A sinful tongue teases me as he takes possession of my cock in his mouth. My hands twist over my head, clutching the pillow as I arch my back off the bed with a sigh. I feel it in the pit of my stomach, the slow burn as he commands a release from me. 

Humming low in his throat, amused by my attempts to keep quiet, brings on a whole new spiral of sensation. I'm at his mercy, to do with whatever he likes, and for this morning, it would seem my pleasure is his for the taking. 

I always found it odd that he seemed so fond of having me this way, expertly navigating my manhood, but one would never hear a complaint from my lips. 

How could a man who was so familiar with the female form also be so comfortable with the body of another man? 

It had never made sense to me; he seemed often reluctant to receive the same in return. Everything about my body and owning it appealed to him. 

I gasped as he applied his teeth, my thighs wish to close, yet his fingers dig in as he holds them apart. 

"Am I boring you?" Verando muses, kissing the base of my cock before taking me back into his mouth with newfound determination.

As I near completion, my hands slide down to find his hair, writhing against him. "I just can't believe my luck. I found someone more hungry for cock than I am." I exhale, whimpering as his hand releases my thigh to slide two fingers inside me. 

"By the gods, you're an incredible man." I moan under the assault of his will. "Wouldn't you rather that be your cock?" 

Releasing me from my torment, he slides his tongue over the tip of my manhood. "I plan to take you for everything that you're worth, and only when you're spent and trembling, begging for mercy, will I give you what you're truly after. We have all morning, and I've been curious to see just how many times this filthy body can cum."

My cheeks flush as my heart gallops in my chest, leaving my body shuddering as he brings me so close to the edge only to back off and leave me desperate and panting. His fingers torment me, expertly navigating my sweet spot as I unappologetically moan for him. 

"Besides, I've been rather stressed, it pleases me to see you come undone."

"Stressed?" I manage, cursing as he swallows me, taking me into his throat as my back arches off the bed. "You're driving me crazy. I don't know how long you think I'm going to last--"

 A crisp knock on the door makes me squeeze my eyes tighter, and I damn anyone who dares to intrude to die a horrendous death. 

"Verando. Are you decent?" 

Biting my lower lip, I hear the pestering voice of Senator Campbell, and cross my legs to trap him between my thighs. So desperately close, I knew exactly what would please him and I'd be damned if he left me this way. I can feel the grin on his lips as he runs his tongue against the bottom of my cock, my hips twitch, threatening to take my frustration out on that unholy mouth.

"Verando, I need to speak with you. I've been warned not to come in, but this is pretty urgent. I need you to tell me what happened at The Bijou?" 

Verando adds a third finger, I wish the Senator would stop talking as I'm tempted to sufficate the man before I'd dare release him. 

"It's not like you to sleep in. You're not sick, are you?" Johnathan knocks one more time, more insistent this time. 

Where normally such things would send us into a sexually charged frenzy, I knew exactly where his 'stress' was coming from, Johnathan was a thorn in his side, a constant nag with no interest in hierarchy. He was well aware that his position gave him immunity from punishment, and my warlord held little control over him. He did as he liked, which made him unpredictable, and to be such a public member of our group put Verando on edge.

What happened to common decency? 

Were I still a King, this man could be hanged for such atrocities as waking a royal person for something so remedial.

 There would be no chance of getting any more out of him now, not with Johnathan reminding him that he was expecting an explaination. With a heavy sigh, Verando climbs up my body from under the covers, and I narrow my eyes at the boyish grin I'm greeted with, cursing him.

 "This is really unfair." I mouth to him, not kissing him back as his lips find mine. "Kill that man. I give you my permission. I was so damned close, you said I'd have you all morning. I was promised multiple orgasms."

Frustrated as well, Verando kisses my nose. "Maybe you should have focused more, hmm? When you lay there like a pillow princess, things take longer." He teases, kissing my cheek down to my neck. "I'm kind of thankfully, my jaw was getting sore." 

I stick out my tongue childishly. "While you give incredible head, I was already begging for cock."

