A BLOOM OF DARKNESS by Cthulhus Buttercup

Feature Title: A BLOOM OF DARKNESS

Published: 04.09.2023

Story Codes: Demonic, Animal Death

Synopsis: The Dark Wolf will always find his Light.

Author’s Note: My deepest appreciations go to HasdrubalClitomachus. Thank you for being an amazing beta reader, editor, and incorrigible encourager of my scribbles. This is my entry for Lit’s Summer Lovin’ Contest. If you enjoyed it, please vote/rate it!

A Bloom of Darkness

I’ve always had a thing for the Wolf.

My therapist told me it was because I wanted to heal someone who was as broken as I was. That wasn’t the only thing he was wrong about, but it is the one that amuses me the most. I never wanted to heal the wolf. The very notion demonstrates a misunderstanding of the wolf’s appeal.

There was never anything to heal, for him or me.

Such a nice girl, but a bit odd. That was me growing up. Not that I had much say in it. My mother was sick more often in my memories than not. My high school years were filled with fly by studying and picking up whatever shifts I could manage when I wasn’t cleaning her up. I know I sound heartless. I guess I kind of am, after all.

The most vivid memory I have of my mother is of her devastating me at seventeen. I have a brother a couple years my junior, Lucas. One day, with my brother next to me, I asked her why she’d name him Lucas after naming me Lucia. She didn’t hesitate- no pause, no contemplation. Her answer?

“I wasted it on you. I liked the name and when he came along, well, he was the one I actually wanted. So I gave it to him.” Lucas didn’t say anything, he just looked away from me. That’s how he always dealt with Mom hurting me. Same for Dad, actually. When she aimed for me and hit, she’d leave them alone. I guess that was good enough, reason enough for them to stay out of her way. She had things she wanted to do, and I’d simply gotten in her way with my birth.

Her confession made me hate my name. For the scant few that would care and possibly oblige, I asked them to start calling me Luce instead. I couldn’t bear Lucy but drop pronouncing the ‘y’ and Luce was fine. No one really gave me much guff about it. That’s such an impressionable age, and everyone wanted a nickname. Still, I hated how much her opinion, her lack of even a modicum of care, mattered to me. Words do matter. And hers had destroyed me.

My mother passed away my senior year of high school. In retrospect, her cruelty towards me is probably why I ended up marrying someone just like her. Part of me subconsciously hoped that if I could make him truly love me, that maybe in some small way it would prove that there wasn’t anything wrong with me. That she was wrong. That I was loveable! But it didn’t play out that way. At my best I was never good enough, for either of them. And I did try to give them my best. Some people just can’t bloom.

She died in late September. I went back to school in early October. Even in high school I was never one to develop close friendships. It’s not that I didn’t want them. I did, badly. It was me; I just wasn’t wanted. I’m weird- I get too excited about things, I come off as abrasive if I stand up for myself, I enjoy arguing! At least, I used to. Now it’s all just loud anger that sends me into a spiral.

Everyone was kind enough, in that no one said a damn thing. Some of the teachers apparently didn’t get the memo though. Tsking about me having missed a few weeks of school. It didn’t feel like all that much time to me.

When Mr. Jenson tried to tsk at me for having not been around, Rory Vargr lit into him, hard. Hard enough that he got himself kicked out of AP History. He didn’t care, as long as they didn’t kick him off the wrestling team. Rory’s mom had told me that was the only thing he and his dad really had to talk about. As kind as Rory always was to me, he would never sacrifice that. And I would never let him.

I found him running laps after school that day. Even then, a month outside of eighteen, I had a painfully full bosom and wasn’t about to try and keep up without donning a fairly heavy duty sports bra. He stopped when he saw me, which I knew he’d hear about later. From his coach and/or the other guys. Not that he gave a shit about that.

“I wanted to say thank you for earlier. You didn’t have to.” I always liked talking with Rory, but it was difficult for me. He’d stare into my eyes, perpetually holding my gaze. Except I could never match it for long and I’d always look away. It made me feel… strange.

“Jenson’s a dick. He had it coming,” he smirked as I once again looked away from him.

“Yeah, but you’re not. And you shouldn’t have. Now you’ll have to take an intro history course and—”

“Luce, it’s fine! I already have a full ride with a wrestling scholarship. That’s all I ever really cared about with that class.”

“Rory! I didn’t know that! Congratulations!” I quickly hugged him, only realizing a bit too late that he had a fine layer of teenage sweat and musk clinging to him as some of it transferred onto me. After the initial shock I didn’t mind. He felt nice. Any contact felt nice.

“I gotta get back to it. Tell me if you need anything or if anyone else gives you a hard time, okay?”

“Sure. And you let me know if you need anything too, okay?”

His father was battling the same kind of cancer that had killed my mother. That sort of thing creates a morbid type of camaraderie. He nodded as he ran off, joining a few of his teammates. They slapped at each other for a moment before dropping it. It was a well-known fact that Rory had a thing for large breasted girls. But I was weird, which was also a very well-known fact. He wasn’t a conscientious kid, which meant he was a popular kid. Our school never really had those rigid, stereotypical cliques, but there were groups. And we didn’t run in the same group.

Rory Vargr’s father passed away the summer after graduation. His death was a much bigger deal to the whole town. Dr. Vargr ran a fairly successful biotech company that was globally recognized for its multitudes of breakthrough innovations. It was an ancient, family business. Rumor had it that our town grew up around an old Vargr apothecary. A family of unbelievably adept healers.

Not that Rory wanted to have anything to do with any of that. He wasn’t exactly a good kid. At least, not a well-behaved one. Notorious troublemaker, bright red hair, tall, bit of a jock, funny, kinda mean to most people. Never to me though.

I wasn’t sure how he’d take seeing me at the funeral, but his mom had always been so kind to me, and I wanted to see her. She was holding it together pretty well. Like with my mother, this hadn’t been a surprise. And death was no stranger to their family. Rory couldn’t stand how well she was taking it though. Or how she kept staring at his hair. Every time he’d catch her looking he’d stare daggers at her. It was a little curious, but so is death and life and love.

His eyes were full of pain and fury and I’m not really sure what came over me. I hugged him and felt him snarling, howling, desperate to get away. When I pulled back, afraid that it was me he was trying to escape from, I could plainly see a plea for help written on his face. A quick glance around before I grabbed his hand, pulling him to the back of the funeral home and outside. I had parked a block away and we walked, wordlessly, the tension eating away at me.

Moving as stealthily as only two teenagers running away from a funeral can, we climbed into the back of my Pontiac Aztek with its tinted windows. I’d turned the car on and the A/C all the way up given the temperature. If anyone were to see him in my passenger seat, it’d either be all over town or they’d feel compelled to stop and ask him if he was okay. Right now he wasn’t and wanted to be left alone. This way we had our privacy, weird kid, bad kid, troubled kids, whatever we were.

Drawing my legs up under myself, I kept tugging at the lacy hem of my black funeral dress, trying hopelessly to cover my knees. His legs were spread out wide as he distractedly took the space he needed. He was tall enough, but even being in a bigger vehicle wasn’t cutting it. The thought to say ‘sorry for the lack of space’ arose, but he always got bristly when I would apologize. My fingers kept fidgeting with the hem instead. Until he noticed and stopped their movements, gently laying his hand over mine. We were quiet for a time, both just looking at our interlaced fingers.

“How do you deal with it, Luce? The hurt. My chest aches and I want it to stop,” he pleaded, as if I’d have an answer that could help him in any way.

“I… I don’t know. I’m sorry. I was, am, sad of course. But my chest never hurt like that.” He looked at me wretchedly, but it was different than even a minute ago. I didn’t want this to be about me, for a plethora of reasons. “Everyone deals with their guilt differently and on their own timeline, right? The nicest thing I heard was ‘may your grieving process be as thorough as it can be,’ and even now, what? Ten months later, yeah, it’s still hard.”

“Luce, you said guilt.”

“What? No, I….” Fuck. Did I?

“You have nothing to feel guilty about. My mom’s been your doctor since you were six. You think she doesn’t know how your mom treated you? That I don’t know?”

Red-hot tears started to swell, threatening to fall. I wanted to tear him a new one. How could he say that to me? How could his mom have known anything?! I’d never said a damn word! (I hadn’t dared.) A swirling heat and an oppressive dizziness began rising in my head. I thought about kicking him out of my car, but he looked so lost, so confused. Shaking my head I moved to leave. Walking it off might help, if nothing else it’d give him some time to himself. That’s what he seemed to need anyway.

Grabbing me around the waist, he pulled me back against his chest. “Rory, just let me go. You have your own stuff to deal with right now.”

“What if this is what I want right now?” he asked as he held me tighter.

“I….” I could never tell him no. I never wanted to. Resigning and relaxing my tensed body, we scooted back into a more comfortable recline. His arms still held me to him, his legs on either side of mine. At one point I felt his tears running through my hair and dripping down onto my shoulder. I nuzzled my head back against him, eliciting a tighter hold around my waist.

When he sniffled his nose I quickly hopped up. Well, as best I could anyway. He grumbled, not wanting to let go of his comfort. “I have tissues!” I retorted, defending my movement as I leaned and stretched over the second row of seats, straining for the box I kept behind the front passenger seat. Handing it to him I noticed his eyes were uncharacteristically falling anywhere but on me. It took me a hot minute to realize my bawdy mistake. Having likely just flashed him my bum, I wasn’t sure if his reddened cheeks and ears were from his tears or my ass or both. Regardless, I was mortified.

Ignoring it, like I did anything that made me uncomfortable, I pressed on. “You’ll probably want to keep some tissues in your car. Driving along, listening to whatever or nothing, and another wave of grief will hit. Always at the worst times, by the way. Better to be prepared.”

“Good to know,” he said as he cleared his throat. An awkward air had settled. I didn’t know what to do with it, or what it was, really.

“Maybe we should get back? Your mom is probably—”

“Not yet. Please?”

“Sure, Rory. Whatever you need.” I meant it, but he snickered as he pulled me back to him.

“If it’s not too much, could I just hold you for a bit? Facing me this time?”

I managed to hold in my own small laugh. Death, loss, grief- it’s all really fucking… peculiar. If you’ve never buried someone you loved dearly you’ll think me wretched, but every time I’ve had to do it, you find little moments, small things, trivial, occasionally inappropriate humor to lighten your soul. But I couldn’t stand for him to think I was laughing at him instead of merely thinking of how some would find this situation untoward.

With a half grin I nodded and tried to curl up next to him. Nothing was working to his satisfaction. After a few frustrating minutes he simply moved me onto his lap so I was straddling him as he held me. Sitting elevated on his lap like I was, his head still came about even with mine. Yet before long he managed to cradle his face against my neck, his head on my shoulder, his lips resting on my exposed collar bone.

I didn’t want to be feeling my nipples harden while I was wearing my funeral dress, even with it hiked up as it was. I didn’t want to be noticing my breaths becoming deeper, longer, my chest rising and falling more prominently against him. I didn’t want to squirm reactively, feeling myself tingle as my spread legs rested around his muscular ones, my increasingly wet pussy against him.

He pulled me tighter to him as though he was trying to erase the space between us that already no longer existed. Now I could feel his own heavy breaths as I pulled him in tighter too. Feeling my hold, it was as if he let himself go. Releasing a long, heavy sigh, his body relaxed against me as he nuzzled his face against mine. He’d let his red beard grow out somewhat, as much as he could at eighteen anyway, and I loved how it prickled my skin. Without thinking it through I brought a hand up to caress it. He leaned into my touch, surprising me, halting my tracing fingers.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, pulling back slightly.

“Don’t be,” he implored, searching my eyes for a hint of wherever my mind might be. Poor guy.

“We really should be….” I couldn’t finish the thought, because I didn’t want to be thinking it.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Any way I can convince you to just take off with me? We’ll drive across the country, see the world, never look back?” I think he might have been serious.

“Hmm, not today. But maybe ask again later.” I kissed his cheek and quickly moved away, scooting to the back hatch, opening it before I changed my mind or before he could pull me back into him again. I said goodbye without walking him back. He didn’t care, but I knew how our town was and he had enough going on. He didn’t need people warning him to stay away from the weird witchy goth girl.

