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Skylar

Elanor. The name is ringing in my head as I lean back, staring at Dmitri.

"Elanor. Your girlfriend," I state, rather than ask him.

"Not quite. We don't really use that term in werewolf circles. What she is...is not my chosen mate," Dmitri says, staring back at me emotionlessly.

"But you sleep with her, and you bring her as your plus one to major events like this one." I am trying to get my point across. I assume he sleeps with her, his evasiveness prodding me for confirmation by stating it as a fact he can deny. I really hope he denies it. My heart has dropped to the bottom of my stomach as I sit waiting for his answer.

"Exactly. She is there to play that part when needed, and vice versa. We have that arrangement. Living as long as we do, it makes sense to have someone to do these things with."

I'm not sure why, but I feel like vomiting. That there is someone in his life, someone he is sleeping with and goes to events with, like normal couples do, disturbs me. I feel jealous. And really hurt.

"Do you love her?" I'm holding my breath, waiting for his answer.

"I'm not sure, I haven't really thought about it. We aren't a couple, Skylar. We are more like what you humans call friends with benefits."

I can feel tears start pricking, threatening to spill out.

"I need to shower," I mumble, rising and heading to the bathroom, just as tears start falling from my eyes.

I don't understand my feelings. I feel heartbroken. Heartbroken about something that I have no right to be. I close the door behind me, quickly turning on the shower so that Dmitri cannot hear the sob that escapes. I want to be special to him. I want to be with him. Fuck, I'm busy falling for this guy. More tears stream down my face at the realization. No, no. Not happening, I say to myself, getting up off the floor on which I had sat as this breakdown started. I vigorously strip, flinging my clothes into the wash basket, nearly knocking it over.

My shower is quick and determined. I will not let this happen. No falling for this guy. No ways. I could stop these feelings, even crush them. There was no way I was going to fall for a guy like this. A Lycan, who lived for decades, had a girlfriend who he denied was exactly that, and who gives me the best orgasms of my life. Yip, not happening.

I dry myself off and stand in the walk-in closet, wondering what to wear. I choose a red and brown bohemian dress with an elastic waist and sleeves. It comes just below my knees. I pair this with brown ankle boots. I swop out the leather strap bracelets, which need to dry as I forgot to take them off in my haste to shower and replace them with a variety of brightly colored beaded bracelets. I put on my black obsidian necklace, perhaps subconsciously hoping it will ward off further feelings developing from my side towards Dmitri.

I shake my hair out, deciding to leave it loose. When I look at myself in the mirror, feeling good. I need to be strong and just keep Dmitri at a distance. He mustn't know how I feel. I take a deep breath and release it before leaving the closet. Dmitri is still sitting at the table, sipping a fresh cup of coffee.

"Are you okay?" he asks, looking at me as he takes in my appearance. His eyes darken as he skims my face, down my torso, all the way to my feet, before meeting my gaze again.

"Fine," I say cheerily as I walk over and pour myself another coffee. I join him at the table. "Okay, so...what happened early this morning definitely cannot happen again, considering what you have just told me. Agreed?" I try to sound jovial as I say this, not wanting him to suspect how I really feel about the situation and him.

"About last night," he says, not acknowledging agreement to my statement, "you behaved pretty oddly after your orgasm...and mine." His eyes are glued to me. "Does this have anything to do with you being a virgin?"

I can feel the heat erupting from my cheeks, a blush in full force. "I'm not a virgin," I say, eyes wide, lying straight to his face.

"You are, I can smell it. And the way you blush. You're too innocent. You forget I am a Lycan. I can tell when someone is lying," he gestures to me. "You don't lie well. Your heartbeat, the way you are swallowing, and the fidgeting give you away."

I don't really know what to say to that. I'm caught out, so is denying it really the route to go? "You can smell I'm a virgin," I say incredulously. "And what exactly does a virgin smell like?"

"You have an almost indistinguishable rose scent. Humans can't smell it, and only trained or highly sensitive species, such as myself, can identify it."

"I can't see it on me," I murmur, more to myself, as I lift my arm, still only seeing the autumn leaf brown, faint pastel yellow, and apple green, joined by my binding marker. I don't see rose on me.

"See it?" he asks curiously.

"Nothing," I say, dropping my arm on the table. That's a story for another day. "So, yes, I'm still a virgin." I look back at him expressionlessly, while inside I'm cringing. "Look, it's not by choice. I've been close twice before, first with Bobby when I was eighteen," I continue rambling, shifting in my seat from embarrassment. "We were fooling around at his parents' place, and he was going down on me. I had an orgasm, and the next minute, he was passed out. It was so fucking embarrassing. I thought it was from the beer he drank before we started, you know, or maybe he didn't get enough air while he was down there," I chuckle, trying to make light of the situation.

"Anyway, he didn't wake up for fifteen hours. Imagine trying to explain the situation to his parents. He was in the hospital, and the doctors said it looked like he was in a coma. Anyway, that story spread like wildfire through the town I was living in. You can just imagine what stories kids make up. Some were nice, like 'her vaginas so good it sent him to an early grave,' but others were not nice, 'it smelled so bad he passed out'. People are mean. Anyway, my aunt, uncle, and I ended up moving because of the situation. It kind of just put me off being intimate with anyone for a long time. Very long time."

"The next time I tried was when I was twenty-five. I had a boyfriend, Daryl. We had been going out for six months, me trying to avoid the whole intimacy thing until eventually I felt like I couldn't anymore. And part of me didn't want to. I want to have someone touch my body, I want to pleasure them, have them pleasure me. It's not like I don't have sexual feelings," frustration coating my tone and mimicked in my hands thrown up in the air. "Anyway, he was doing what you were doing to me last night-"

"Not like I was doing," Dmitri interrupts, a small growl at the end of his sentence. He looks mad. "Don't compare me to him or anyone before," anger clear in his tone.

"Okay, you know what I mean. He was pleasuring me with his fingers," I say exasperatedly, looking at him to see if my rephrasing calmed him down or not. Not. Men and their egos.

"When I climaxed, he slumped down next to me, unconscious. He was out for eighteen hours. Just like with Bobby, it looked like Daryl was in a coma. At that point, I realized it must be me. Long story short, we broke up. I swore off being intimate. Moved far away, where no one knows me. And here we are."

There is a long pause before Dmitri finally says anything. "First, let's just clear one thing up. There is nothing wrong with the way you smell. If I could bottle the scent of your arousal, I would. It's intoxicating." His eyes turn black as he speaks, a huskiness coating every word. My cheeks are on fire, but a larger part of me is relishing the fact that my arousal turns him on so much.

"Second, have you seen a doctor about this?" Dmitri continues, his eyes changing back to their normal color. I use normal loosely.

"Well, Dmitri, what exactly was I going to say? 'Oh, hey doc, so every time I orgasm, my partner hits comaville. What do you think the issue is?' Not happening," I say sarcastically.

"Did you not think that the same thing could happen to me, Skylar?" His words cause the blood to drain from my face.

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