"I will make up for it, promise, all promised orgasms will be accounted for with perhaps more.. cock.. as you're requesting." He exhales as he slides out from under the covers. 

I'm in a foul mood altogether due to my state of neglect. "Guarenteed more cock." I murmur, "All of it. All that I want, as much as I want for as long as I want. I want lycan stamina." I demand of him.

My lamenting must tickle him, for he cracks a grin as he answers the irritated Senator. "I hear you, Johnathan, one moment and I'll fill you in on all the dirty details."

Scoffing from outside the door, Johnathan sounds audibly frustrated. "You could sound less happy, it's all over the damn news. Just get out here." 

As Verando picks up our clothes from the night before, he carefully stores them in the laundry basket. I scrub my fingers through my hair as I try to overcome the frustration of incompletion. Entering the bathroom behind him, as he brushes his teeth, I put my arms around his waist and lay my cheek against his back.

My eyes wander, finding the faint line of a mark on his side. 

"That's remarkable. I've never seen you heal like this." I point out, releasing him to trace over the wound. 

Glancing down, he shrugs half heartedly, and I marvel at the intense routine of brushing that I'm witnessing. 

"Why did I not notice this side of you? You're giving me a complex about my brushing habits..." Casually, I grab my own toothbrush and try to make up for my shortcomings when next to someone who takes things so seriously.

"I've been interested in control since we met. Does any of this madness truly surprise you?" Verando rinses, leaving the bathroom, and quickly steps into a pair of jeans, pulling on a simple shirt. I couldn't help but worry, was it new or old habits I'd never noticed? 

Was he getting worse with his debilitating darkness, was I losing him to the war against the sadness, and that's why he forced himself to clean too aggressively?

I watch him depart with a forlorn expression and catch a glimpse at my own reflection, the casual stubble, and the fact that my hair is growing out again. I could almost chuckle, for I look nothing like a King, and my past self would disapprove of my current self. 

Raking my eyes over my body, I can't help but scrutinize the barrage of scars and marks that litter my olive skin. I'm older, there are lines in my face now that I feel weren't there before as I tilt my head to examine my jawline. 

No longer was I a kid; it felt as though overnight I had stepped out of youth and into the actual depth of adulthood with a hardened jawline and less baby fat. Even though I see my reflection every morning, how often do I genuinely look at it? 

Dismissing myself, I get dressed in the clothes he'd brought for me from the compound and enter the living space to eavesdrop on the power struggle between a Senator and a warlord. 

As Verando recants the night, I find I can't stomach this egotistical bastard who speaks to my lover as if they were equal. I want to get out of the house, for there would be nothing pleasent about my face after interrupting what could of been exceptional love making.

Marisol places a cup of coffee in my hand with a tired expression, and I wish I had just gone back to bed. Tthe Senator would have to learn that the best way to work with Verando would be to let him do as he wants or come up with actual logic for his concerns.

Emotions earn you very little ground with a man who was strictly factual and literal to a fault. Walking over to the tense man, I kiss him on the point of his shoulder. 

"I'm going to town for a bit."

In fact, I hadn't planned anything at all, but fresh air and some alone time would be wonderful. I note the flash of hesitation that crosses his face, only for Johnathan to throw his hands up.

"That's another thing! Speaking of this fiance of yours, why do you want to kill David Malcom?"

"Why don't you? He's untrustworthy at best, and a quite possibly a traitor." Verando retorts sharply before pulling out his wallet and handing me a shiny black card. "This is not open for discussion, Johnathan. This is how I do business; if you don't wish to do business, then we are done here." 

"I don't enjoy killing people, Mr.Mercer. In my mind, only criminals wish to kill people?!"

Turning his attention to me, my warlord sighs, raking his gaze over my body with a longing that makes me flush, he wished we'd had time together this morning as well. "Maybe for the best, this will be quite boring for you. Keys are on the shelf, please don't wreck it, as it's carrying very precious cargo." 

