Page 52 of Collected By the Crow

“Ahh, Cassandra.” His tone might’ve concerned her, but it was too familiar. She whimpered and worked double-time, forcing her inner muscles to contract even tighter on the next upward roll. She swore she felt the vein on the underside of his shaft pulse inside her. “Woman, I’m going to burst!”

“Mmm,” she hummed against his throat. She loved making him come. She loved the way his warbles became incessant, the way his body went stiff, the pure look on his face that fractured her heart. The way his hot spurts fill her, always lasting longer than should be possible, until she overflowed. She loved the feeling of his come seeping out around his cock, traveling in teasing little rivulets over her asshole. She loved it even more when they continued to fuck while she was so impossibly full of his come already, only to take even more.

She peered at him through heavy lids as she continued to siphon his come until she felt it stream inside her, warm liquid filling her to capacity. She slowed to let him catch his breath, kissing his neck until his shudders subsided. He leaned his forehead to hers and stole a chaste kiss before nodding. She took his cue readily and rolled her hips again, this time pressing herself hard against his textured bump.

As her orgasm convulsed through her muscles, Qadaire let out a primal groan, and she felt him drown her cunt with more come.

Cass hardly registered the inhuman sounds they each were making. A silly, drunk part of her mind decided these were the sounds that binary stars made as finally conjoined with their beloved, into one brilliant nova eruption.

Qadaire’s wings pumped harder again and she watched the stars grow farther away as he resumed their flight. Another roll of her hips and she saw those stars behind her eyelids. Another roll, and she felt his barely-deflated cock back at full mast inside her.

“Qadaire,” she whispered against his feathers. “I love you. Even your darkness.”

“Cassandra,” he breathed.

Wrapped in his arms, they slow-fucked in the night air. When another orgasm claimed her, sleep close behind, she couldn’t say whether she was falling or flying, just that she was finally alive again.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Cassandra

Cass clutched her laptop across her chest. A group of her cohorts and fellow scientists from different fields were gathered in the conference room. All she had to do was open the door. Twist the knob and open the door.

And hope I don’t get thrown in the looney bin. Or lose her job. What would she do then? A tiny, soft, easily ignorable piece of her whispered, I know exactly what I’d do.

She took a deep breath and opened the door.

Everyone stood. Cheers and whoops were sent her way. She glanced back at the door, wondering if it was too late to hightail it out of there.

“Dr. Billing!” Mr. Manaham said. For once, the corporate big wig called her by her title. “You’ve really made us proud.” He motioned for everyone to sit. Then he raised his hands in her direction. “Take it away, Doc!”

“Okay.” She winced at her mousy voice and cleared her throat. “Thank you all for your support, and thank you for those kind words, Mr. Manaham. But”—she forced herself to sit, take a drink of water, and open her laptop—“everyone in this room knows better than to say I deserve the credit.” She hopped her gaze around the room, pausing at Ali’s proud smile. “In this room, we have specialists from all different fields. Epidemiologists. Zoologists. Pathologists. Some of you, I have no idea what your field of expertise is, but you stepped forward to offer your help. We did this, together.”

The room nodded, eyes kind, smiles soft. Cass clapped her hands, and the audience followed suit, clapping and smiling at each other.

Here came the iffy part.

“There is a scientist who is not here with us today who deserves far more credit than I do.” The room hushed. “Some of you know I went away to work with another specialist. It was his knowledge that truly put me in this seat.” She squirmed in the rolling chair. “He has worked with some of the most brilliant minds we know of today.”

Everyone still seemed calm, attentive. For the moment. Obviously, she wasn’t about to tell them vampires existed and had literally invented and discovered everything society held near and dear. They’d compromised, deciding people weren’t ready for that truth yet. She would present a watered-down truth, with a sprinkling of some downright lies. Ugh, she hated telling lies. Sometimes they were necessary.

“Qadaire, unlike most of us, has no single field he specializes in. We were very lucky that this case caught his interest.” She opened the voice recording on her screen and hovered the mouse over the play button. “While working on the mutated strand, Qadaire and I noticed the wolves living on his grounds seemed to be immune.” A ripple of awe murmured through the participants. “I have a sound clip from Qadaire ready to play. Once he’s done, I know you will all have questions. I ask that you hold your questions until I provide some follow-up information.”

Everyone agreed. Cassandra clicked play. Qadaire’s voice filled the room. He started with an overview of himself and his more recent works, which earned many raised brows and thoughtful hums. Then he got to the good part.

“Your very own Dr. Billing has encouraged me to speak out about my condition. I have incisors that act much like a snake’s. Think of the neurotoxic venom found in Black Mambas. Mine are similar, except they work as anti-venom, when coaxed to do so.” Despite the unfavorable circumstances,Cassandra’s pussy fluttered at the memory of coaxing his aphrodisiac venom to believe she was being Turned. “I understand this is difficult to believe. I admit it is one of the rare phenomena huma—people love to ponder but will never fully understand. Now you will see why I’ve chosen to be anonymous all this time.

“As I was saying, the excellent doctor in your midst approached me about my venom and anti-venom after observing the wolves on my grounds. I have a habit of leaving my unwanted food out for strays. When Dr. Billing witnessed a canine finishing the meat on a T-bone steak, she convinced me to subject my venom to experimentation. She proceeded to synthesize it on her own and add it as the missing component to the Canine X-3 cure. Therefore, she is duly owed all of the credit you wish to bestow upon her, regardless of her insistence that I share a modicum of credibility. Thank you. That is all.”

The noise level in the room rose from a hushed silence to a low rumble. She stood and raised a hand, but it wasn’t enough. Layla rose and demanded silence, then turned a very serious look toward Cassandra. Beside her boss, Mr. Manaham was pale.

“I’m sure Dr. Billing has more to say. Hopefully, something that will make any of this make sense.”

“Yes.” Cass cleared her throat. “Qadaire’s anti-venom, as I will refer to it, has a strong healing property that has the potential to change modern medicine as we know it. The problem was its inconsistency. Once synthesized, the anti-venom paired perfectly with our treatments, as proven by how fast-acting the recovery time is. It is my belief that this synthesized medicine can be used for many, many other treatments, potentially eradicating previously incurable diseases.”

Silence. Hands clasped over mouths, jaws hung in laps. She took a sideways step closer to the door. “I’ll take questions now.”

“Where is your data from the experiment on his venom?”

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