by Martha Woods
Tabitha nods, pushing her lips together apologetically. “And quickly. Being there…changes people sometimes.”
“Great,” I say, as my lips fall into a deep frown. “I’ve got ten hours left on the clock to defeat the most powerful being on earth, tell my boss the truth about supernatural creatures, and get one of my boyfriends out of purgatory.”
“Sounds like a normal Tuesday to me,” Damon says.
“Can we talk about the kitsune?” Tariq asks.
“Sure,” I say. “Do you have information? How we can beat him?”
“Well, if we can find a way to put him in a box or cell or something, it would weaken him,” Tariq says. “And if we can get to his heart with a silver dagger, that would do it, too. The problem is that he can literally shape-shift into anyone. We might never know if we have the right person.”
“He’s very egotistical,” I say. “He will always show his true self.”
“That face is not his true self,” Tabitha says. “Not if he truly is kitsune.”
“I’m just saying that he likes that face, the face of Alvin Quick,” I say. I run my hands over my face. “I’m tired. Not making sense.”
“We’ll have to set a trap,” Damon says. “Build something to hold him in. Let it weaken him so we can kill him.”
“Do you think he has a partner?” Tabitha asks. “I read a little about kitsune and there are usually pairs of them – one male and one female.”
I hadn’t thought of that. It makes me stomach hurt. What if there are actually two?
“Well, none of us will be useful if we don’t get some sleep,” I say. “Let’s go with Damon’s idea, to build a trap. We’ll stage a battle with everyone who pledged the blood oath tonight, but it will just be a ruse so that we can get him near us. Details tomorrow…after I talk my way out of getting arrested for a murder I didn’t commit.”
“So much to do, so little time,” Damon says.
“How can you be so cavalier about this?” Tabitha asks.
I giggle, thankful to see some spunk from the teenage witch. “It’s fine. Sometimes we make bad jokes when we’re hiding our real feelings.”
I thank Tabitha for her efforts and ask Tariq to take her home.
When it’s just Damon and me, he starts erasing one of my white boards. He means to start strategizing, but I honestly can’t stomach it at the moment.
“You don’t want to get started?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I just…can you just hold me for a while?”
His eyes soften. “Of course.”
He takes two big steps, pulls me into his arms and whisks me into the living room. We lie on the couch together, him spooning me from behind, his big hand splayed across my stomach, his breath warm against my neck.
“That was incredible…what you did back there,” he says.
“People lost their lives,” I say.
“Because they don’t trust easily,” he says. “But they saw it. They saw who you are, what you can do. They will follow you now.”
“I don’t want them to follow me. I want them to fight for their lives.”
“I know, but those are one in the same right now. Baby steps.”
His hand stiffens on my abdomen as he says the words. I know what he must be thinking, so I put my own hand on top of his. “It’s okay,” I say. “Whatever happens, it’s okay.”
Damon places light kisses at my neck, a comforting action that soon makes me forget my worry. His hand moves down, finding its way under my pajama bottoms, beneath my thin underwear. He finds my mound, his fingers deft as he pushes between my lips, finding my clit. As he strokes, I feel warmth and want replace anxiety and guilt.
Somehow, I know that the bond won’t stop us this time, not while it is weakened as it is. I should feel badly about this, but I just don’t, so I push my hips forward to tell Damon that I want him, that this is okay.
When two fingers dip inside of me, I feel a slight tug, a slight warning from the bond, but it doesn’t hurt. It’s not like before, so I relax, pumping my hips to meet his touch. His erection presses against my backside insistently, so I awkwardly pull my pants off, and then his, enough to unleash his cock. I lift one leg and he slides inside of me from behind, his hand moving to pay attention to my clit as he fills my pussy with his impressive shaft.
We move together, slowly at first. The pressure builds and I love having him so close like this, lined up against the length of me, his big body making me feel safe and secure. I know that I still love him, and for some reason, this makes me cry. Tears spill down my cheeks as I feel the tightening of my cunt around his cock, orgasm stealing my breath and my ability to move. So he moves us both, pumping through an orgasm that seems to last forever.
As I come back to reality, he says hushed words about how much he loves me, loves us, wants me to be okay. When I come for the second time, he comes along with me, “I love you” a chant on his lips as he empties himself into my womb.
When we are done, we just stay there, panting and connected, wanting nothing more than to stay in this bubble of safety and love.
Alas, we both have to get up. We have work to do. The first task of which is to go and tell Rick the truth about the Centerfold Murders.
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