Kissing my forehead, I slip my arm around his waist unappologetically to Johnathan as I give him a firm squeeze of reassurance.

When did he become so lovesick? Perhaps he really was stressed.

"Do you want to come with me, Marisol?" I ask, more to appease his concern than for the company. The female jumps up, she flashes her middle finger at Johnathan and follows me out the door. 

In a way, Marisol reminds me of Penelope, but without the derangement. I feel that the woman rarely acts out of anger; her emotions are genuine, and she has full intent behind everything she does. 

She strutted around his house half-naked and pregnant with his child, and yet I felt as though the boundaries were clear, and I had even begun to think of her as one of my friends. 

Verando seems to exhale in relief. "Thank god." Taking the keys from my hands, he places them in hers. Horrified, offended, and slightly relieved, I flash him a scowl and storm out of the house with what little dignity I had left.

"Where do we stand, you and I?" I ask her as we sit in the car, reluctantly taking my seat as the passenger. I'd had a few lessons, but not enough to manage this beast. Touching the seat, I begin to do simple math. 

How did he make so much money so quickly? 

Saving the world didn't pay nearly enough, which stung, as money was never something I had to worry about.

Marisol frowns, fluffing her kinky hair as she pulls down the mirror to look at herself before turning the car on. "What does that even mean?" 

Having borrowed his jacket, I pull it a little closer around my body; it is a little too big in size, yet it feels perfect for comfort and warmth. Sniffing the collar, I'm satisfied with my burgled good. 

Her tone and her gaze make me regret my questions, yet I feel as though I want to set things right before this baby gets here. 

I had lost Penelope; if she was ever even my friend to begin with, I didn't want to go through that same pain twice. 

"Well, I'm currently having sex with your ex-husband...? Verando wants me to marry him when we go to France. You're carrying his baby; this is like a bad television show." 

We pull out of the driveway, and her eyes rest on the road before us, though she appears composed as we accelerate at an almost uncomfortable speed.

"Are you asking if I like that you're having sex with him? I mean, no, but does anyone like the idea of someone fucking when they're not? Verando was my best friend, I know him too well to think that he and I will ever be a thing again. Truthfully, I have accepted that. Staying friends with him is enough, and seeing him happy... means the world to me. Verando doesn't do happy, Nic." 

She leans back into the seat, tugging at the black leggings material. "We're good, you and I. If you were a bad person, you wouldn't care so much about how I felt. You might be a total bitch sometimes, but aren't we all? You're letting me stay in his life when, with one word, he would send me away, and for that, I'm very grateful. It's been nice not to be alone for once. I wish I had known a long time ago what it was like to stop running." 

I reach over to touch her leg, and the car swerves, causing her to smack me roughly on the arm, and suddenly I know why Verando fears her. "Idiot! Don't touch people who are driving! Have you lost your damn mind?!"

Parking in the parking garage, I remind myself that allowing this woman to see me cry might trigger her prey instincts; I decide that if my arm were fractured, I'd let it to fall off before I admit how much it hurt. 

"Where would you like to go?"

"Shopping," Marisol tells me with a grin, clutching my arm as she drags me obediently down the sidewalk of the strip of stores. Shopping is my guilty pleasure in my lavish lifestyle, and it's the first experience I've had with it in this time period. But one fact brings me pause, this time, it's not my own money I'm spending.

 Glancing over my shoulder at the expensive car, I pull my lips into a thin line of restraint, and she slows her pace at my reluctance. "Que? What's the matter? Nic, I have two gay friends, and one is useless. You can't tell me you don't enjoy shopping. I've watched too much television to allow this dream to die."

I burst out laughing; she catches me off guard because, at least for me, it is true. "Excuse me?"

Marisol shrugs, almost sheepishly. "On television, they say gay men like to shop. They act like women? I don't know! But, you're making me feel weird now!" She practically pouts, making me snicker at her expense and the ridiculousness that someone's sexuality could make them more inclined to hobbies. 

