. She thinks she is to blame for Roan’s death, for your situation.”
“That is ridiculous.” Pellus was surprised at his own vehemence, considering he had been thinking the same thing a short time ago.
Having composed herself, Zan came out. She sat down next to Pellus and looked at him gravely. “Can you forgive me? If I hadn’t been so stubborn and stupid Roan would still be alive. I should have let you protect me.”
“Zan, please,” Pellus said. “You were going about your normal human life when Barakiel came upon you like a hurricane. Nothing that has happened or will happen could ever be your fault.”
“That is exactly what I told her,” Barakiel said, wincing at his mate. He took a sip of scotch, then frowned deeply.
“What about Domist’s absence? How has that played out?”
“Abraxos has said she disappeared investigating Lucifer’s attack on the gates. He said she would not rest until the Realm was safe, and that he fears she ventured to the Destructive Realm and was slain there. He has turned her into a hero. The quickeners have begun their tributes to her bravery and selflessness.”
The warrior jumped from his seat, knocking over the heavy chair. He twisted back with his hands to his forehead. “Aagh, I want to kill him! Balance help me!” He locked eyes with Pellus. “If he so much as throws an odd look your way, I will throttle him with his own intestines.”
“I know, Barakiel. I believe it is the only reason I am still alive.”
His rage can still engulf him, mate or no mate.
Barakiel stomped off. Zan sat with one elbow on the table, her hand over her mouth. Pellus could imagine her thoughts. Her warrior’s life was fraught with peril. There were so many ways he could be taken from her.
I’m sure the conversation we are about to have will only increase her anxiety.
Her mate had gone to stare into the fire. Barakiel threw on another log. He came back, picked up his chair and sat down again.
“I wish there was some way for you to send me messages,” Barakiel said. “I will worry nonstop.”
“Oh, but there is.”
“What? How?”
“Osmadiel. How do you think I was able to come here today? She is shielding me. Right now the Guild thinks she is making me carry training equipment in the Wasteland.”
“That is an amusing picture.”
Pellus ignored the remark. “She has approached Foderen, a good friend of hers, an adept. She has told him everything about our plan to expose the Council’s duplicitous policy regarding Lucifer.” He turned to Zan. “Has Barakiel told you about any of this?”
“A little. I asked him not to tell me too much. I was getting overwhelmed, but I understand.”
Nodding, Pellus continued. “Foderen is appalled. It also helps that he was not a fan of Domist. He willing is to serve as your new traveler. He will keep you informed.”
“Good, good,” Barakiel said. “Is there any other news? Have any more battalion commanders come to Osmadiel’s way of thinking?” He rose and poured more scotch and some sort of fizzy red liquid for Zan.
“Not yet.” Pellus sipped his whiskey. “The battalion commanders who are with us have begun the dicey prospect of testing whether their warriors agree with them. In addition, Osmadiel wants to tell Ravellen about our plans but it is not the best time.”
“Why?”
“Ravellen has grown cold and distant, even towards Osmadiel, her close friend. The attack on the gates, her ill-advised support of the policy, Roan’s death, Domist’s disappearance, and not least, what she views as my betrayal—this must be her way of coping.”
“And how are you coping, Pellus?” Zan cringed as she asked the question as if she expected the answer to cause her physical pain.
“With my mate’s help. Has Barakiel told you about Jeduthan?”
Zan nodded. “He told me she is beautiful, brilliant and wise, even compared to you.”
“Ha! Well, yes. If not for her, I would have fallen into a swamp of recrimination. What is that human expression, ‘Justice delayed is justice denied?’ Not so much for the Covalent. She said that when we expose the craven policy of the Council, the treachery of Domist and Abraxos can be revealed. Roan will be honored as a hero. He will have justice. She counseled me to sink the energy of my grief into making sure this happens. Jeduthan has a way about her. When she says things, you listen.”
“I wish I could meet her.”
“Perhaps you will. She also said we may need to flee here, should our efforts be discovered.”
“By all means!” Barakiel said. “I can protect you. She has devised the perfect exit strategy.”
Pellus gave him a wry look. “I would call it an impulse. She does not appreciate Osmadiel’s black humor.”
“What do you mean?”
“I met with Osmadiel in secret shortly after I was expelled from the Guild. I must have looked miserable. She said to me, ‘Take heart Pellus. If we are discovered trying to foment rebellion against the Council, it will execute us, and you will not have to worry about your expulsion from the Guild.’”
The two Covalent exploded in laughter. They laughed so hard the table shook. The adept’s glass of scotch would have gone over the side if Zan hadn’t grabbed it. She chuckled at their antics, but then she scowled.