I spent my senior year of high school working in the basement kitchens of a nursing home. The building had been a rather notable manor in its heyday. Now people just came here to die. No air conditioning whatsoever in the brick basement and not really room for any fans to speak of either. I worked their third shift, 2pm to 10pm. By the time I’d get in, between the summer heat and the ovens’ heat the place was always broiling, triple digits every day. Management didn’t care. The job actually paid pretty well, and they’d always been flexible for me when Mom was still alive. I was grateful and had never really been one to complain in the first place.

Besides, I needed the money. In another month I’d be heading down to Georgia for college. Dad was doing okay with the bills, but not much else. Plus there was still Lucas to think about. Asking Dad for any kind of help might end up taking from him, and I wasn’t about to do that.

We’d grown apart in the last few years, not that we were ever really close. Something about me having to always take care of Mom. He couldn’t stomach the vomit or how frail she’d become. For some reason she seemed to blame me for that, too. It’s not like the reason matters. I was a child and none of that was my fault. Understanding why she hated me wouldn’t do me any good. I never asked for life, but she sure as shit should not have been the first person to make me wish I didn’t have it.

It started on a Friday night, a particularly nasty, humid, sweltering one. You could feel the storm rolling in, almost literally as the air pressed down upon your skin. I got home around 10:30 and hopped right in the shower. Working in an old folks’ home isn’t glorious, the kitchens are hit or miss whether they’re better or worse than the shit you can’t even imagine, but a hundred plus degrees for eight hours anywhere can leave you feeling inhuman.

Dad was down at the neighbor’s. He practically lived there anymore. That worked for me. They’d been buddies for a good decade before I came along, and I could only hope they were staying out of trouble. If nothing else, he wasn’t bringing trouble back here. I wouldn’t care if not for Lucas. Who happened to be spending the weekend at his friend’s. The house to myself, I didn’t mind walking from the bathroom back to my room barely wrapped in a towel. Normally I’d have grabbed my pajamas or at least a robe, but the heat was still terribly oppressive, and I didn’t plan on putting any of that on.

A little after 11pm and I was settling in to watch The Wizard of Oz. I loved that movie for what it was, but it was Judy Garland that kept me watching it time and again. That girl had lived through so much shit and still managed to convince the world there really was something on the other side of the rainbow. I mostly just used it as background noise while I worked on something else- knitting, drawing, embroidery. Even when I was reading. I couldn’t stand the quiet of the empty house. I was a night owl by nature and as I heard the storm finally arriving under the opening credits, I actually felt something akin to contentment.

Then something whacked my window. Scared the sense out of me. As a young girl I’d read this book all about sasquatch. It had been laid out like an information manual and I somehow managed to convince myself that my window, this window, was the perfect height for him to come in through. I didn’t still believe that, not really. But I was alone in the house, naked, with something, a sturdy something by the sounds of it, rapping at my window.

For a moment I was too chicken to look. I’d cracked it open to better hear the storm. I’d also pulled the curtain back, not thinking anything of being naked, living out in the middle of nowhere, with it being the middle of the fucking night, on a Friday!

“Luce, it’s me. I’m not looking… anymore. Can you, uh, let me in? It’s going to downpour any minute now.”

“Rory?!”

Believing that he really wasn’t looking, I jumped up and threw on my pajama shorts and t-shirt. I flung open my window and struggled with the screen for a bit just as it started to downpour. He slipped in with a good amount of fresh rain trickling off of him and onto my floor.

“Sorry about that.” He frowned at the puddles darkening my carpet.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Oh yeah! I’m fine. I just… I wanted to see you. Is that okay?”

“Um, yeah. That’s fine, I guess. I mean, yes, of course that’s okay! Let me go grab you a clean towel.”

“This is fine.” He grabbed the one I’d just been using and swiftly dried his arms, face, and hair before I could protest. His normally very red hair seemed to oddly be a couple shades darker. I chalked it up to the rain. Noticing him, his actions as he dried himself, I suddenly became very aware of not being properly dressed. Most notably the lack of restraint from any kind of bra. Until his voice roused me from my salacious thoughts. “I called the house number a few times, but it kept going to the machine. Do you have a cellphone?”

This was 2006 and I’d only recently gotten one. Still, the question rubbed me the wrong way.

“What would you be calling me for?” Defensively I crossed my arms in front of me, which only seemed to pointedly draw his attention to my breasts all the more. He looked away just as quickly though.

“Look Luce, you can’t come to my rescue one day and then just tell me to fuck off the next!” He seemed genuinely hurt. As for me- taken aback would be an understatement. I’d only helped him not blow up on his mom when he was already at his wit’s end. I certainly didn’t rescue him. “It’s fine. Once the storm dies down a bit I’ll go. Okay?”

“Or you could answer my question,” I shot back in that snide tone inherent in most people my age. He glared at me, not playfully. Not at first.

“I don’t know. Like I said, I wanted to see you, I guess. Gotta say, your room is and isn’t exactly what I expected.” I had a four poster bed with a white lace canopy from my childhood that I’d never bothered to rid myself of. Leafy green wallpaper that was mostly covered with bookshelves, a glass terrarium, one dresser with a tv on top of it, and exactly one poster. It was Albert Joseph Pénot’s, The Bat Woman, a somewhat erotic piece displaying a woman with very fair skin in a nude stance mid-air, her long dark hair flowing behind her, arms stretched above her, with bat wings, and a dark, cloudy sky behind her.

“That’s uh, quite the piece.” He gestured to the poster.

“What can I say. I like big bats and I cannot lie.”

“Did you really just—”

“Yes, yes I did.” And I was damn proud of it, too. Eighteen year olds are so stupid.

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he brought me in for a big bear hug, quickly kissing the side of my head. He then moved a little closer to the poster, apparently needing a better look.

“Huh, you kinda look like her.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you think? I mean okay, not the creepy eyes. You have nice eyes. But the body, skin, hair- I mean, it’s you. Your boobs are bigger though.”

“How would you know?”

“I, too, have eyes.” It was his turn to be funny, or at least try to be.

“Fair enough. For what it’s worth, I think yours are nice too. Your eyes! Whatever. You know what I meant. I’m also pretty sure I don’t have wings.”

“Oh? Well, maybe not yet. When’s the last time you checked?”

“Funny. Let me guess. You came all this way to… check for my wings? Give me a back rub while you’re at it?”

He half smiled at me before shaking his head. “It’s not like that, Luce. I really just wanted to see you.”

I still didn’t really believe him, but I also didn’t really care either. Rory had always been a sweetheart to me. And high school was over. If I was some kind of target or stupid game for him and his buddies, they were far nastier than I’d realized. That wasn’t him. Vigilance was a steady companion of mine, and my gut had been on high alert since before I could walk. I was wary in life because I wasn’t stupid, but I knew I didn’t need to worry with him.

And yes, those were the thoughts I had at that age. Always anxious that someone was trying to hurt me. That was my normal. On the rare occasion someone was being genuinely nice I’d sabotage it, being too paranoid about it, too sure it was a trap, too ready for the bottom to fall out. It wasn’t until nearly a decade later that I realized if you spend all your time looking for that bottom, you’ll end up tripping over something and falling either way.

“What is that?!” He was staring at the terrarium as my little familiar came out, tapping away along some new bark in its enclosure.

“Oh, that’s Greg. My pet giant African millipede.” Rory moved in closer to the terrarium to inspect Greg and I took a seat on my bed. It was weird having him here, in my room. A few years ago my mom would have been livid. When I finally did get a boyfriend, she worried and taunted me about birth control and joked about being happy that I wasn’t a lesbian. I still regret not telling her I was bi. Not like that conversation would have been much fun for anyone though.

“Greg, huh?” He turned and looked me up and down as I reclined against the wall my bed was pushed up against. “Luce, you really are one weird cookie.” He gestured to the space next to me on my bed and I nodded my consent.

“Too weird?” I asked nervously. I was always too much for everyone. Too weird, too brusque, too loud, too quiet, too fucking human.

“Nah. I like a good cookie.” I guess if I can like big bats, he can get away with comparing me to a good cookie. Our eyes met and the laughter confined within them burst out. It wasn’t too raucous, just a few, light, little chuckles. His laughs were so warm and gentle and easy. It made something deep inside me sing out.

When our gazes came back together, we just stared at one another. It felt like forever and all but a flash instantaneously. He leaned as I did. Our lips met and even in this summer heat I welcomed his warmth.

Then something… happened.

Something took hold between us. I’m not entirely sure how to describe it. To say I didn’t want it, didn’t want him, would be a lie. I very, very much did. But what unfolded, and how- it was as if I was no longer the one driving. Nor was I the vehicle. I was merely sitting in back, seeing, feeling, hearing everything. Experiencing everything. But entirely unable to change any of it, even if I’d wanted to. You’d think this would have frightened me, but it didn’t. Not with him.

My body moved to him with our kiss unbroken as he pulled me to him. Our bodies moving together in unison, as if this were some kind of choreography we puppets had merely stumbled into, strings being played as our transcendence saw fit. Straddling him as I had weeks ago, pushing him down on the bed, my arousal was familiarly reflexive having him underneath me. His tongue and mine exploring one another only added to the heat, as did our moans and mewls, our groans and grunts.

Breaking our kiss for the first time, sitting up atop him, I slowly pulled my shirt off. After he enjoyed the view, his grip steadied on my hips as he sat up, repositioning us both. Taking another deep kiss as he briefly palmed both my breasts, running his thumbs over my taut nipples. He then held me where he wanted me, a strong hand gripping the nape of my neck as he pressed his forehead to mine, rubbing against me, almost as if he was impressing a kind of deep, innate intimacy that was, in a word, impossible.

The storm continued to rage outside, lightning and thunder tightly chasing one another with a natural euphony of rain to serenade them, and us. While I was reveling in the experience of it all, but still not driving, I hadn’t questioned the controlling phenomena itself. I had, however, wondered if Rory was in control of himself, or responsible for this entire thing. When he spent only an adequate time on my breasts, I was fairly certain he was not. I felt yet another solidarity with him in this bizarreness we were experiencing. It made me feel all the closer to him.

Again moving as one, we stood together. He pulled his shirt off as my hands ran over his chest, abs and waist, fingers dipping into his shorts. Without hesitation he kneeled before me, pulling my pajama shorts down in one effortless motion, and eagerly buried himself in me. I was surprised, but my body wasn’t. Whatever was driving this circus knew this was going to happen. I was already lewdly wet. Another odd thing. If something had taken us over for the sake of having us fuck, I would think it would do it as quickly and efficiently as possible. This was enjoyable, languid, fucking amazing.

Still standing, he brought me to a climax with a combination of his skilled tongue and energetic fingers. My legs nearly gave out from the pleasure, and here too, he had me. Holding me up, he supported me against him as I grabbed at his dark red hair, grasping him where I could while moaning through my guttural orgasm. I wasn’t all that experienced. My previous, first and only, boyfriend had never made me cum. Someone else doing it for me… I could have cried.

He stood and helped me steady myself. Then it was my turn, or his. It depends on how you look at it. I knelt before him. But instead of pulling his shorts down, I rubbed his throbbing cock through the material, luxuriating in the groans I was pulling from deep within him. His hand found purchase in my hair, and I stopped my little game.

Pulling his shorts down, I stood, grazing his cock with my hand, and moved him back to the bed. Given our height difference, this only made sense. Though I could see some experimentation in our future. Positioning myself between his legs, I worshipped his cock. Reverently twirling my tongue around his cockhead, sucking up his precum before slowly working my way down, taking more and more and more of him. Whatever had taken hold was certainly more skilled than I, so I sure as hell was taking notes.

“Lucia….” His voice was gravelly and desperate. Part of me wanted to tell him off for using my name like that. Part of me loved it. I adored how it sounded when he said it, especially when he said it like that.

Slowly I worked myself off of his cock so I could slide back on top of him. Positioning him underneath me, I moved my hips back and forth gently, my lips sliding along his entire length, both of us reveling in one another’s warmth, strength, tenderness.

Another harsh thunder crash outside, and the power went out. It didn’t halt us or even slow our momentum. I came down to kiss him, and for another forever and a flash our bare bodies fed one another all the kindness and compassion our worlds hadn’t seen fit to give us. In that moment we became one another’s comfort, surrounded by the dark.