Did I find men with my preference feminine? I suppose that was true, in a sense. But Verando and Victor blew that type out of the water. 

"Mmm, I can't say that's true for all gay men... do all women like to shop? Surely not?"

Deciding I've let her suffer long enough, I pull her closer, if nothing else than for her warmth in the chilly wind. 

"Adriam liked to shop, and so did Steffan, but that was about it. It was a much different time, though, I missed the last 'Gay' meeting, so I'm a bit behind-" 

Marisol doesn't comprehend my sarcasm and gapes at me; oh lord, she's just like Verando. My sides begin to ache, and my cheeks twinge with the grin that hadn't plastered my face for this long in centuries. 

She punches me, and I wonder if I'm going to die all over again. 

Finally, we settled on a cafe for coffee and cake after much deliberation on how we would spend the day and at what shops. "I just don't want to spend all his money."

She pats her rounded belly. "The thing about Doe is you could spend every last dollar he had, and he wouldn't say anything. We never had money growing up; I lived on the streets, and he had Mama's place. So thank you for looking out for him because he won't look out for himself, as proven by the car. If it truly bothers you, we can do what I used to do as a kid and try things on and leave. I'm not going to fit in much nowadays anyway; who the hell am I trying to impress? Or-" 

She pulls out her phone and presses a button. I eye her as it rings. 

"Hey -- Hey! Don't be a dick, I have your boyfriend! -- Fiance, sorry. Lord, you're pissy.-- Nic doesn't want to spend your money." 

She ratted me out! 

I reach for the phone, and she produces a knife, holding it towards me with narrowed eyes. 

"I might cut him, you need to teach him some manners. He's kind of rude-- Oh, for -- NO!" 

As if he could somehow see, Marisol stabs the knife into the table and crosses her arms over her chest in silent defeat.

"I told him you wouldn't care.-- Alright. No, you can't talk to him; he's mine for the day.-- Love you too." Her large heavily lashed eyes glance back towards me as she flashes me a smile, "There. I have an undisclosed limit; so no more guilt today. This is supposed to be relaxing, though, I never thought about this before but being pregnant would give me plenty of places to hide things. I could just steal--" 

"We're not stealing! How do I continue to forget that you're both delinquents?" 

Finishing my coffee, I stand with her, and she snags the remainder of my brownie with a wink, taking a rather unladylike bite. 

We gallivanted from store to store, and I can see why Verando preferred her over other women.

Cruising through stores, I marvel at the selection of fabrics and accessories, picking out only a few things instead of the armfuls I would have liked to have left with. In our time, clothes were so cumbersome, but here, there were various shirts, vests, jackets, sweaters, and anything in between. 

She has similar tastes in clothes as I do, and we fawn over fur coats and draw attention with our laughter over a variety of shoes that I never imagined existed. I tell her about my time in the Citadel when I raided all the closets and basked on a bed of expensive robes and skirts, dead set on bringing them with me. 

That time felt like a dream compared to now. 

We end up in a bookstore, sprawled in an aisle and partaking in any cover we can get our hands on for easy reading. In the end, it was the perfect place for sorting through our goods like children in sacks of candy. Cross-legged on the carpet, we get odd looks from the store clerk, who looks like she wishes we would leave. 

Drunk on laughter, I stand, running a hand through my hair. "We should probably find the car, at least, so we don't have to carry all this stuff. Hey. Is this an extra bag?" 

She grins, carefully standing. "I have sticky fingers." She teases, gathering up her parcels. I scold her for stealing, and she slowly becomes very still. Grabbing her arm to bring her back to reality, she yanks me to the ground and practically lands on top of me, crouched low to protect us both.

I notice the pop from a bookshelf behind me and see the book flip off the shelf as if it'd been yanked. "Shut up." She hisses. 

"What was-" Her hand lands over my mouth, and I recognize her expression. 

The glass explodes from the storefront as bullets rain down on us, and she drags me back with her to the rear of the store. I hear the garbled scream of the store clerk, losing her life to the assailant.