“I think I might identify with Jeduthan a little bit here,” she said when they had finally stopped and sat wheezing and wiping their eyes. “It’s not all that funny.”
“Eh, Zan, my love,” Barakiel said, leaning across the table to kiss her. “That was good for us. I feel lighter.”
After downing his scotch, Pellus rose. “Me too,” he announced. “But I should get back. No reason to increase our risk.”
Barakiel and Zan walked him to the door. The warrior’s face brightened.
“Speaking of increasing risk, Zan and I are having a party on New Year’s Eve, in three days. You may remember, it is a big night for celebrations here. Given that you are sneaking around anyway, and that you have a high commander on your side, perhaps you could come? Bring Jeduthan. She can learn something about the Earthly Realm, in case you must resort to your exit strategy.”
“That would be an insane thing to do, Barakiel,” Pellus said, breaking into a grin.
“Have we not already established that we are insane?”
As well as she could with one arm, Zan helped Scott, Mikey and Jason set up band equipment by the piano in Rainer’s wide-open living room. Mel’s daughter Lucy was with them, getting in the way while they all pretended she was helping. Mikey gave her a tambourine, which led to a fit of adorable shaking and bouncing.
The space looked festive, with lights strung along the mezzanine railing, a roaring fire and the Christmas tree in the corner.
His place is perfect for a party. Well, I guess should think of it as our place now.
Their guests wandered around, talking, laughing, eating, gaping at the art. Music from Zan’s playlist floated at low volume from speakers in the corners. The party was going well. Low key. Because it was last minute, a lot of people already had plans. She hadn’t invited anyone besides Mel from work. She would have been too nervous.
Jamal, her friend from the Philadelphia police, was there with his girlfriend. He’d brought a few other detectives and their spouses. Zan’s friends from AA had come, and people she knew from the local music scene. Some of Rainer’s orchestra friends were there. Mel and Emmett had invited people from Temple University where Emmett was a professor. It was a good mix.
Rainer stood by the fire with Pellus, Jeduthan, Mel, and Emmett. Mel was doing her best to interact with Jeduthan, even though the Covalent couldn’t say a word.
Mel, you are simply the best.
Jeduthan smiled a lot. She didn’t seem uncomfortable in the least, even with her imposed silence. Pellus told everyone she was an opera singer from Finland who had strained her vocal chords. He said she was under strict orders from her doctor not to speak. Because Jeduthan’s eyes were so black as to be unnerving, she wore tinted glasses. She was striking in her strange violet dress, her pale skin luminous against her salt and pepper hair. The other guests stared at her.
She does look every part the movie star.
However tedious the party might be for her, Jeduthan had a great time when she and Pellus first arrived. Rainer had taken her for a ride on his motorcycle. When they got back she addressed Zan in her lovely musical tones as Pellus translated.
“I had fun! Do you like the machine, Zan?”
“Oh, yes. It’s fun, even if Rainer always tries to scare me.”
“I never succeed,” Rainer said.
“Of course, you do not succeed,” Jeduthan said. “Anyone brave enough to be your mate would not be frightened by a machine.”
She gave Zan a secret smile, then they walked through the compound while Jeduthan asked questions. She was especially fascinated by the feral cats who lived in a line of trees by the river. The cats loved Rainer and he loved them, but Pellus always wrinkled his nose at them. Not Jeduthan. She leaned down. Zan was amazed to see them come to her.
When a barge went by on the river, Jeduthan ran out onto the long dock Rainer had installed the day before.
“Can we ride on one of those machines?” she asked.
“We will, in fact,” Rainer said. “I’ve chartered a yacht that will pick us up here to take us to see the fireworks. They shoot them from a barge like that one, a short trip downriver.” He gestured toward the south.
His remark caused a lively discussion between Pellus and Jeduthan that Zan could only assume was about fireworks, or maybe yachts. At its end, Pellus leaned to kiss his mate so tenderly Zan was shocked. She had never thought of him as tender.
Now, as Zan’s bandmates finished with the last of the equipment, she tore her eyes from the Covalent.
I don’t know if it’s a good idea for them to stand all together like that.
Scott asked if she was ready to go. They planned an acoustic set. All covers, popular rock and country songs that everyone would know. Zan nodded. Her shoulder prevented her from playing, but she could sing.
“Calling Rainer Barakiel,” Zan said by way of testing the mic. “Your fiddle services are needed in the band area, sir.”
Rainer grinned at her from across the room. He and Mel walked over. Rainer picked up his violin. Mel picked up Lucy. They had everyone’s attention now, so the band kicked into its first song, “So You Want to be a Rock-N-Roll Star,” by The Byrds.
