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lifts mylegs one on each of his shoulders. And his tongue is circling myclitoris again. I’m squirming, torn between wanting reprieve andbracing myself for the most pleasurable sensation I have ever felt.When I look down to see how he’s doing it, he’s gazing up at me.Then it happens, the pleasurable explosion and I fall back againstthe bed, clench the sheets and cry out. He’s inside of me beforethe sensation subsides. I can’t believe that a mere creature canmake me feel this way. His head is tilted back and he’s easilylifting my hips up off the bed to meet him as he slams into me overand over again, going deeper. The fangs are back. Every thrustmakes me want to come.

Something has changed here. I can’t stopmoaning and gasping, trying to bear the sharp and harmonicsparking.

“Shit!” he grunts staring at my face. Thenhe sweeps me off the bed and holds me tight to him as he unleashesthe loudest growl I have ever heard.

*

Chex says he can smell food nearby.

He taps himself on the nose and boasts, “Istill have this.”

My eyelashes are fluttering as I sitcross-legged on top of the bed. “You had fangs,” I say excitedly.“I saw them. You were a Selell when we…” I remember he called itsomething other than ‘making love’ and it definitely was different.It was more carnal and intense.

“Fucked,” he winks, finishing my sentence.“You see the difference?”

“I think so,” I drop my face, simperingbashfully.

He takes me by the chin and lifts my face.“You’re going to make me do it to you again, if you keep thatup.”

“Oh,” I hum.

“It sounds like you prefer the vampire,” heimplies.

I take a moment to ponder the insinuation.“I believe I do,” I exclaim, even surprised at myself.

His voice rings out in my favorite laugh.“All right, Beautiful,” he says, weaving his fingers between mine.He guides me into his solid chest, “I have to find a shower,” hekisses me quickly on the lips.

“How do you take a shower without thewaterfalls?” I ask.

He tilts his head curiously. “You’rescrewing with me, right?”

“No,” I say; however now I wish I were.

“You’ve never taken a shower in ashower?”

“I’m sorry, but I have not,” I sadlyadmit.

“Hey,” he whispers, once again lifting mychin up with a finger. “It’s not that serious. Come on, joinme.”

We’ve already figured out how the yellowstrip works. We already used it to fold the glass away from thewindow and open the room to the moon. Since Chex is not that faraway from it, he stretches an arm out to touch it.

“Where’s the shower?” he asks.

Two parts of the wall slide open to reveal asmall chamber. In the middle of the tiny room there are threelimestone steps that climb up to a round pillar that’s encased byglass.

Right above it, a light cuts on andilluminates the entire capsule.

“That’s our invitation, Baby,” he says andwalks me with him toward the contraption.

I follow him up the steps and into thecapsule. I gaze up to see thousands of tiny droplets of waterfloating down toward us. Our arms give way to the change in gravityand our hands are pulled apart, arms lift, drifting above our head.Even Chex is captivated by how the delightfully warm droplets crawldown our fingers, arms, heads, faces, necks, and chests, and maketheir way all the way down to our toes. The liquid coating feelssmooth and refreshing on my skin. I look at Chex and by the look onhis face he’s just as intrigued by the “shower” as I am.

After the last bit of water washes past ourfeet and disappears, he and I beam at each other in silence beforeerupting in laughter. What an unexpected surprise! But weimmediately turn quiet when racks with garments hanging on themmaterialize along the walls.

“The nonum’toks,” I whisper. “Theybrought garments.”

He narrows an eye at me in question. I cut atiny smile because he’s the one who’s new now. He smiles backbecause he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“They take care of the House of Benel,” Isay, answering his look.

“Really? What are they?” He’s very curiousto know.

“I told you—the nonum’toks.”

“Are they humans, water people, flyingshadows?”

“They’re more like humans.”

“Like humans?”

“Yes.”

I don’t know any other way to explain them.The nonum’toks are fashioned out of the stars of Earth.

“And they bring you clothes?”

“And food,” I add. “They take care ofus.”

“So they’re your servants.”

“They’re not slaves,” I say, disgusted bythe notion. “They desire to care for the house of Felix Benel.”

Chex examines me with furrowed eyebrows fora moment. I’m sure soon he will voice what he’s thinking, and I’msurprised about how eager I am to know.

“What the hell,” he whispers, and turns toface a section of clothing hanging from the racks. He steps downout of the shower and ambles over to where a number of black trenchcoats hang. “How the hell did these get here?” He lifts the cuff ofa coat and sniffs it. “This is mine,” he says, narrowing his eyesat me.

I’m relieved to see that his belongings arehere. This means that my father approves. There’s something aboutChex that remains a mystery to me. No being can merely walk througha portal and live unless their blood is connected to one of thepacts.

“How did they know where to find this?Nobody finds my shit.”

I hesitate because he looks so angry and itseems as if he’s directing this emotion at me. I’m trying not totake it personally, which would’ve been easier to do before we madelove. “There is always one who knows where you hide, Chex,” Ifinally reply.

Suddenly, the frown on his mouth fades intoa wry grin. I’ve amused him somehow. “You’re not going to get me tobelieve in that shit,” he says snidely.

“I already told you, belief is your choice,not mine.” Goodness, I’m being defensive.

He cuts his eyes off of me to rifle throughthe black coats that hang before him. Then he takes a hanger thatholds a pair of very black pants off the rack. “My favorite,” hesays as if I’m not here with him.

It was Father who taught me to neverinternalize the feelings and emotions of others, especially if Iknow I’ve done no wrong, and in this case I haven’t.

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