Chapter 39

39

SYLAS

I watched as she brought her hands up to "undress me" although that wasn't really what it was, but I allowed it, because I wasn't sure what else to do. I had flickers of imagination and memories of what things had once been like for me, so very long ago, and I knew what anatomy I ought to possess, but as for what she intended to do with it, and if I would truly let her, I could not say.

One of her hands pressed into my pants and I allowed her to pull a portion of me out, a fraction that she could easily grasp, a thick piece of black smoke atop her pale white skin, and I gave it weight immediately, letting it solidify so that she could feel its heft and...interest.

Because that was what she wanted, right? A piece of me for her. In her, perhaps, too, if I were lucky, so I could taste her again from the inside out.

I watched her lick her lips and then the tip of her tongue reached out to also lick me, gracing the head of the cock I'd created for her with a kiss.

I wanted to break out in lips to kiss her back—or in eyes, to see her everywhere—but I knew doing so would only make her shriek. It was hard to just let this solitary piece of myself be this one forgotten thing , when being everything, everywhere, all at the same time, was so incredibly grand—but when her tiny mouth dropped open to engulf me, I began to see the point.

She sucked on me, her cheeks hollowing out, her tongue stroking at my underbelly and across my tip, bobbing her head back and forth with no encouragement from me, taking my shaft in bit by bit, her pink lips riding higher on my darkness, and from out of nowhere, I gave a moan.

Her eyes flashed up at that, and she sucked harder, pulling again, swimming her hands in to circle the bottom of my shaft, working the last few inches her mouth couldn't get to.

All thoughts of extra lips and eyes were forgotten, as most of me stilled to watch her work. She was making soft, quiet sounds now, like she enjoyed it and needed me to know and I...I enjoyed it too.

Not solely because she was, but because I could feel myself inside her, stiffening, as a pressure I had forgotten lifetimes ago began to ache to be released.

I wanted this—from her—and I wanted to give it—to her—and if she kept licking and sucking and moaning like that, I would gladly strip off some of my essence and let her have it as a reward, assuming it wouldn't kill her.

"Mina," I purred, and that made her work harder. She was trying to please me, and I finally did as she requested earlier, setting my claw tips at her temple, gently stroking them back against her scalp. That made her shiver and stare up at me with innocent eyes. "Keep going," I urged her, and she rose up, bobbing her head harder now, further, somehow fitting even more of me inside, the tight heat of her throat sucking at my tip. My hands clenched into fists, pulling at her hair, which made her hands clutch at my thighs as she groaned and buried her face against me deeply, some obstacle at the back of her throat giving way as she took all of me in and?—

"Mina," I growled in warning, thrusting my hips up, wanting nothing more than to spear her on them. "Get off of me—now?—"

She made a sound of confusion as I let her go and pushed her back, making her land on her ass as I took myself in hand. The stuff of time couldn't be trusted with mere mortals, and I didn't want to kill her on accident, but I did fucking need to relive this—pressure—this—hunger—this—need?—

I growled again and then gasped, as my body betrayed itself, gathering a portion of my being to separate and jet out in black spurts against my palm. I grunted as I continued, feeling a shuddering pleasure ignite with each piece of me I might have shared, until my body was through, and everything I was, was mixing up again.

I closed my eyes—I couldn't remember ever feeling half-so-human, even when I'd been alive.

"Sylas?" I heard Mina's voice, soft and curious. I opened my eyes and found her kneeling nearby.

"My queen," I answered her, watching the inky substance I'd wanted to give to her fading back into the composition of the rest of me. No one else who'd ever hired me had wanted to give me anything, ever. All they wanted to do was take.

Whereas she . . .

"My lamb," I breathed—and watched the color drain from her face.