Scott was having a great time playing his fat-bellied acoustic bass. Rainer replaced the horn parts with his fiddle. Zan loved the song. She danced as she sang. The way Rainer watched her as he played made the room disappear. He revolved around her, his violin shifting from mellow to seductive, his lips moving in a way that got her right between the legs.
To her astonishment, he leaned to her mic to sing with her on the string of “la, la, la” that ended the song. His voice was pure, strong and perfectly harmonized with her own. When they finished, she stared at him. The boys in the band stared at him, too.
“Well, color me shocked, Rainer,” Mikey said. “You always told us you couldn’t sing.”
Rainer shrugged. “It makes me self-conscious, but Zan made me forget myself tonight.” He brought his lips to her ear. “I couldn’t resist,” he whispered. “But if I’d kept it up, it might sound like something from another dimension.” Zan laughed. He dipped to kiss her.
“Okay, you two.” Mel came over, still holding Lucy. “The set is supposed to be for your guests, not yourselves.” She leaned toward Zan. “Seriously. You look like you took Molly. You might want to tone it down.”
Zan nodded with fake gravity. Mel smirked and walked back to her husband. The band launched into its next song. Eventually, the party turned into an informal jam session, there were so many musicians there. They drank all Rainer’s expensive liquor. It was a ball.
Around 11:00, Rainer announced that the yacht was out at the dock to take them to the fireworks.
“Can we bring the keg?” Jason asked to widespread laughter.
“The yacht has a full bar, along with a bartender.”
“You and Zan sure know how to throw a party, Rainer,” Scott said, slapping him on the back.
Before long, Zan, Rainer, Pellus and Jeduthan were standing at the prow of the yacht in a cold wind, waiting for the fireworks. Everyone else had opted to watch from the glass-enclosed deck above them.
“Are you warm enough, my love,” Rainer asked. He tightened his arms around her from behind.
“Nice and toasty, honey. Hey, do think Pellus and Jeduthan are having fun?”
“Are you having fun, Pellus?” Rainer called across the prow.
“Yes. Jeduthan has told me she wishes there were boats where we come from. Boats and cats and motorcycles.” He paused as Jeduthan said something. “And drunken hu—er—people. She has decided she likes them.”
They all laughed. In a minute, they heard an uproar from inside that signaled midnight had come. Zan leaned to the side and hung her head back.
“You’re supposed to kiss me at midnight.”
“Oh, right,” Rainer said. He cupped her head in his giant hand and obliged. When she heard the first booms of the fireworks, Zan wasn’t entirely sure they weren’t in her head. She opened her eyes to see shimmering gold playing across the sky.
“Do you have fireworks in the Covalent Realm?” she asked.
“No, not like this, but we have phenomena with similar beauty. The Stream fills the horizon of our city, flashing and sparkling in rich blue. Imagine a thousand shooting stars, their tails filled with diamonds and sapphires.”
Zan snuggled into him. “That sounds better than fireworks.”
“The Turning is astonishing to behold as well. Let me see, how to describe it.” He pondered. “It is like the aurora borealis, but purple and silver, its streaks forever dancing, rising from the ground in a glimmering wall of light. You can see it best from the ramparts, or the high terraces.”
“The Turning. That’s where you go to fight, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I get scared when I think about that,” she whispered.
“Your job is dangerous, too, Zan.”
“I know. It can be.”
Rainer found her hand and squeezed it. “For a Warrior of the Rising, the Turning is a feeling as well as a sight. Despite the peril we face there, few of us would trade our experiences. To feel the Turning’s power is not something I can adequately express in words.”
“I feel that way a lot myself these days.”
She leaned her head back for another kiss.
When the guests were gone, Zan and Rainer surveyed their house. Zan was surprised at the damage a group of civilized adults could do. Someone had spilled a beer on the Steinway. Lucky for them, Pellus made it disappear before he left.
That explains why Rainer was so mellow about it.
“My love,” Rainer said. “We should leave this mess and go to bed.”
“Truer words were never spoken.”
Sitting on their bed, Zan waited for Rainer to come out of the bathroom. She should be tired, but the evening had been so much fun she was amped. Fresh memories crowded in. Her friends’ laughter, Jeduthan’s quiet grace, Pellus’ eyes lit with love. Rainer playing, Rainer singing. Singing! The parade of musicians. The boat, the cold dark water, and the fireworks.
The party was like our coming out as a couple. A real couple. No more secrets.
An idea came to her, although she wondered at herself. Ever since her terrifying experience in the concert hall she’d had bouts of excessive energy.