Angling my hips and lips just so, I caught the end of his cock. He groaned at the contact and took his cue, pushing slightly, piercing his way into me. For just a moment I moved back and forth, taking only an inch or so of him. I could feel him underneath me, feel how wild I was driving him. When it was clear he was about to do something about it, his fingers pleading, digging into me deeper and deeper, more and more frantic- I plunged myself down onto him completely in one fell, fluid motion.

Sensual pain and agonizing pleasure together, melding into one another. For a moment I couldn’t move, and he didn’t dare. I’d hit my cervix quite hard with his cock, another first for me and it’d momentarily laid me flat both literally and figuratively. Whether or not he could tell, I wasn’t sure. He’d also stretched me out quite a good deal more than I’d ever experienced before. But the Rory I knew was cocky enough as it was, there was no way I was going to say anything to that effect aloud.

We laid there for a spell as I gasped my pain out into his shoulder. His hands were running slowly and firmly over my body, his cock twitching inside me. Gradually I began grinding my hips on his length, careful not to be as foolishly forceful as I had a moment ago. This was another thing that confused me about whatever was puppeteering us. Did it not know what it was getting us into? For a passing second I wondered if it was showing us the parameters of, well, us. Perhaps it knew something about us that we were yet to know. Even in that first moment of surprised pain, I wasn’t entirely sure that I didn’t like it.

In that darkened room, with my body no longer under my control, my mind was filled with bliss as my hips moved back and forth, using his cock to stimulate all the right places. His hands held onto me as I worked myself on him. I could feel myself getting close. My hands fell on his chest as I ground myself into him, faster and more precise. His groans as he restrained himself, allowing me my pleasure as he relished in my indulgence, sent me over the edge.

I called out his name as my body began to cum. “Arthur!” It wasn’t a name that I’d ever used before. I knew he didn’t usually like it, but it felt beyond right in that moment.

My muscles were contracting, my walls and lips pulsating as waves of pleasure shivered through me. Sweaty, panting, I collapsed on his chest as my pussy continued grasping his aching cock. Without another word his arms wrapped tightly around me, and he started thrusting wildly up into me. Before my own aftershocks had calmed he’d filled me, coated my walls with his cum as he called out my name, holding my body flush to his.

By the time I felt his last spurt of semen shooting inside me, I was back in control of myself. Given the way his body had froze up underneath me at about the same time, it seemed true for Rory as well.

“Rory?” The apprehension in my voice betrayed how I actually felt, but I didn’t know how to convey that to him, not just then.

“Yeah?” He seemed uneasy, and possibly disappointed. In what though, I didn’t know how to ask.

“You… you, um, I mean….” I couldn’t make myself ask what I already knew to be true. His cum was slowly dripping out of me around his softened cock as he still held me firmly to him. An especially spirited twitch of his shaft dislodged enough semen that I felt compelled to deal with it sooner rather than later. I pushed off of him, pressing away from him slightly. He let me go listlessly, and again I wasn’t sure what to make of it, or him.

Stumbling around my room in the dark, I lit a couple candles I kept about and rarely used. By the time I’d managed that, his cum was a fair ways down my thighs.

“I’ll be right back,” I murmured as I grabbed my gray robe and a candle and headed to the bathroom. I wondered if he’d take off while I was gone. It wouldn’t surprise me, but maybe I shouldn’t be so shitty to myself all the time.

Cleaned up, my robe securely wrapped around myself, I grabbed some tissues and headed back. He’d dressed already and was sitting up with his back against the wall again. I felt so… guilty.

“Lucia, I—”

“Don’t call me that!” I was on edge, but immediately felt awful for snapping at him.

“Luce- fuck, sorry. Look, I am so sorry! I never thought that would happen between us. Okay, not never, but the chances of… well, are you okay?”

“I’d be more okay if you could tell me what that was. And if you weren’t sorry it happened.” His regret had cut deeply, but I wasn’t entirely sure why.

“I don’t mean sorry like that! As for explaining it- I wish I could.” He stared off at my ceiling, looking far too aggrieved for someone who’d just cum as hard as he had, even in the candlelight. I listened to my gut, because what did I have to lose, really? I knew I was leaving in a month. Knew not to get anymore attached than I already was. Of course, knowing is one thing. And when you’re that young, you know you can do these impossible things.

Hopping up on the bed beside him, I put an arm around him and curled up against him, placing my head on his shoulder. Again his whole body froze up. Only for a moment this time before he wrapped an arm around me. Sighing, both of us relaxed into one another. I decided to broach the topic of the elephant creeping around my small room.

“That was kind of crazy, huh?”

“Crazy bad?” His voice was timid and unsure.

“No. I like crazy. And you. Whatever that was, it was amazing.”

“Yeah, it really was.” He kissed my forehead, and I squeezed him tightly, stretching myself up to kiss his neck. I was a little wary, unsure if I was signing up to be another puppet or not, but again I kissed him. This time I stayed me, and after a few minutes of making out, his hands again in my hair, I grew daring enough to grab his cock through his shorts. His groan, truly his own this time, was much more guttural and sent a tingle through my body.

After a couple more groans like that I couldn’t take it anymore. Slipping my hand inside his shorts, grabbing his cock, his groan crescendoed as he threw his head back, abruptly hitting it against my wall. Realizing that wasn’t the best angle, I moved up onto my knees as he hurriedly shimmied his shorts back down, desperately trying to kick them off his ankles.

I loved the way he felt against my tongue, and the way his musk smelled the further I moved down, and how our fluids tasted together… each sensation was uniquely inspiring. “Fuck, Lucia! That feels so good!” His voice wasn’t quite the same, but I still liked how my name sounded when he said it. His right hand was entangled in my hair as he helped to… encourage my progress- I wasn’t able to take as much of him as I had earlier, but I had an awful lot of fun trying.

His left hand was rubbing my ass, trying to pull my robe up, eager to get back to my flesh. I could have helped him, but I found his efforts adorable and enticing. Especially when I tried extra hard to take even more of him, distracting him from said efforts.

When he’d had enough, of one thing or another, he pulled me to him and kissed me deeply. He tried to replicate the unbroken kiss from earlier, and was mostly successful, only stumbling here and there as we awkwardly lusted for one another as ourselves. Truly ourselves, because while my robe was still tied about me, he pulled the material aside and really savored my breasts. Palming, grasping, licking, sucking, nibbling, worshipping. I swear he almost made me cum from that alone!

I ended up having to pull him to me, calling his name again, “Arthur…” as I wrapped my legs around him, ready for him, pulling him to me, needing him. The storm outside had died down, leaving us with the kind of heavy humidity that generally encourages grouchiness. Right now all it was encouraging was an extra layer of sweat as we fucked, my back arching as his cock filled me, my body having grown more accustomed and needful of him already.

His breathing started to grow ragged, his thrusts more erratic, inconsistent.

“Is it… is it okay for me… to cum inside you? I know earlier, but—”

“Yes! I’m… fuck that feels amazing! I’m good, Arthur.” I was barely keeping it together, but I was good. He abruptly moved up, giving himself room to find my clit. I yipped, bucking my hips and trying in vain to get away from the electric sensation. Grabbing for his hand, I managed to scream, “It’s too sensitive!” between my own heavy breaths.

“Alright!” His smile in that moment filled my heart and ignited my world. His eyes were wild with life and adventure. I couldn’t look away. It scared me though. I felt like I was walking on the freshly sharpened blade of a precariously fragile knife. I already knew it then. I wanted him too much.

Crashing back down to me, kissing me single-mindedly he temporarily stopped his thrusts. I began moving my hips from underneath him as much as I could. A primal groan reverberated from his chest as he started bucking himself into me uncontrollably. Again he called out my name as he came deep inside of me, holding me fiercely.

Our first time had been, in a word, perfect. That second time had been messy and chaotic and I’d enjoyed it all the more for its perceived flaws.

He grabbed the tissues I’d brought for him earlier and began to clean me up. Mark that as yet another first for me. The only other guy I’d been with had basically treated me like a cum dumpster, if you’ll pardon the vulgarity, albeit an accurate one. It was not lost on me that I was basically playing that role again for Rory, but he was different. He was sweet about it and wanted me to enjoy it at least as much as he was.

The power was still out when he nakedly jumped, almost literally, back into my bed beside me. He laid back and stared up at the ceiling, letting out a huge sigh of contentment. “Happy?” I asked playfully.

“You really have no idea,” he whispered serenely.

“Now who’s being weird,” I teased. He exhaled a laugh as he pulled me to him, kissing the top of my head.

“Can I come back tomorrow night? Not for this. I mean, this is nice, right? But I’d like to just spend some time with you while I can. If you’ll have me?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice. This was nice, too. I’m not against both, just so you know.” I wasn’t sure what had gotten into me, besides him. Any boldness that might have come naturally had long ago been beaten out of me. But with him? With him I felt able to feel again.

For the next two weeks, every night around 11pm he’d knock on my window. We’d spend time talking, sharing our hopes and fears and dreams. We laughed and cried and fucked. He’d always leave after a few hours though. It just worked out better for both of us that way.

Dad figured out pretty quickly that I had a visitor. Not that I was exactly hiding it. I was eighteen after all and about to head out on my own. Besides, after Mom died he didn’t deny my brother or me anything. He became absent in a way that made me hate him. I think he knew that. Maybe that’s why he started making himself scarce more often than not. And Lucas practically lived at his best friend’s since Dad never told him no.

It was nice, being able to allow my emotions and my moans so freely. And to likewise hear Arthur’s.

That time was so full of joy and bliss and love, and yes, at times grief. But it made me nearly forget that first time, well, the lack of control anyway. Nothing else bizarre like that happened again. Not with him. But then on my way home one night, out of nowhere someone ran into me.

I would have sworn for all the world there hadn’t been anyone else on the road. The other driver must have had their headlights off, it was the only explanation. It wasn’t really all that forceful, but it still scared the shit out of me. I pulled over, and they followed suit, at first. Their lights were on now and I could tell it was some kind of muscle car. In the dark of the night it looked black, like most everything else.

In my rearview mirror I could see that it was a woman. She held my gaze in the mirror, and in the dark of the night she was wearing these oversized, gaudy sunglasses. It was no wonder she’d ran into me! She started backing her vehicle up, further and further. I was starting to wonder if she was going to sneakily keep backing away until she simply disappeared.

Then her headlights switched off. The road was a long straightaway out in the country. There were a couple miles to go yet before she could simply disappear. Honestly I was at a loss about what to do. I knew not to get out of my car, but that was about it. My heart was beating against my chest, almost painfully so. The initial jarring shock of being propelled and rattled out of nowhere still hadn’t worn off. I kept forcing myself to take deep breaths, desperately trying to calm down.

I decided to drive home. Better than just sitting in the dark, and I hadn’t heard anything fall off after all. Just as I turned my car on, her headlights flicked back on. But they weren’t on the road. They were above it shining down and towards me. At least ten yards above and back from where I was. I know it was nearly pitch black, but I swear it was clear given the angle of the shining lights and how her muscle car roared down to me. It all happened impossibly fast; I didn’t even have time to respond. By the time I’d put my own car in drive she was sidling up alongside me.

All I could do was stare over at her in horror as she leered at me from over her lowered sunglasses, revealing a blue fire where her eyes should have been. When she was far enough in front of me that she couldn’t maintain that fiery stare, she roared her nightmarish chariot into gear, disappearing into the night.

I don’t remember driving home.

He was waiting for me when I got there. I still hadn’t given him my cell phone number and was yet to get his. It had become a little game between us, but that was going to change. My whole body was still shaking when I came through my bedroom door. He was a gentle medley of annoyed and indignant, until he saw me.

“Lucia, what happened?” His voice was tinted with nervous concern.

“Some crazy lady rear ended me. I… I think I’m fine. But she, her eyes were. I don’t know.” I didn’t dare tell him just then. “She just took off, glaring at me.”

“You didn’t call the police?” He was already calling someone himself.

“The car looks fine. It just, I don’t know! It was weird. Bad weird. And creepy.”

His face paled as he hung up on whoever he’d just called. “What happened? I don’t care how crazy you sound, Lucia. I’ll believe you. Now tell me exactly what happened.”

