Page 66 of Guarded By the Nightmare

“Keep going,” I said, while rubbing my slippery clit. I had row upon row of teeth marks upon my belly and thighs, and the memory of him fucking me was fresh—I brought my fingers up to lick them, to tastemyself. “I mean it.”

“Mina,” he whispered again, coming closer, pressing in the edges of his palm. The darkness of his hand was obscuring all of the light in that part of my chest, and I moaned, going back to rubbing myself quickly.

“If you think I’m going to die without coming again,” I said, shaking my head, and that made him laugh.

“I love you,” he said, and I nodded.

“I know.”

The look of surprise he gave me then?—

“How?” he demanded.

“If you didn’t, Sylas, you wouldn’t be scared.” I pulled out my fingers, and this time I fed them to him, and he eagerly sucked my juices away. “You have to let yourself be scared to love someone. Otherwise there’s not really any room in your heart for other people, is there?”

His eyes searched mine. “And . . . you?”

“I’m letting you touch my heart, Sylas—you tell me.” His fingers had all but disappeared, as all of my light splashed back into place, taking him in—it made it look like he was pressing his hand into molten lava, as brightness overwhelmed me. I could feel his ingress, him taking up space inside, and there was no rational way to explain how it felt—not the slight swelling and pressure I felt trapped behind my ribs—but the fact that someone, who would never leave me, ever, as testified by all the strands of our future between us—wanted me terribly.

And that . . .

“Can you please fuck me too?” I breathed. “I really need to come. Please.”

“You are madness incarnate,” he said, shifting us both, so that he was over me, and I let my knees fall open. “Of course.”

49

SYLAS

It wasnothing to create a piece of myself to give to her, having done so already twice the same night.

But this time would be different.

I knew I loved her, and I was literally holding her heart. Her fragile organ was pumping in short excited bursts as she looked at my face, at the lines of light growing between us, and then at the space where my hand was embedded in her chest. The stuff I was made of slid between all of her atoms and time, so that I could feel her, but not hurt her, although the line between the two was impossibly close.

I layered enough of myself between her and the ground in both dimensions, so as not to hurt her as I settled her down, and prepared to enter her. I felt her heave a sigh as I started pressing myself in, and watched her eyes close as her head rolled back—then she came back to life again as I made my first thrust, looking between her breasts at where we met, and then at where my hand was plunged into her wrist-deep. I could feel my stroke jostle her body—and then the way her heart beat more quickly afterwards.

I wanted to feel it race.

I wanted to feel it explode.

I leaned over her and started fucking her with intent while she moaned. Her little cunt fluttered, remembering what it’d given me when I’d had my tongue shoved inside her, and I reached down to stroke her clit, the light between us scattering and rearranging every time either of us moved.

“You’re so beautiful,” she said, her half-lidded gaze drifting up, as she looped her hands behind my head.

I looked down at the places where we met, both my cock and hand, where her light was swallowing me whole.

It looked like I was losing myself inside her.

It felt like coming home.

My eyes found hers again. “You are my everything.”

The words made her smile and close her eyes again, even as her heart was fluttered in my grasp like a dying bird.

Maybe a dying lamb.

All I wanted to do was extinguish it.

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