Liquid fire flows from the bite and quickly makes its way through my body. My cock grows rigid as my balls empty, the white-hot pleasure searing me and making my back arch. Still, she rides me, her own orgasm hitting her and her body clenching around my dick, milking more cum from me, until she finally releases the bite and licks the spot.
Around me, the room spins, swirls, as my girl happily sighs and snuggles tightly against me, draped over me.
I crash into oblivion.
* * *
Dreams.
The things this woman does to me, thedreamsI have.
This time, it’s of the two of us walking in woods I recognize as being at my estate in Scotland. It’s an overcast day, and we’re further shaded by the thick canopy of trees. Eilidh looks radiant in a blue sundress, her breasts round and full over a tummy already swelling again, and in my arms…
I carry a sleeping baby not quite a year old.
I instinctively know if he was to open his eyes, they would be violet, like hers, like Parxon’s—
grandsire
—and her laughter as she races ahead of me fills my soul with warmth I never dreamed possible to experience again.
We come to a clearing, where three men are setting up a picnic for all of us. I recognize Parxon and Zuzu, but while I think I should know the third, like he is familiar to me, his back is turned and I cannot see his face or hear his voice.
But in my arms…
I can smell the baby’s sweet scent, a mix of Eilidh and my own. We’ve named him Robert, and while I know this is a dream I can understand now why Eilidh doesn’t want to leave her father’s house and return with me to our world.
This joy, it is addictive, a new obsession for me to chase.
Unbounded happiness, my soul full and at peace and healing in a way I never thought possible.
So many impossibilities within my grasp.
And then it all fades to thick, inky blackness, leaving me to crash into oblivion.
* * *
I awakenthat afternoon to the glow of sunlight around the curtains covering the bedroom shutters and, for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m not choked with panic. Fear and dread no longer fill me.
Neither does the usual stupor that arrives with the sun. That was simple exhaustion—and maybe an effect of her bite—that sent me to slumber, not the sun’s dawning.
Not this time.
Eilidh lies snuggled next to me, sound asleep, exhaustion carving lines deep in her face that are nearly painful to my soul. She doesn’t deserve to worry—she’s suffered enough of it in her life. I want to take care of her, make her smile, ease every burden.
Moving slowly, I extricate myself from beside her and climb out of bed…
And with the dream still in my mind, I pray.
Carefully, I tug one of the curtains open, and a lone sunbeam spills through a tiny gap at the top of the shutters. I stand there watching it, where it’s picking up dancing dust motes and flowing over a shelf on the far wall.
Reaching up, I wince as I yank a couple of hairs from the back of my head. Then I lay them on the shelf and nudge them just to the edge of the sun’s path.
And I step back into safety and wait.
The minutes creep past. Not believing it, at first, I watch as the hairs are fully enveloped by the light.
They do not dissolve into ash.