I believed him. And so I told him. Knowing he probably would think me crazy, I told him every detail. He had me sit down, saying something about needing to make some calls. A minute later he was back with a glass of water and tried wrapping one of my blankets around me.

“No, I’m still all gross from work,” I absentmindedly objected.

He grumbled in a language of frustration I wasn’t used to hearing from him. Looking up at him, somewhat nervously, his demeanor softened instantly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up then.” I cocked my head at him but didn’t resist when he pulled me towards the bathroom.

If his plan was to distract me to get me to calm down- it worked.

No one else was home, like usual, but he still locked the door behind us. All of his movements were slow and purposeful. He turned the shower on before coming back to me, getting the bathroom steamy before we made it steamier. He put both his hands on either side of my face, holding me gently. Then he kissed me, and kissed me, and kissed me.

I was nearly dizzy by the time he started to undress me, slowly pulling layers off, refusing to let me help. He moved to stand behind me, taking my bra off and spending a few minutes caringly massaging where the straps had pressed into and indented my skin. Ample breasts can wear on you after having to constrain them all day, especially after an entire sweaty shift in the grueling summer heat.

He unbuttoned my pants from behind me, slowly unzipping them and peeling them down. Kneeling behind me, he kissed the back of my legs as he uncovered them. The whole thing made me weak in the knees. I felt so much better already. He stood back up, his fingers tracing my legs and hips as he did so, coming to stand before me again.

When I tried to take my undies off, he caught my hands, stopping me. “I get to do that,” he reprimanded, “when I’m ready, of course.” Looking up at him and his darkened, wolf-like eyes, I could feel that familiar tingle in my pussy and my hardening nipples. I would have given anything for him to be ready, already! Again he slipped behind me, slipping his fingers into the scant, satiny fabric to find my silk-like folds. He groaned about as much as I did when he found my warmth and wetness. He felt so good, I really couldn’t wait for him to be ready.

As I focused on that thought his hand swiftly retreated as he grabbed the material on both sides of my hips and yanked them down, making me gasp, and leaving me entirely nude. He slid the shower door back for me and told me to go ahead. “I’ll be in as soon as I catch up.”

It took him too long to catch up. I don’t know what he was doing, but the hot water felt too good for me to be terribly upset about it. When the wait started to become untenable I grabbed my shampoo bottle, only hearing the shower door once he was closing it.

“Nope,” he said as he took the bottle out of my hand. “That’s my job tonight too, among a few others.” He turned me around and washed my obnoxiously long hair for me. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done that for me. It felt luxurious and lavish and for whatever reason made me desperately want to suck his cock. When I tried to, he kissed me and told me tonight was about me. That I would get him another time.

I wasn’t sure when that could be. We only had another week before I was leaving. I’d been trying not to think about that though. I’d fallen for him hard, as much as I knew I shouldn’t have. He finished washing my hair, conditioner and all, and soaped me up, slowly getting all the good, hard to reach places. He kept working me up, but never letting me cum.

“You’re being mean,” I grumbled into his ear as he pretended to continue washing my back, his hard cock bumping my stomach.

“What do you mean?” He genuinely seemed perplexed. His reaction honestly took me aback.

“I like making you happy! And I like how you feel on my tongue and lips. But you’re not letting me because why? Do you think I don’t enjoy it? Don’t want to do it? And besides, you’re teasing me. Getting me close and then… not!”

“I….” Without another word he picked me up, my legs moved instinctively around his waist and my arms wrapped around his neck as he guided himself into my pussy. One hand on my ass, he placed the other on the shower wall, using it as leverage as he bounced me up and down on his throbbing cock. I wanted more of him and leaned back, my shoulders now bumping against the wall. He pressed into me and grabbed my legs, hooking them over his arms as he took hold of me just above the knees and started pounding into me.

I was already so worked up. Within a minute I was cumming, my legs shaking uncontrollably as he firmly held them. My pussy was grabbing his cock as he continued his thrusts. Maybe it was the shower, the sounds, the sensations, or maybe it was the buildup- I don’t know. But as his thrusts became frenzied, as he was just about to cum, he grabbed onto me harder than ever before, pressing his forehead to mine as our eyes met in that weird blurriness that comes with being too close. He growled as he came, groaning out to me, “You’re mine, Lucia. Mine!”

I came again hearing his words.

He stayed over that night, and every night after. Nothing else strange happened that summer. I did have one weird dream. Rory was talking with Greg, my pet giant African millipede. In my dream I’d woken up and found them. Rory sitting in my desk chair, Greg on the desk, unfurled and attentive as he readily received spitfire commands. I asked them what they were doing. Rory came over to me and tucked me back in, telling me to sleep and not worry. Greg would take care of me. Funny thing that, but it made sense in the way that dreams sometimes can. Greg was one of the few things that would be coming along with me from my old life. Dreaming about him being my protector only made sense. It even made sense to me that Rory would be in on it. After all, he asked me the same night as the amazing shower sex if I was taking Greg with me when I left.

Vargr Biotech, Rory’s family company, was actually funding my education. They sponsored several scholarships for local kids that were going into a science field. I was headed to Georgia, partly to get away from, well, a lot. I was majoring in biology with dual minors in applied biotech and mycology. Rory was going to our hometown’s nearby state college, undeclared. That hadn’t been the plan before his dad got sick, but apparently his family or the company wanted him nearby. It didn’t make an awful lot of sense to me, but Rory always got a little defensive when I asked him anything about his family. Nothing too obvious. Nothing most people would even notice, just little tics really. Maybe that’s why he liked me. I knew when to leave him alone.

That last day though, I don’t how he didn’t hate me. I was all packed but certainly not ready to go. He saw me off, being his usual stoic self. Definitely his family’s influence. He was on edge about something though, and I think I was bothering him. Neither one of us was in terribly stellar shape that day. I didn’t know how to say goodbye to him. I was a fucking mess and not entirely sure if I would even make it out of the state. What was I supposed to do? You don’t start relationships right before going off to college, you end them! When I finally told him that’s what was bothering me, he half-smiled and shook his head, as though he found something funny about it all.

“This isn’t the end. You know that, right?” Annoyingly optimistic, stupid Rory and his handsome red hair and rugged good looks. Fuck. He just seemed so sure of it though.

It hurt leaving and being away from him. For a time the novelty of college helped. But about a month after classes started, I started to really hurt. My chest burned thinking about him, and us. The thought of not seeing him again, not feeling him again, not kissing him again…. The pain didn’t go away, it only became more and more unbearable.

He texted a handful of times, but it only made it worse. The hurt would flare up, digging in and ripping me up. Destroying me time after time. I couldn’t take it. And I couldn’t take going through it again and again. So I blocked his number. When he started calling from other numbers I told him point blank to stop and that I couldn’t take it. He tried to tell me I didn’t understand and that I just needed to listen to him. But what was there to say? That he wanted to see me when I came home, for what? Winter break?

I didn’t plan on going home. Ever.

Relentlessly he kept reaching out, sending flowers, gifts, letters. Even his mother started calling me. One night it was all simply too much.

He texted from a different number:

Lucia, please, take off with me. We’ll drive across the country, see the world, and we’ll never look back.

That caused a bit of a breakdown. I slowly crumpled to the floor of my dorm, mumbling to myself, asking why this pain in my chest wouldn’t stop? Maybe it sounds extreme, but it was absolutely excruciating. I didn’t understand it and I was dying for it to go away. I laid sobbing on that floor for hours, until I heard Greg tapping on the glass of his terrarium with a few of his digits. For whatever reason that roused me from my pain. Not much, but enough that I crawled into bed and passed out.

Rory didn’t reach out again after that. Even when I did go home the summer after I graduated. Nothing. He’d actually made himself scarce. I was honestly kinda surprised he was allowed to. I’d only gone home for the banquet his family’s company put on for the graduates of their scholarship program. By no means mandatory, but I very much wanted to work in their Washington branch, and I knew the woman running that place would be there. Rory should have been there. I’d mentally prepared myself for it. And then… nothing.

I’d thrown myself into my studies while at college. That had mostly helped. When I got to Washington though, that something missing started to push its way into the forefront of my mind more and more forcefully. I hadn’t even thought about dating since that summer with Rory. That pain turned me off of it altogether. Not having to fuck around gave me a lot more time to study and work. Besides, whenever the mood would strike, I’d just take care of myself, and those feelings would usually subside.

There were the rare occurrences when they hadn’t, and I was quickly reminded why I wasn’t bothering. They all seemed so… thin. As partners, they weren’t substantial. Always so shallow and constantly coming up wanting.

I know they say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. I eventually tried really giving that a go. But I was stupid about it. I was co-running a lab at the Washington branch and when my partner made a move on me, I let him. Then I kept letting him. He was good, hit all the right buttons physically, but we still didn’t click like it had when I was younger. Chalking that up to puppy love or possibly the simple idiocy of youth, I assumed true love was only ever imagined. My inaction against our casual fucking slowly crept us into a relationship. Which in turn became a marriage.

By no means was he a bad match. Clever, witty, well read, not terrible looking, but he was always so worried about other peoples’ opinions of him. He so desperately needed to check off boxes of the full human experience that he never really lived in any of the moments he’d worked so hard to get to. Everything was a chore, a thing to do, and once completed it was merely onto the next thing. No savoring, no existing, no simply being. As a scientist I see the obstacles, in my work and in my life, as not only a part of the experience, but as THE experience. Apparently he didn’t enjoy coming along for the ride with me.

We were running our own section of the branch. There were about a dozen people under us and given our success, they were expanding our department. Private industry can be a marvel at times, when it comes to research anyway. I saw it as a blessing when they gave us an office assistant/secretary/whatever they were calling them. I could finally get back into my damn lab. I think she preferred the title office manager. The label never mattered to me, as long as she fulfilled the duties of the job. Same thing went for my husband, really.

We weren’t perfect. We had our moments of course. I think at some point I must have loved him. I did marry him after all. He certainly loved me, at one point. Kids were something we both wanted and tried for fairly early on. In fact, we tried everything- IVF, IUI, donor eggs, all the drugs I felt would be effective. But after about five years of going through all of that, I was finally able to bless him with a quick divorce. It was the only option after he brought our secretary home, pregnant. Whatever he was expecting of me, it just wasn’t for me.

Neither was working in the Washington branch anymore, even though that was the only one focusing on my specialty- bioremediating fungi. I put in my resignation then took two weeks off with my accrued sick time. I would have lost it anyway. Fuck ’em. Right?

At least that’s where my head was at. Until the Vargr Corporation sent me an offer to open my own plastics bioremediation lab. The catch? It would be at their branch back home. The branch where he worked, overseeing everything. I wasn’t entirely sure how he could have known about any of this- my cheating husband, the overachieving office manager, my sudden lack of a job. Not that it really surprised me. His family always knew everything.

I wanted to turn it down. I started out to several times, but… something always stopped me. I don’t know, I just couldn’t. It was an idiotic, juvenile reason to not take my dream job. Really, I was going to turn that down because of an old fling? No. I took the job. And asked for fifteen percent more than what was offered. They didn’t even blink. I should have asked for twenty.

So back I went. With precious little more than what I left with. Greg, some clothes, a few pieces of sentimental crap, books, and that was about it. Certainly not my pride, I wasn’t sure where I’d left that or when.

Setting up my very own lab was exhilarating. A literal dream come true. I’d be studying a few particular strains of fungi that degrade and absorb plastic, and I needed specialized equipment. Honestly, the proximity to a glass engineering tech company worked out well.

He seemed to be keeping his distance still, for whatever reason. But I did end up running into him once in a while. His right hand oversaw all the accounts and whenever she needed a physical signature she’d track me down. Sometimes she’d spot me while they were out and about and flag me down. It’d be more accurate to say she told me to stop walking away, and I would. I’d look anywhere but at him, all the while feeling his eyes on me.

Once, early on, I was in a particularly bad mood when he couldn’t keep his eyes to himself. I should have known to keep my mouth shut. But I didn’t. So I snapped at him. And regretted it. His once brilliant red hair was now jet black. I knew it was getting darker back then, I figured it was an age thing. But to be this dark? He had to be dying it to look more, I’m not sure, professional? He was the boss, by birth and by merit, at least from what I’d heard recently. What on earth did it matter?! For what it’s worth, I knew he was a natural red head, or had known. And not just from his messy mane or scraggly beard.

