Page 17 of Yearning For Her

This role reversal was unprecedented. He was always the one who snuck out in the dead of night while his latest human dreamt of the pleasure he’d lavished upon them. The mortals he’d fed from had always craved more, and some had become unpleasantly clingy. Hence rule two, which existed to prevent such attachments from growing. Human lives were fleeting and inconsequential. Their only value to Kian lay in the sustenance they could provide.

In their lust.

He couldn’t recall a single mortal who’d left him like this. Who’d crept away in the middle of the night without a word, who’d shrugged off his charm so wholly. And he’d certainly never fallen asleep after the act, had certainly never been so wholly unaware of his surroundings that he wouldn’t have noticed a female sliding herself off his cock and walking away.

What made Willow different? What was the strange tightness in his chest that had been created by her absence?

Kian swept his hair back and shoved himself off the bed. There was no point in exploring such thoughts. After centuries of life, new experiences were infrequent. Best to view the night as a welcome break in his routine, a fortuitous occurrence that had shattered the monotony of all the years he’d spent hunting and feeding.

Willow…

His cock throbbed at the memory of being sheathed in her heat. He tipped his head back and clasped a hand around his shaft only to pause.

The condom was still there—or the remnants of it, anyway. Dropping his gaze, he slid off the stretchy ring and held it up, staring at the torn latex dangling from his fingers. It must have broken while he was still inside her without either of them noticing.

It was only for her peace of mind, anyway.

He couldn’t reproduce with mortals unless he willed it, and there were no diseases that could be transmitted between his kind and humans. But he didn’t discard it right away. Instead, he lifted it higher, until it was in front of his face, and inhaled.

His eyelids fell shut as the scent of her essence filled his nose. His shaft hardened so swiftly and fully that it pained him, wrenching a groan from his throat. He clamped a fist around his cock again and squeezed, hoping to alleviate the pressure, to dam the sudden flood of want that swelled within him.

A wild urge sparked in his mind.

Find her. Make her mine.

She is mine.

This craving, this yearning, he’d never felt it before. It was at once the same as his usual hunger and yet entirely different. So much deeper and stronger, so much more compelling. He’d always needed to feed, had always been driven to hunt, but it had never been about his pleasure. It had been a matter of survival.

But he was full now. Full…and yet he craved Willow.

He bared his teeth and tightened his grip.

How would he even find her? He purposely learned as little as he could about the mortals he fed from. All he needed were their desires—and he sensed those naturally. He had no reason to get to know humans or bond with them. All they were meant to share was a moment of passion, of pleasure, before he vanished.

He knew only that her relationship had fallen apart earlier, and that her first name was Willow. She’d not lied about either; he’d felt the power when she’d given him her name, had recognized it as part of her true name. But a mortal’s true name did not hold power over them like a fae’s did, and a first name was hardly enough to find her in a city of hundreds of thousands. Why go through the trouble?

Kian didn’t need her. She was just another mortal. Another vessel of pleasure from which he’d drunk. There’d been countless others before her, and there would be countless more after. For now, he’d hold onto what she’d given him, but he’d forget her soon enough.

Just like he forgot all of them. Their faces and names bled together in his memory, weaving a tapestry of conquests worth recalling only because of the precious energy he’d taken from them, because their lifeforce had briefly sustained him.

Soon enough, Willow’s name would be another forgotten name. Her face, another forgotten face.

Still, if he ever saw her again… Perhaps he wouldn’t say no to another fuck. How could he give up a second chance at this? This fullness, this contentment, this fire?

Releasing his cock, he tossed the condom into the trash and stretched his limbs. He allowed his glamour to fall, spreading his wings behind him and rolling his shoulders and neck, savoring the feel of power flowing through his body. He felt more himself than he had in ages.

Thank you, Willow.

The tips of his wings brushed the ceiling before he let them dissipate, drawing their magical essence back into himself. He paused to snatch up his clothing before striding to the bathroom and starting the shower.

Willow remained at the forefront of his mind as he stood beneath the steaming water, and his cock responded accordingly. In his mind’s eye, he saw her delicious body, watched her move, watched her passion bloom. And he felt whispers of her touch everywhere on his skin.

Heat flared in his soul, spreading outward to permeate him, and he embraced it. Why fight? Why not enjoy a last bit of pleasure before the memory of her faded?

Kian took hold of himself and pumped his fist along his shaft. Ripples of pleasure arced through him, and he let out a shuddering breath. He envisioned her bright green eyes, so expressive, so full of that deep, sensual light. He envisioned her rounded hips, and his hands caressing her giving flesh. He envisioned her pink cunt, so wet and eager for him.

His fist moved faster and faster, and his breaths grew short and harsh. It was nothing like the real thing, nothing like her, nowhere close, but he couldn’t stop himself. Even if she wasn’t here, he’d take what he could from her.

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