Content Warning

Greetings and Salutations.
Because my stories have bite, they can contain content that isn't suitable for work or children. Not a lot of truly graphic sex or violence, but there are some questionable or heated posts. F-bombs are not uncommon, so watch your footing.

Monday, April 22, 2019

The Shalafae Archives - Breakfast

The morning after the meteor shower in Woo Her, something written more recently.


I stood behind him, dressed only in one of his robes, unsure of myself, unsure of how to behave. What we'd done last night...I couldn't let the memories form or I'd be blushing and trembling.

Lord Shalafae lounged on the terrace, half dressed, his hair loose around his shoulders. He looked more relaxed than I'd ever seen him, and the scene was more intimate than we'd ever shared before.

I'd seen him disrobed and disheveled before, but always after the trauma of another forced encounter. We didn't breakfast together, didn't lounge with each other. We certainly never slept in each others arms, and never were we passionate in his private chambers.

"Feel free to join me," he said without looking over his shoulder, gesturing at the plates of food on the glass table.

I shuffled closer, shaking away the last vestiges of sleep. Maybe I was still asleep, and this was just a dream. The aroma of bacon filled my nostrils, telling me I was very much awake. Very much alone on my master's private terrace, in his robe, after a night of...I refused to call it love making.

Alzair plucked up a piece of cantaloupe, popped it into his mouth, then licked long fingers. Long fingers that had explored my body, had pulled at my hair, had heated me to unbelievable levels.

Standing behind his chair, I rested my hands on his shoulders, fighting a painful blush. He was my master, my captor, not my lover. I was not supposed to enjoy this. I began rubbing his shoulders, focusing on the movements instead of my thoughts.

"How did you sleep?" Lord Shalafae never asked how I was feeling, but there was no mockery in his voice and genuine curiosity in the glance he turned over his shoulder to me.

I couldn't maintain eye contact, and lowered my gaze. "Well enough, my lord."

My voice was soft, barely audible, and it made him smile. "I see the morning has made you quiet again."

"How would you prefer me?" My voice remained soft, though it had a little more volume. I continued rubbing his shoulders, kneading at the muscles, thumbs caressing the base of his neck.

Shalafae sighed, then reached up to pull his long hair over his right shoulder. "I prefer the young lady who left that mark." He touched his neck, tracing the edge of a soft pink ring.

My insides clenched as a memory sprang to my mind's eye. The two of us locked together, me astride, and him pulling my head down to his neck. I'd bitten him, fierce and hard, and I'd drank deep of his energy. "Do you...want me..." I couldn't finish the question, and my hands paused.

"You could put your mouth on me again." His voice was a low, warm purr, inviting me closer, wrapping through my ears and to my core. He tipped his head slightly, stretching his neck tighter.

A shiver ran through me from head to toe. I remembered the flavor of him, the feel of his pulse against my teeth, the echo of his groan rattling through both of us. Jaw trembling, I bent to his neck.

Shalafae sighed again as I moved closer, and moaned when my mouth finally met his neck. The sound broke me from the moment, and I started to pull away. His hand raced to the back of my head, holding me in place. "Teeth, now," came his breathless command.

I couldn't resist. I was trained to obey him, to do as he said. I sank my teeth into his tender neck, digging deep, growling softly under my breath. It was so easy to obey him because I wanted to tear and feed.

He groaned, arching against my mouth, making a fist in my hair. I drew on his energy, pulling on his essence, swallowing and biting. I clawed at his shoulders, sliding a hand down his chest, trying to pull him close.

The taste of him was overwhelming. So dark and rich, so thick and powerful. I bit deeper, drawing harder, growling again. I wanted him entirely, wanted all of him.

"Morrigana," he crooned, tugging at my hair. "Enough."

I couldn't stop. Didn't want to. All I wanted was more, to never stop. I growled fiercely, grabbing his wrist with one hand, a handful of hair with the other. I hadn't fed this fiercely last night, hadn't disobeyed him when told to stop.

"Enough!" he snarled, yanking at my hair, pulling me free. I tasted my blood, head reeling, and could do nothing as he rose and pulled me into his arms. Shalafae kissed me, invading my mouth with his tongue, clawed at me as he pushed the robe from my shoulders.

I gave myself to him, kissing him back, pulling him free of his clothes. We sank to the floor, biting and kissing, groaning and panting. There was nothing tender about our joining, only ferocious passion. There were no doubts when we were together like this.

There never should be doubts, but they would always come back. Eventually, when I couldn't taste his soul on my lips.