“What happened to your hair, Arthur? Did your fire go out?”

“No, it just never texted me back,” he barked back at me.

My eyes trembled at his words. I literally bit my tongue to keep myself from crying. After enduring my mother, emotions had never been something I really had to work to control, not outside of him anyway. We’d barely spent a month together, and yet, he still had this draw to him, this pull over me. I hated it. I wanted to hate him.

The look he gave me when he saw my quivering eyes…. I didn’t know what to think, or feel.

I did know I wasn’t being paid to think about that. My most recent issue with my ongoing work was whether or not my more aggressive strains would attack biomatter. How certain of an answer I could demonstrate could help determine which strain might be most viable to continue working with. The most readily available biomatter were the flowers the company decorated the offices with. All pristinely white- roses, anemones, ranunculi, night-blooming jasmine. The flowers would vary, but not the color.

Ash (his right hand) was doing her weekly rounds for signatures when she caught me grabbing the flowers out of their vase. Thinking she’d chastise me for destroying company décor, I became slightly defensive.

“What are you doing with those?” she asked slowly, reproachfully, and somehow apprehensively.

“I need them. It’s this or spending more time and money on biomatter. What do you care?!” I snapped.

“Woah! I don’t care. I’m curious and it’s weird you’re taking those flowers to, what? Feed to your mushrooms?”

“To see if they’ll feed on them, yes. And it’s not weird! Don’t you know where you work?” She was the least nerdy person around. I wasn’t sure what she was doing here really. And her closeness with Rory got under my skin. (Not that I was fully open to admitting that one, even to myself.)

“Does Rory know you’re reallocating resources like that?”

“Does he need to?” I asked somewhat nervously. Her eyes lit up and I had a moment of panic, knowing I was in trouble.

“No. Again, just curious,” she managed to spit out before practically skipping away, excited and giggling like the fucking idiot she was.

Something was very odd about that entire interaction. And a few hours later I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I went to the lab over from mine to ask if there was anything sacred about the office décor or if I’d made some kind of faux pas. The guy running the lab next to mine was nice enough, but a bit eccentric. More of us were than not though, if I’m being honest. But he had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. He’d never once had flowers appointed to his office for décor or any other reason.

Thinking it was possibly gender-based, but also fairly sure that wasn’t the case, I went over to one of the other labs being run and managed by a woman. She also had absolutely no idea what I was talking about, but suggested I stop using them in the lab. Apparently Ash wasn’t just his right hand when it came to work stuff. If she found something humorous about me using the flowers, he’d likely already know, and it probably wasn’t good.

I didn’t bother asking what she meant by that. Though I did appreciate her insight. No point in giving the impression that there was anything between me and the head of the company. The fact was that there wasn’t, not anymore.

Still, the flowers kept bothering me. There was always a new bouquet every Monday morning when I got in. Naturally, I made a plan- I’d come in on Sunday, which wasn’t exactly unusual of me, and camp out. If I was the only one getting these gorgeous flowers, I wanted to know what company was delivering them. More likely than not I could trace back whoever was purchasing them.

Obviously I assumed it was Rory. But I wanted to know if he was doing it publicly through the company or if he’d ordered them privately. I knew Ash didn’t deliver them, she never showed up before noon- ever. Amusingly I had a brief flutter in my chest thinking about Rory delivering them. Yeah, the man in charge of a multi-million dollar biotech corporation taking the time to deliver flowers to an old fling. What a ridiculous notion. Besides, I’d really been more of a dirty secret. That was something I tried convincing myself of whenever I wanted to hate him.

My office was fairly spacious. We’d have meetings in there whenever my handful of underlings needed to be caught up with this or that or for celebratory events, birthdays and whatnot. The lab had only really been up and running for about four months at this point. I was yet to accumulate everyone’s personal life data, but when I knew of a special occasion, I made sure it was celebrated.

There was a long, hardwood table with several eco-friendly chairs. I’d appointed the space with photos of heavy mists and fogs nestled in among serene forest landscapes. There was something about the greenery of the pines, first morning’s light, and heavy, draping clouds kissing the earth. They relaxed me. That part of my office was off to one side, the other side had my desk and chair, bookshelves, and a sofa that I’d use for little cat naps when my brain would get tired. Or when I’d end up staying in the lab until three in the morning and didn’t want to spend the time going home just to turn back around.

Sunday I spent a fitful night on my sofa. My old nightmares wouldn’t let me be. The ones that reminded me that Greg was really the only living thing that ever expected any care from me. That he was the only living thing that had really given me any care for so, so long.

The motion sensor lights in the outer part of my lab kicked on around 5am. I’d turned the motion sensor lights off inside my office when I first started here. The damn things would always turn off while I was working, not moving enough to set them off. Now the intrusive outer lights roused me to groggily sneak under my desk. The flowers had always been placed on top of it, only for me to move them to the meeting table where they were out of my way.

I couldn’t believe it, but a part of me must have known. If I hadn’t heard him quietly singing under his breath I wouldn’t have known for sure, and it would have been a bit of a surprise for both of us. He was wearing workout clothes, long black joggers and a tight black shirt. Of course he was, he’d drop the flowers off and go use the company’s gym. Why else would he be up at this ungodly hour?! Some things never change.

I jumped out, surprising him, “AHA! It is you!” I was jubilant at having caught him, not really thinking about the implications of what that meant. Not at first, anyway. “Why are you doing this, Rory?” He stammered for a bit before his cheeks and ears started to turn red. Putting the flowers down, white hydrangeas, tulips, and night-blooming jasmine, he shook his head as he looked away from me.

“You deserve flowers. I… want you to have them.”

“Why? Why would you think that? Want that? What could I possibly mean to you?”

“Lucia, come on!” He finally looked at me again. Moving around my desk to me, he stopped just in front of me, his entire being urgent, pleading. “I know you feel it too, don’t—”

I quickly placed my hands on either side of his face, pulling him to me as I stretched up to kiss him. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but in that moment all I wanted was him. And I knew he felt the same way. It wasn’t just his words, there was something more, something… intrinsic.

My shoes were still off from when I’d laid down and I was now reminded about just how much taller than me he was. For a moment I was mortified. He wasn’t kissing back, and it scared me. Worried I’d misread, well, everything, I began to back off. Letting him go, retracting my fingers from his hair, lowering myself back down, I could feel that old familiar agony piercing into my heart.

Before my feet were flat on the ground his arms had wrapped around me, pulling me to him. He kissed me like he had that summer so many years ago when we were teenagers. My chest still ached, but there was also joy and delight and euphoria.

Nearly all of the offices had mostly window walls, with that glass being one-way. No one else was in yet, but even if they were they mercifully couldn’t see us. We were acting like teenagers all over again. Unable to keep our hands to ourselves, hearts racing, bodies reacting. When I felt his hard cock press against me through our clothes my body gave a little tremble. He broke our kiss then, his eyes wild and crazy as he took in all my lusty, flushed glory. I’d barely moved on from my goth girl phase and still very much disliked the bright sun. So I kept away from it, preserving my alabaster skin and preventing any sun bleaching of my dark hair.

My fair complexion was now tinted ruddy all over. I could feel the heat of it, exposing my intense desire. Given how much I wanted him, how much I could feel my body needing him, how wet I already was- my mound and lips were likely even redder. He’d found that fascinating one night all those years ago as we languidly rested in my childhood bedroom. The summer heat had lingered into the night and while that hadn’t stopped us from fucking, it had stopped us from putting any kind of clothes back on or covering up whatsoever. Resting between my legs, he stared, admiring and tracing my lips, labia, occasionally dipping in further, everywhere his fingers would reach, enchanted by the red hue from my arousal and use.

Rory’s eyes darted between my desk and my sofa. I knew what he was thinking, I’d been daydreaming about it since I got here. I also knew I liked my desk the way it was, without imprints of my ass all over my papers. Grabbing his shirt I made it clear I wanted it off. He obliged and I grabbed hold of his sides. Tugging him along as I moved backwards, kissing his chest and only stopping when I bumped into the sofa and stumbled back onto my ass.

As he kicked off his sneakers, distracted for all of three seconds, I grabbed the front of his sweats and boxers together and tugged them down. As his throbbing dick bobbed in front of me I grabbed hold, eliciting a deep, rumbling groan from the man I was afraid to love. His noises sent a ripple of pure ecstasy through me. When I looked up, he was staring down at me, his countenance dark and dangerous and desirous. Holding his gaze I moved my lips to the tip of his cock and began my worship.

Holding his balls in one hand, massaging them gently, I began twirling my tongue around the girth of his head. Slowly I worked myself further and further down his cock, my tongue sliding over every throbbing vein, exploring once familiar ridges, savoring a scent I’d hadn’t realized I’d missed as I took as much of him as I could on my own. More and more of those deep grumbling moans came from him as he tenderly grabbed my hair. I was okay with tender, but I wanted rough. I wanted to feel how much he wanted me, how much he’d missed me, how much he needed to fuck me. As if he read my mind, he abruptly took a firmer hold and began face fucking me.

With him pushing I was able to take more of him than I ever had before. I worked to keep my gag reflex down, making my eyes water as I still held his gaze. While lustful tears ran down my cheeks he whispered, “Fuck, Lucia,” right before he threw his head back, grunting and groaning. Holding me tightly down on his cock, I felt him firm up just before he emptied his load into my throat. Despite my efforts my gag reflex really kicked in and as I coughed and sputtered he looked back at me, directly into my watery eyes as I held myself onto him, needing him to drain himself into me.

Finished, he slowly let go of my hair, tracing his fingers through it gently, caressing my head and face. He kneeled in front of me, spreading my knees to bring himself closer to me as his chest slowly rose and fell with his heavy breaths. His fingers seemed somewhat shaky as he reached out to unbutton my blouse. He watched what he was doing, and so I watched him, my own hands running up and down and across his chest and neck. I couldn’t believe how much I’d missed him. I knew it but having him under my touch again felt surreal.

Geisel once said, “You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.” Well, if this was a dream I’d be damned if I was ever going to wake up again.

A small, but exasperated sigh escaped him as he saw I wore a camisole under the button-up. Grinning sheepishly I removed the now unbuttoned blouse and helped as he pulled the cami up and over and away. A larger and still exasperated sigh came more forcefully when he saw my bra. (As if I could ever not wear one in public.)

“Damn it, woman. How many layers do you have?” he teased seeing how my face had lit up.

“Too many?” I asked coquettishly.

He kissed me as he reached behind me to unclasp my bra. Pulling the last layer away and letting my lips go, he professed, “Not anymore.” Crashing back into me, kissing me as he palmed my breasts, he leaned me back against the sofa. Slowly working his way down to my chest he reveled once more in my generous tits, relishing how they reacted to his touch.

Unbuttoning my pants, he began tugging at them. Reactively I lifted my hips for him, and he slid the material down, leaving me in only my very unsexy underwear. He smiled and raised an eyebrow as he looked pointedly at the white cotton briefs.

“What?” I chided. “It’s not like I expected this or you or….” He repeated the removal process with the panties. The last thing I saw was a silly grin of his before I covered my face with my hands. When he began to further spread my legs, positioning himself like he used to- I couldn’t, I just couldn’t let him!

“Arthur, don’t! I… it’s not like I’ve had any reason to wax or shave. Hell, I barely keep it—”

I was going to say trimmed, but the man pulled me to him with such hunger and force, he fizzled the word right out of my head. If any other words had ever had a hope, it was long gone as he dove into my pussy. Shockwaves of delight cascaded through me as he seemed to remember every bit of me. Yes, I was already very wet and completely aroused for him, but I still couldn’t believe how quickly he made me cum. My thighs tightened around his head when he wouldn’t stop, my hips bucking of their own volition. Somehow I managed to get onto all fours lengthwise on my sofa as a result of a ludicrous and desperate cunnilingus roll, with him still under me.

Just when it really was getting to be too much, he backed off. After he moved I collapsed on the sofa and turned my head to look up at him. Staring down at me, his face was shining with my juices, and he looked happier than I’d ever seen him. He leaned down to brush his hands over my body, spending some extra time on my ass and the crease at the bottom of my cheeks.