Well, of course, I’m a little fucked up, with all I’ve been through.
She told herself everything would be back to normal soon, then she barked out a laugh.
You’ve said goodbye to normal, O’Gara. With a vengeance.
Zan ran to the weapons room. She grabbed the silky ropes that held the drapes back from the tall windows, then went to one of the glass cases and removed a dagger.
Yes. This one. He loves this one.
A modern blade, it had been handcrafted in Canada, simple, elegant and strong. She remembered how excited he’d been to find an artisan doing that kind of work. She hurried back to the bedroom, glad Rainer was still washing up.
When he came in she was displayed on the bed in a black fishnet body stocking, split between the legs for easy access. He licked his lips.
“Where have you been hiding that?”
“I’ve had this for a long time. A reminder of my dark days. I ran across it when I was packing my stuff to bring here. Does the one arm looped around my shoulder brace ruin the effect?”
“That is hardly what draws my eyes. Is that why you left the room?”
“No.” She held up the ropes.
His eyes glittered in the light from the small lamp. “What do you intend to do with those?”
“Tie you to the bed.”
“No handcuffs?”
“I don’t feel like explaining at work how my handcuffs got busted.”
“Then you must realize I could snap those ropes as easily as I could snap the paper that covers a straw.”
“Don’t you have any imagination?”
Rainer softly huffed. He bowed his head to her. “Command me, mistress.”
That’s the sexiest thing I ever heard.
“Take off your robe,” she said.
He complied. Her eyes followed the robe as it fell, then slowly traveled up the contours of his body, his strength and symmetry. He was hard, of course, and the place between her legs answered him. She bit her lower lip and rose to run her hand along his abs. “Get on the bed, spread-eagle.”
Once he had done so, she bound his wrists and ankles to the four posters of the bed with the soft, chocolate-brown cords. Rainer chuckled as she struggled to tie the knots one-handed.
“Quiet.” She scowled, then stood between his legs at the foot of the bed. She felt wonderfully lascivious. She hoped she looked it.
“I’m curious,” he said. “Why this?”
“I want to control your power.”
He smiled. “You’ve been doing that for some time now, Zan.”
She laughed as she went to the dresser.
Oh, have I really?
She retrieved the dagger from where she had stashed it, climbed onto his chest and held the blade to his throat. He grunted.
“I could kill you. Right now. Even you aren’t fast enough to stop me.” She measured his response as she stroked his powerful neck with the beveled steel.
No discomfort at all. Only passion. And something else. An invitation.
“You’re a dangerous alien,” she continued. “All this crazy shit would go away if I killed you. Why do you trust me?”
“My life belongs to you.”
A simple statement. Even though they were playing a game, Zan knew he meant what he said. She drew the blade along his bottom lip and looked in his eyes, cloudy with lust. She felt a current gather and spread deep inside her, thrilling in its contradiction. He was her greatest danger and her safest harbor, as she was his.
Those men in France he slaughtered. The price he paid. I wish I’d shot them for him.
When she kissed her mate she could taste the tinge of steel on his mouth. She leaned back, arching her body, rubbing her wetness against his hard chest. She wondered what had teased out this fantasy, but she didn’t care. That was her gift to him. She would love him without understanding. She set the dagger aside, pulled his lip with her teeth, then kissed him. Rainer was deep into the game. He acted like he couldn’t fully reach her kiss. Like he was hungry and desperate, so desperate. She pulled away.
“Love me, mistress. Feed me,” he said.
Zan bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. She sat on his face. He ate her greedily, noisily, sucking her so hard it hurt. She pressed into the pain, her pelvis making small thrusts against his mouth. Her body quivered. She was ready, so ready. She clambered down to impale herself on his potent cock. Grabbing his shoulder with her free hand, she rode, thrusting down then up, harder and harder, growling and grunting.
Rainer snapped his wrists away from the bedposts. He slapped his hands on her hips and pushed her down while he fucked her. He freed his feet as well and bucked on the bed as Zan thrashed, grasping his forearm, her nails digging into his flesh.
When he came with a ferocious spasm, she sat deep into it, wriggling, and let it push her over the edge. As she climaxed, she tilted back, her arm behind her, her hand jerking as her shout transformed to a trill, soft and high. What had begun as a ten-ton bomb slowed to waves of pleasure, sweet and fresh, like the smell of cool air in the country after a violent storm.
When her body stilled Rainer snatched her down into his arms.
“Balance help me, Zan, the way I feel in you,” he whispered. He smashed his mouth to hers, still so hungry. She let him take whatever he wanted.