Page 54 of Palingenesis

“You can’t hide it,” I tell him. “Not from me.”

His groan of pain at my tapping in his mind eases into pleasure, a moan escaping his lips and he bounces back on the half of my length that’s still inside him.

“You make me feel crazy,” he pants, rocking into me and taking more, his rim stretched tight around my length. “Like I’m losing my mind.”

My lips stretch into a wide, breathless smile.

“I do not need you lucid, beloved. I need you willing.”

Stretching over him, I press his face to the floor.

“I got it,” he growls, backbone arching. “Let you in.”

And with a guttural, growling moan, Shannon’s hole swallows my shaft to the root.

Then he relinquishes his mind.

I feel everything and nothing all at once, like the stitching between galaxies that holds it all together with a show of power and force.

I am both stretched to the heavens and held down to the rings of hell.

It’s torture. It’s pleasure.

My barb shoots from the crease below my shaft to sink into the meaty flesh between his sac and where our bodies join together.

His echoed cries roll down my backbone, leaving canyons only he can occupy and I fill him with the essence of me.

“You are mine,” I tell him as his hole contracts around me, his body succumbing to me. “Say it.”

“I-I—” He cries out once more, his back arching and body twitching. “I’m coming!”

Fingers scrabbling for purchase, Shannon finds none to hold except for me, my smoke, as he convulses, his length drooling all over the floor.

“I fucking hate you,” he finally says and I relish in the breathlessness of it. “I’ll never be yours.”

“Your words mean nothing.”

In time, he will see the consequences of his actions, the result of his existence. He will understand his life is tied to my own, our paths meant to cross at every possible opportunity.

He will be mine, wholly. And I, his.

“Rest, beloved. Time is short now, and my desire is long.”

Jerking against my hold, he hisses at the movement of my barb that pierces his skin. “I fucking can’t with you. What the fuck do you mean rest?”

Clicking my tongue, warmth explodes over my shoulders at his protest, and I fight the urge to fluff up in showmanship. Seems even the wings scarred into my back wish to have their go at him. To be seen and touched by him.

Another time, I coo mentally and will my smoke to release him.

He’s restless until I withdraw, wincing at the ache my body leaves behind.

“I’ll tend to this,” I tell him as I drag a finger down the new puncture in his flesh, mixing his blood with my release.

Shannon jerks away. “Tend to what?” His fingers flutter down to touch himself, feeling the evidence of our mating. My chest inflates, my shaft lengthening once more and yet I pause at his pained expression.

“The result of our actions. My saliva doesn’t heal like some of my brethren, but a salve will do.”

The beautiful rosy color drains from Shannon’s face, his legs clamping closed. “Brethren? There’s more of you?”