“What, you’re not going to offer your boss a seat?” he quipped.

“Oh, do not call yourself that!” I playfully wailed as I scooted down, allowing his naked ass room to sit on my lovely leather sofa.

He leaned back, letting his head fall even further as he closed his eyes and reached for me. Laying my head on his lap, I began purring whenever he’d run his fingers through my hair. He still wasn’t looking down, but I knew he was smiling. This was all such a whirlwind. I didn’t understand why he’d waited so long to start anything…. Or why I’d cut off all connection with him when we were younger. I thought I was doing the smart, rational thing. I’d been an idiot. And I’d wasted time and energy on other people. Even in this post-orgasmic bliss I couldn’t keep my mind present, instead jealously wondering how many other people he’d invested this kind of energy into.

“I want you to know that there hasn’t been anyone since you. I never wanted anyone but you. I never have, and I never will.”

“Rory….” I said as I sat up with my legs tucked under me. He still wasn’t looking at me. Moving up onto my knees so I could see him better, I put my hands on either side of his face. When he opened his eyes I searched them, looking for any reason why I deserved this man’s love.

“I like it better when you call me Arthur. And you don’t do anything to deserve love, Lucia. You just do. Explaining why that is would be like describing the sky to a blind man. If you don’t know it already it’s a damn near impossible task and I don’t know that it’d do much good. Some things you just have to live with, and hope you get to know.”

“I should have been with you. I’m sorry I—” Pulling me down into a kiss, he moved me over his legs so I was straddling him. His hardening cock jerked up against me, beckoning me to put a hand down to help guide it to my warmth. I obliged. His mouth still on mine, he moaned as I impaled myself with his cock.

My hot, slick pussy was greedy for him, and in this position it’d be hard for me to bottom out and hit my cervix. As long as he didn’t get too boisterous that is, which I knew would happen sooner rather than later. I started grinding on his cock as he grabbed for my breasts. Same old Arthur, I mused to myself.

He looked at me, eyes clouded over with some unrecognizable emotion. As if it pained him, he said his words slowly, enunciating each with meticulous care, “The Moon doesn’t apologize to the darkness for being absent. You’re the light I’ve been after, Lucia. And you’re so beautiful and brilliant it hurts. Does that make any sense to you?”

“Only the bit about it hurting,” I whispered as I brought my forehead to his, existing in the present moment and nothing more. No worries of the past, no concerns for whatever our future might hold, simply being, and being with him.

Sliding his rear down and off the couch while leaving his shoulders on it, he moved my feet to the ground and used the lack of resistance under him to powerfully thrust up into me. There was enough oomph behind his movements that I fell forward onto his chest. His back and shoulders still firmly on the couch, he held me, kissing me at times, holding me passionately to him otherwise, all the while pounding up into my pussy, eliciting erotic sounds I hadn’t heard me make since our last time together.

I came at least twice while he savored having me like this, the hold, the control, the view. Both of us sweaty and panting, he finally slipped off the sofa completely, nearly taking me with him. Instead I caught myself, bringing his face an inch away from my pussy. Without hesitation he again buried himself, finding my aroused clit on contact.

“Arthur!” I playfully scolded as I stepped back. The mischief in his eyes worried me, but it also kept me from moving any further. He hopped up quickly, palming a breast while he kissed me and lowered me onto the sofa. Steadily he filled me, watching my face as my pussy took every bit of him. With half a grin and a head full of pride he started fucking me, making his own titillating, primal noises.

Again he fizzled my brain as he took me, fucked me, made love to me. Neither of us could get enough of one another. I suppose we did have time to make up for. A slight change of angle and I was cumming again, back arched and nipples painfully hard as I rode my waves of pleasure. As I hit my peak he went wild, enthusiastically letting go and forgoing any restraint. His own release followed quickly as he shot rope after rope of his warm seed deep inside me, right up against my cervix as he held himself there, driving me wild with the constant, electric mixture of pain and pleasure.

Almost instantly I could feel his cum dripping out around him. He’d always had large loads, but this seemed excessive. I squirmed at the flowing sensation, that and the feeling of his spent dick twitching deep within me. He held me tightly, rubbing his temple to mine as our sweaty bodies relaxed into one another. My fingers were still clinging to his back from when he came so fiercely. He moved, pressing his lips to my temple, holding them there.

His lips flush against me as they were, it wasn’t possible for him to say a word. And yet, a voice, barely audible yet crisp even in its diminutive volume, clearly stated, “I love you, my light in the darkness.” It was too much to have been imagined. And too much for him to have actually said without moving his lips. My body tensed at the strangeness of it all and he chuckled against my skin. When he pulled away I must have had an odd expression on my face.

He cocked his head and asked, “Something wrong, Lucia?”

How could I explain? There’d been enough bizarre occurrences whenever we got together, I didn’t want to add anymore and risk scaring him away.

Broad, elated smile shining on my face, I shook my head. “No, Arthur. Nothing is wrong and everything feels amazing.” He kissed me again and already I could feel his cock stiffening. I’d barely survived that round. I certainly wasn’t ready for another one so soon. He grabbed me and flipped us over, placing me on top of his chest. It was occasionally annoying how strong he was, but very rarely.

After a spell of us cuddling, me gently tweaking his nipples every so often because I knew he secretly loved it, he cleared his throat. It was obvious, he was anxious about something. “Lucia, I… I don’t know how to do this. Would you, um… fucking hell! Will you go to dinner with me tonight?!” It was his turn to tense up as he waited for my answer. How could he think I wouldn’t?!

“Of course, Arthur! What on earth are you so nervous about?”

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I could tell you. But it’s been so long, and we never actually dated back then. We fucked mostly, occasionally made love, and—”

“And spent hours and hours simply talking about everything and nothing. My husband couldn’t even bother doing that.” As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them. “Ex-husband, that is. But you know that.”

“I do. And I’m sorry about him. You deserved so much better, every step of the way.”

“It’s strange, but I’m starting to feel inclined to agree with you. And… thanks.”

My team was slowly trickling in now. Laying naked on top of their CEO, I had a brief moment of panic before I remembered the one-way glass. Of course, that wouldn’t do anything for the noise. Something that was going to be an issue sooner rather than later as his cock continued to harden even more against me. I grumbled looking out at them, and his eyes followed my line of sight.

“Would you like me to go out and order them all to leave for a while?” It amused me how easily he fell into this leadership role when he’d been so adamant back in high school about avoiding it.

“Don’t be silly. They’re working and that would just….”

“Are you afraid they’ll hear us and think less of you? Why should you care?”

“They’re my team! If they think their position here is dependent on whether or not you and I are bonking I don’t think they’d feel as assured of their positions. That insecurity isn’t good, especially if it becomes distracting. You can imagine how your primal animal grunts and groans might distract them. Never mind the sounds you pull out of me.” His chuckled as his chest puffed with pride under me and his hands began wandering to somewhat more hidden and adventurous places.

“Well then, I need to convince you to just take off with me. We’ll drive across the country, see the world, and never look back.”

“Hmm, maybe later,” I mused.

“Fair enough. For now I’ll just have to help you be quiet by having complete control. I should be able to control myself as well that way.”

“Can you really do that?” I was skeptical, and sore, but now that I’d caught my breath, there was no way I was going to miss out another round with him after I’d missed more than a decade’s worth.

Picking me up he headed to the meeting table. On the other side of the windows, just past the table, my team was working away, chatting about this or that, likely their weekend or plans for the rest of summer. They had no idea their immediate boss and the head of the corporation were fucking each other’s brains out in here.

Kissing me hard as he put me down, he then twirled me around and bent me over the table. I giggled like a schoolgirl as he manhandled me about, until I felt a firm hand cover my mouth. Rolling my eyes despite him not being able to appreciate it, I bucked my ass back against him slightly in a vain attempt to convey my contempt for his lazy fix. In all fairness though, I don’t know what I expected. His other hand grabbed my ass, clutching it firmly, almost painfully in the best way. He knew I was loving this as I moaned into his palm.

Pushing me down against the table, he positioned himself behind me. Slowly, maddeningly so, he pressed at my entrance and slid his entire length into me. My body shook with delight as he again stretched me out, filling me perfectly. I was surprised at how quiet he was managing to be. Surprised, and a little… annoyed? One hand was still over my mouth, the other grabbing tightly onto my hip when he started his slow thrusts. Every time he was fully sheathed, I’d tighten myself down there.

The first time my slick walls squeezed down on his cock, he had to quickly clamp his jaw shut to prevent any lewder sounds. I was pushing his ability to stay quiet, and he loved that. I was trying to stay silent, but those slow thrusts quickly sped up, making it harder and harder. I quickly gave up, instead trusting him to keep the noises down for the both of us.

Before long he was fucking me up onto the table. I perked my ass up and laid my head against the coolness of the wood. His hand slightly slipped from its hold and purpose, letting a single audible moan escape. That pushed him to tighten his grip again and bring his other hand up to my throat, forcing me to either look out at my team or shut my eyes. We’d only cursorily tried choking in our youth. I’m sure he’d seen it in some porno or other and wanted to see how I’d react and how it’d feel for him. It was just okay back then, but now it set my mind and my pussy on fire.

There was something different this time as he leaned onto my back, using the full range and power of his hips and ass to roughly, yet quietly, fuck me. Maybe it was his grip, or how unyielding he was, hell, maybe it was the table, but most likely it was my impishness rejoicing as his cock filled me in my office, making me watch my team at work. A few more hard thrusts, his fingers tightening around my throat, and I was cumming even harder than I had an hour ago.

It must have set some things on fire for him, too. Or possibly it was my pussy, swollen from a sudden upsurge of use along with the sensation of it clenching around his aching cock. I’d always been able to tell when he was near his peak. I looked around outside my office, my team was finally actually getting to work. Now’s when the challenge to remain silent was going to come for Arthur.

Swiftly both of his hands retreated. As he grabbed for my hips, pushing and pulling as he fucked me, sliding me off and back onto his cock- this bastard let loose the lewdest roar, as if he was the fucking King of Pride Rock as he, too, came incredibly hard.

I was beyond mortified as my pussy kept quivering and contracting as he again coated my insides. Looking around outside of my office, not one person seemed to have noticed. Or was acting any differently. I couldn’t believe it. And I had no idea what was going on. He kissed the nape of my neck, his hands running all over my worn body as he panted freely.

“Relax, Love. I had your office sound-proofed.”

“What?! Why?! Were you so sure this would happen?” My voice was full of incredulity, and a touch of indictment.

“Even darkness dreams, Lucia.”

A shiver ran through me as he picked me up and carried me back to my sofa. Laying down himself and careful to place me gently back on top of him. I was thankful I’d gone with the leather. Easier to clean up all of our messes later on. For now, I just wanted this.

Unaware of how much time had passed, sure that I’d fallen asleep, I was startled when one of my researchers knocked loudly enough to wake me. “I need to get out there,” I grumbled against his chest.

“I’m not telling you your life or business or how to run your lab, but maybe you can take today off? I don’t want to leave you.”

“You’re not leaving me. You never were the one to leave. I’ll see you for dinner tonight. I need to shower and whatnot, so I’ll be taking off slightly earlier than usual anyway.”

“Are you kicking me out now?”

“I mean, kinda.”

He played wounded, trying to make me laugh. It didn’t work, I was too overcome with everything that had happened so far. And it was only Monday morning. We dressed slowly, teasing, caressing, enjoying one another. I walked out with him, trying to keep a stern face. Hopefully they’d assume the worst, that I’d gotten in trouble for something or other. Arthur played his role perfectly. Enjoying it far too much.

Mid-afternoon I realized I should have just taken the day. I couldn’t stop thinking about him. And I couldn’t stop feeling more and more of his cum leaking out of me. I told my assistant I was heading out early. She seemed worried; I’d never done that before. I was usually in before anyone else and didn’t leave until they’d all long gone. Assuring her I was fine, merely distracted and needing to deal with something, I worked very hard to not practically skip out of the building.

Showered, shaved, and my whole body smelling like gardenias (his favorite), I donned a little black dress with somewhat sheer black fabric going from the low bodice to my neck as well as the sleeves, accentuated with adorable polka dots. They popped against my light skin, and I’d been waiting years to wear this dress.

My heart raced when I heard the doorbell ring, even though it was early, very early. I was rushing to the door when I felt it before I heard it. A wave of an explosion, followed by a sizzling blast low and deep as the shreds of my door blew into my apartment, debris and blue flames flying everywhere. A tall woman wearing sunglasses stepped precariously over the wreckage. She was flanked by four, for lack of a better word, gremlins. Hunchbacked, grotesquely muscular creatures, no taller than three feet when they did stand upright, and blue flames swirling around their bodies. They used their long arms and hands to walk and scuttle as much as their short, stubby legs and feet. Tails like fiery whips crashed into and slashed through everything they came into contact with. Speaking in a series of grumbles and hoots, they seemed to address the tall woman.

“Come along, your Brilliance,” trilled the woman with the oddly familiar sunglasses as she vaguely nodded towards me with mock veneration.

No words would come, none would have made any sense. My heart was racing, my stomach had dropped, and I knew I needed to flee. I ran to the other end of my apartment, hoping to escape through my bedroom window. Before I could even slam that door shut, it too was obliterated in short order. Wooden shrapnel cut through me as the force threw me to the ground, knocking the wind out of me. Though perhaps it would be more accurate to say the wind was pulled out of me. I found myself unable to breathe as the tall woman entered my bedroom with her hand raised and clutching some invisible thing, followed closely by her demonic blue minions.

“All I need is your light. Bless me with it, rescind it from yourself, and no one need perish.” I had no idea what the fuck this insane woman was talking about. I still couldn’t breathe and had begun instinctively scratching at my throat. The woman seemed annoyed and with a flick of her raised hand I was able to breathe again.

“Now, about your light….” Standing slowly, my eyes darting between her and her cerulean servants, somehow I managed to hear him again. Greg- scratching, tapping frantically on his terrarium. How could I have forgotten Greg?! He’d been with me through so much, gotten me through it all- if I was going to make another escape attempt, I needed to grab him first.

Nodding to her as if I understood, I moved towards Greg. She raised her chin to stare down at me and as she did I saw whisps of demonic blue flames from behind her sunglasses. A flash of a memory from a lifetime ago and I recognized her as the woman who had rear ended me that summer all those years ago. For a moment I was stunned, dumbfounded, frozen in place. And again Greg started tapping feverishly. His taps stirred me, and I started towards him once more.

Busying myself with his terrarium, scooping him up quickly as she started to ask what I was doing, I barely noticed Greg’s unusual behavior. Giant African millipedes have a fairly pathetic repertoire of defense mechanisms and no attack mechanism. Their defense consists of balling themselves up as much as their long bodies will allow, thus somewhat protecting their heads, legs, and underside. They can also secrete a fluid that stinks and, apparently, tastes terrible. Their attack consists of nothing more than creeping some people out.

Normally when I’d pick up Greg, he’d initially coil up in his defensive ball. Today when I went to pick him up, he scurried to me, twisting himself up and around my hand. Beginning to turn, I readied myself for a final, all out lunge towards that large window. (For whatever reason I thought if I could get out of this building I could be safe.)

And then there she was, inches away from me. She was so close; I could feel the heat of her flames. And yet, what stood out to me the most was that she had absolutely no scent. This closeness also brought my attention back to her sunglasses. From here I could see the flames dancing behind the lenses. Flames, and nothing else. Her minions were surrounding me now, hooting and cawing like savage little beasts. The woman grabbed hold of my wrist (thankfully not the one Greg was on) and squeezed tightly. Her touch seared into me and smoke rose from my burning flesh.

I wanted to scream, I needed to! But something inside me told me not to. Without thinking I grabbed for her hand, needing to tear it away. Greg scurried from me to her and almost instantly she let go, screaming. I’d never seen someone so fearful of my tiny buddy before. Then I saw it, and smelled it. Greg’s secretions were apparently eating away at her flesh.

While she was preoccupied, her blue blazed creatures hopping about her hysterically, I dashed for the window. She shrieked and as I opened the window I saw her pull Greg off of her and slam him to the ground. I was gutted. Some part of me knew when I sprinted away that this would be how it would end for Greg, at this horrible thing’s lack of mercy. Knowing it, and having it register with you on an emotional level are two very different things.

It came out as a long whisper, “No!” as I saw her creatures grabbing for parts of my pet, ripping his small, fragile body apart. Fragile is a funny word. Fragile- easily destroyed, vulnerable, delicate. People are like that. Dreams too. But it’s rarer than you think for fragility to remain a constant companion. Watching Greg be ripped to shreds and devoured, some frail part of me crumbled. Destroyed, my escape intentions faltered.

“Your light, your Brilliance. Or your other little pet will suffer the same.”

That made even less sense to me. I didn’t get the light and brilliance bit; I wasn’t even sure if I was hearing those words correctly. But other pet? That had been clear. And I’d never had another pet in my life.

“Other?” I mumbled as I stared numbly, vacantly at the spot where Greg had ended.

“What is he called this time? Rosy, Whorey, Rory! That’s the one!” she beamed, proud of herself for recalling the name of the man I loved. Realizing that I did love him forced memories of pain to flood back through me. My childhood, my marriage, that night when I was eighteen, the spring peepers singing in the background as this woman scared me shitless and how he’d helped me. And then I’d left him. Arthur had always been there, in one way or another. And so had Greg.

Something in my brain flicked.

I’ve heard of people seeing red. I saw darkness. I became darkness. An ancient dread bubbling up as Arthur’s safety became my priority. I screamed then. Letting my dread out to play. I have no idea for how long or how I even managed to find the strength to do so, but I screamed.

Her minions evaporated into nothing but handfuls of those blue flames that twirled towards her and seemingly absorbed into her eyes. She lunged for me, trying desperately to cover my mouth. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I pulled at the darkness, the dread within me, and I let it out. I let out all the anger and hurt and frustration as I screamed in her face. Just as Greg’s secretions had been melting her hand and arm, my scream now melted the flesh and bones from her face. Her blue flames went out in a glimmering flicker. The rest of her burst, black gunk spraying out and all over me as I faced her. Whatever she was, she’d been inhabiting a vessel that wasn’t her own and couldn’t withstand her for long.

I wish I’d had the time or energy or give-a-shitness to try and figure out who she was when she wasn’t this blue demon bitch. But I didn’t. All I knew in that moment was that these people were after something, of what I wasn’t sure. But me being here was putting Arthur in danger. Unsure of what to do, panicking, I ran. Covered in that thing’s fetid body goo, I ran from my apartment and into the woods behind the complex. He’d be here soon, and I needed to not be. Maybe if he thought I was gone, maybe that would save him.

Fleeing until I could no longer breathe, my dress torn and tattered and matted with her sludge, I forced myself to keep going. Running, walking, crawling. Until I found a decrepit building somewhere amidst the miles and miles of wilderness. It was nearly pitch black, but everything was plainly visible now. Once inside the place was larger than I thought. Likely some kind of old and now abandoned hunting lodge. There was a large chunk of missing ceiling that made the grueling summer heat almost bearable, given the decent breeze coming in as the outside temperature started to quickly drop. As the starlight danced off of the cold, polished rock of the fireplace’s mantle, I felt as though I could finally breathe.

That was where I stopped. Collapsing, I let everything go. All my hurt and pain that I hadn’t used to eviscerate that awful, awful thing that had killed my Greg and threatened my Love. That’s probably why I didn’t hear him. I was bawling too loudly. My sobs reddening my eyes and swelling my sinuses as I ugly cried over more years of my life than not that I’d allowed myself to be mistreated.

An especially chilly breeze of the summer night blew about the room. Shivering, more from shock than the literal cold, I didn’t notice him at first. My guard was all but gone now. If someone wished to harm me, let them try. But pain wasn’t what found me.

Arthur found me.

He wrapped his arms around me as he, too, cried. I wanted to send him away. To tell him I didn’t have the strength to keep going, and that he needed to leave here, and leave me for his own safety and well-being. I wanted to, but I didn’t. I let him hold me as we purifyingly cried out our pains and fears and losses. The pain settled and our breathing started to regulate. The wind picked up and again I shivered against the cold.

As though he hadn’t been holding me, he asked, “Are you cold?” Of course I was, but I didn’t have the strength to speak. “Of course you are!” he rebuked himself. Moving from me for no more than a minute, he built up a raging fire in the stone fireplace. The heat instantly soothed me. It was as if the warmth or the light itself from the fire was slowly bringing me back to life, comforting me, just like he was.

“Arthur….” I managed to squeak.

“It’s okay, Lucia. You’re safe now.”

“I don’t care about me! What about you?! You should have stayed away and let me go.”

“There is nothing in this world, or any other, that could keep you from me.” His dark eyes shone with a veracity that prickled at my heart.

“What… what are you talking about?”

“You have a dread within you, my light. It’s from the binding you performed for us. You gave so much of yourself, I had to give something. You hadn’t planned for that, and so you took in the extra instead of letting it loose into this world.

“I tell you now- there is no dread, no darkness, no fairytale nor nightmare that will ever stop us. Plenty have tried over the lives we’ve lived, and they’ve paid for it. I have loved you in every one of those lives of ours, and I always will. You are home to me. When our kind was dying out, when magic and wonder began to turn inwards on itself, you bound us together, forever. And forever since we’ve come back, again and again, finding one another, falling in love all over again.”

“Arthur, that doesn’t….” I couldn’t even say those words, that doesn’t make any sense. Superficially, I felt as though they were true. Felt as if I needed to say the words that I knew should be right. But they wouldn’t come, because it did make sense. I could feel it and knew what he was saying to be true.

“I was always part of my family, so I am always born back into it somewhere, knowing what I am. But you? You were always alone, before me. Having given so much of yourself, you often don’t remember, like now. And so I find you. You are always my light, Lucia. And I will always be your shield, protecting you, come what may. That first time when I had you in this body, when it was different, it was all our past lives, reflections of them, joining together. That’s why it was so….”

“Perfect?”

“Yes,” he chuckled. “That’s why. And that was the first time I knew you were you. It’s been ages since I’d found you so early on. I was over the moon, if you’ll pardon the expression. But given—”

“Why? Why would I need to pardon that expression?” He looked at me a bit cock-eyed, but that seemed an oddity among the bizarre to me.

“Do you remember anything?”

Wide eyed, I could do nothing but shake my head.

“You are the celestial moon, embodied. Selene, Luna, Hecate, and countless other names. And I am the luckiest demon in the world. The only child of a cunning demoness and a misanthropic sorcerer, I was adept enough in the ways of both lineages to eventually get close to you. I almost captured you, and your light. But that vanity nearly cost me my life. And then I fell in love.

“You took me in. Healed me… in so many ways. And I’ve been happily ensnared ever since.”

He leaned in and kissed me. The kind of kiss that told me he was done with his explanation and wanted to show me just how thoroughly I’d entangled him. Covered in blood and guts and gore, all baking onto me as we sat too close to the fire, I still needed answers more than I needed my own passions quenched.

“So, you remember our… what? Past lives?”

“It’s not so much past lives. We fall apart when we die. But we, as we always have been, come back together. You bound our essences together. Think of the binding like gravity, powerful, perpetually pulling us back into one another’s orbit. And so we get to be us again, and again, and again. A blessing you gave us a very long time ago. We’re not invincible, and we’re not all powerful. It took a lot out of you to do this for us. And we’re still weakened from it. But we’re not powerless.”

“A blessing? Look at me, Arthur. Are you sure it’s not a curse?”

“I get to have you forever. You are my blessing! Occasionally that means things get a bit messy. It’s their own fault.”

“If that’s really what, who, we are… Why did you ever let me go?”

“We don’t always come together. Unfortunately we do sometimes miss one another. We’re generally miserable, but we do try to make the most of it. And I wasn’t going to force you, push you into us if you weren’t ready for it, or maybe didn’t want it anymore. I tried helping you. Whenever Greg would see you needed something, I did everything I could to be there for you. When he showed me that I needed to let you go, I did. When you were attacked, he saved you, well, he gave you an opportunity to escape. I only wish I could have gotten there sooner.”

“Wait, Greg? My millipede Greg?!”

“Yes. Greg- the giant African millipede that lived an unnaturally long life. You really never wondered about that? He lived nearly twice as long as they usually do.”

“I… I thought I was just good at taking care of him,” I confessed, an ocean of turmoil and rage threatening to engulf me. He’d saved me countless times. I hadn’t been able to save him once. And selfishly, I thought about how that little arthropod had been with me through the worst parts of my life, the only thing with me. And now he was gone.

“He wasn’t the only thing, Lucia. I was there with you whenever he was.”

“I’m not imagining that, am I? You can read my—”

“Thoughts? Yes, and communicate with you on a somewhat more eldritch level. But you need to be perceptive to it. It’ll be easier once you remember. I did try a couple of times to give you hints, clues as to what you are. Maybe someday I’ll learn, you’re not ready until you’re ready. There’s nothing I can do to hurry that along. As much as I’d like to.” He half smiled at me, but it was tainted with a sadness that I was just starting to appreciate.

“So how were you there with me? Or Greg?”

“I gave him a piece of me. You were leaving, needed to, and I needed to make sure you were okay. Especially after they’d already found you that night.”

“Why didn’t she just take me out then when she found me? You weren’t there. Neither was Greg, though I don’t think you’d done whatever to him yet. Why did she just let me go?”

“You weren’t a threat yet, not really. Until you remember, there’s little you can do to them as a whole. Attacking you that way isn’t worth the risk, as you both found out earlier. If we didn’t come together, they’d never bother. I knew when you left you’d be safe, but I was greedy and wanted more of you. I should have left you alone earlier, trusting you’d come back to me. I’m sorry, my Light.

“Once we did come back together they knew they had a very small window of opportunity. It was foolish of me to not think this through, I just never thought you’d leave your lab as early as you did. This version of you is an annoyingly diligent worker. Still, I should have stayed with you until you fully reclaimed your light, but I wasn’t going to go against your wishes again.

“That first night when she found you was mostly a message. I think they were hoping to scare you away from here, or from me. They don’t seem to realize we’re getting stronger with every new version of us. Now the only real chance they have at all, not that it played out well for them, is attacking when they’re at their strongest, and you at your….”

“Weakest? I can feel that. But why?”

“It’s the Blue Moon. Your physical embodiment is still somewhat tied to your etherealness. It being where it is, and you being where you are, it… drains you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. I don’t understand….” I truly didn’t understand, but I knew his words to be fact. I knew it in the deepest, darkest corners of my being. He watched me patiently, affectionately as he reassured me.

“You may not understand now. But you will.”

“Is that, this, why I never— Why my mother hated me?”

“Yes, and no. Some are more sensitive to what we are. She likely could sense there was something different about you. Regardless, no mother should treat their child the way she did.”

“And my husband?”

“Oh, he was just an asshole. But I’ve taken care of that. Each of our reincarnations has its own kinks. I’ve always howled for you. And you’ve always been after your Wolf.”

“But I married an asshole….”

“Well, yes. But you thought you’d found him. Everything seemed to fit well, yes? Or maybe you were still just running from….” He grumbled to himself, not wanting to finish that last thought, true as it was. “There can be a fine line between a Wolf and an asshole. Do you remember what I was like to everyone? Still mostly am.”

“I do. But you always treated me kindly. Almost always.”

“And I always will, and better. Even when you ask for harshness. It killed me when I nearly made you cry, when I hurt you right after you came back. I wanted what we’ve always had so badly. But that’s a shit excuse and we both know it. The mere idea of being cruel like that, to you, it pains me. It always has, even before I knew you were you. I’ve always wanted to shower you with care and compassion.”

“And you have. So, what were you doing that summer? Before you knew it was me?” He blushed now and for a moment he looked like that teenager all over again.

“Well, I do need to find you. I’m pulled to you, even when I don’t realize it. And it isn’t like it was outside the realm of possibility to find you so soon. And I did like you. I just—” He was rambling and lost. Adorable as it was, I had to save him. But I also wanted to one more thing about that summer.

“If I hadn’t been me, if you’d found that out right away, would you still have—”

“It would have been an amazing summer, yes.” He kissed me again, trying desperately to distract me from his flushed cheeks. Or possibly to make mine match. Which reminded me of something.

“Is this why I can’t have children?”

“You can’t have children with mortal men, at least not how mortal women do. It’s a more directed process for the embodiment of a goddess. We’ll have time for that later, if you wish. Any other questions, my Light?”

“One more. What did happen to your hair?”

“Ah, well, when my father died I became the head of my family. My sorcerer side became more prominent than what this mother gave me. As such, many of the tributes from his family line became more prominent- my hair, abilities, familial obligations, that sort of thing. I’d love to tell you everything. One day. For now, let’s get you cleaned up. You’ll feel better without their poison on you.”

“And how do we do that? We’re so far away from—”

“You’d be amazed what a half-demon, half-sorcerer can do with a well-equipped pack.” He took a few steps and brought over a large hiking pack, remarkably stuffed. I watched him at his craft, awed and mesmerized. Pulling bundles and bundles of oddly shaped lumps of things from his pack, all wrapped in dark fabric, he lined them up in front of the fireplace. Next he pulled several bottles of water out, handing me one and lining the rest up off to the side. Finally he heaved and yanked at the pack until a small cauldron emerged.

Amazed, all I could do was watch as he toiled at his expertise. He placed the cauldron in the open flames of the fireplace and poured bottle after bottle of the water into it. Unfurling and adding bits and pieces from the multiple bundles, he worked to fashion an amalgam of sorcery and mending. Springing from the cauldron, colorful sparks danced and whirled before and around him. Ignoring all the lively splendor of what he was producing about him, focusing solely on his creation, he still found a moment to press me to drink the water he’d given me.

When he seemed satisfied with his concoction, he pulled the red-hot cauldron away from the fire with his bare hands and took a long, deep breath. “It’s ready. Nothing terribly special, but it will replenish you. And it’ll help you remember. Is that…. Do you want—”

“To remember? Of course!” I exclaimed. How could I not?! As crazy as everything he’d told me sounded, I believed him. He’d never lied to me before, and there was something ancient in me telling me that he never would.

A wave of relief washed over him as he let out a heavy sigh. He helped me out of my ruined dress and tenderly assisted me out of my undergarments. I was so worn out, bruised, and damaged, I could barely move. Chaste had never been a word I’d use to describe him, but if he’d had any untoward thoughts as he stripped me bare, not even his eyes betrayed him.

He retrieved sheets of a silken cloth, soaking them in his potion. Taking a handful of the goop he’d made, he strung it through my hair, letting it fall down the rest of me. “Just relax, Lucia. It’ll do what it needs to.” Continuing to deposit more of the stuff on my face, neck, chest, he saw when I could feel a light coming to life as it settled on my flesh, giving me a somewhat soft glow.

When it started to prickle at my soul he stopped applying the tincture and started wrapping me in the rolls of soaked fabric. He whispered unknown words under his breath as he swathed me in the cloth. Faint markings enchantingly lit up on the saturated material as his breath moved over it. Those illuminated patterns looked to have extinguished as he wrapped it around my naked body, but I could feel them. Feel them seeping into me, under my skin, down to my bones and into my primeval blood.

“Are you there?”

“A little, I think?”

“It can be a slow process, but it’s begun now that you’ve chosen to remember. Ask anything of me and it’s yours. Knowledge, resources, me- I’ll give you what I can, my Love.”

Something came back to me in a flash. “You’re…!” I squealed in joy, remembering sparks of the love we’d been sharing forever, but not quite his original name. His roguish smile impossibly added magnitudes of joy to my elation.

Removing the cloth and wiping away the gunk, my body had now been cleansed inside and out. I still felt weak, but not as though I was a step away from passing out. It was more of a comfortable calm, a contentment. A warmth enveloped me in tranquility. Smiling softly as he took me in, all of me, he managed to pull himself away as he grabbed a robe from his pack. Shining under the light of the Blue Moon that had risen above the opening in the ceiling, it somehow seemed newly… familiar to me.

With a reverence that should have surprised me, he placed the garment around my shoulders. It was a concurrent balm for my nerves and whetstone for my mind. So much more came rushing back to me. Life after life with him. We had missed some, and we truly had been miserable, but those were wonderfully anomalous. He was wrong about a few things though. He was my Darkness as I was his Light, but it was so much more, shades and shadows, depravities and obscurities. Ever since I’d agreed to bind us together, we’d needed one another to come back to who we truly were. He needed my light to cast his shadows, and I needed his darkness to fully bloom.

I’d taken my time coming around to him this life. But it made me treasure the time we’d had when we were younger all the more, as well as the glorious present. We had forever, but it never seemed like enough. Turning to him, much of myself restored, I needed him. Needed to have him, needed him to have me, needed us.

He came to me, our spirits crashing into one another with mutual need. I slipped out of my unearthly robe as he hurriedly tore away at his own clothing. Still fidgeting frantically with his pants, he watched as I first laid down the robe in front of the fire and then myself atop it. Legs spread wide while he was still kicking off his shoes, I began playing with myself. Pinching a nipple with one hand while the other slid over my smooth mound. Tracing my slit with only one finger, feeling my warm juices, arching my back, eyes closed in pleasure as the heat from the fire tangled across my skin with the chill from the late summer evening.

Realizing he should have been done and on me by now, I paused my self pleasure and opened my eyes. He stood mere inches from me, his cock hard and throbbing, his chest slowly rising and falling as he worked to control himself. I could see myself reflected in his black eyes. Our love was an ancient one, filled with darkness and dread and desire. I could see all of that within me, and within him.

“My Dark Wolf, I am yours.” My Wolf had found me, howled to me, and I’d finally come around.

Blazing red eyes swooped down as he placed himself above me and swiftly buried his cock deep within my warmth. He plunged himself into me, filling me, stretching me out, hitting my cervix once again. Sensual pain combined with the primal sounds of his own pleasure- I couldn’t get enough! The muddling of sensations, so much pain and pleasure, enchanted me. I finally understood why it had happened our first time. I was trying to remind myself of everything. My climax peaked while he was still steadily thrusting, my whole body vibrating like never before. I managed to pull myself from the stars to really look at him. The expression on his face, the bliss and longing being conveyed- for the first time I realized why it had hurt so much losing him. I hadn’t lost him, I’d been running from him, from the other half of my heart.

Details still evaded me, but I’d died countless times for him, and he’d died countless times more for me. He’d been the only wolf howling that I ever noticed, and I’d been trying to get back to him for an eternity. I pulled his face down to me and kissed him as though I was about to lose him again. That was a long ways off now, but I’d never forget its seemingly perpetual imminence.

Heavy lidded, I let go. Switching our positions, he sat me atop him, firmly impaled. I started instinctively working my pussy up and down his length while holding onto him. It was carnal and corporeal, and as I was about to cum again the moon shone down upon us. For the first time I could see his demon half.

His countenance darkened, his horns perceptible and tangible. They rested against his head, hard, black, and ridged. Three on each side, every consequent one smaller than the last and all lying in a row of crescent shapes embedded in his hair. I traced one with a hand, letting him take over as he thrust forcefully in and out of me. At my touch his eyes again glowed red. Another orgasm was already building. The pleasure was overwhelming and without thinking I grabbed hold of two of his horns as I rocked myself up and down, my hot cunt clenching onto his cock as the building waves began.

He growled and grabbed hold of me, fucking me with a wild and frenzied need. It was as though he was possessed, the force of his thrusts as he held me down to him propelled us into a spin and onto our sides and then I was on my back again. His arms still wrapped tightly around me as he claimed me, holding me to him as he went faster, and harder, and rougher.

My mad demon Wolf felt my climax as I tightened around him, and he truly let go. Howling up at what was left of me above, marking me down here as his own, cumming alongside me and filling me with his hot seed.

After a few moments of heavy panting and sweet whispers, his grip loosened. He held himself off of me slightly, admiration clouding his sight. Once more I could see myself reflected in his dark eyes, luminous and no longer lonely. He could see that I finally saw myself, his chest again puffed with pride and delight.

“Will you take off with me now, my Lucia, my Light? Cross the country, see the world, never look back, all that?”

“Yes, my Dark Wolf.”

THE END

Blog

A BLOOM OF DARKNESS by Cthulhus Buttercup

A Bloom of Darkness

Like this:

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

A Bloom of Darkness

Share this:

Like this:

Leave a Reply Cancel reply