The next day, Patience removed Anax unceremoniously and left to meet with Valon. A crick pinched her neck while a dull throb nagged her scalp. Last night Anax did not form his cushion as he normally did. Unfocused from her anger, the girl neglected to brew any tea. She would simply have to deal with her aches. Thankfully, the cool morning breeze soothed her scalp as she walked down the road.
Once Patience entered Keaton, the anger dissipated for the day as her task came to her mind’s forefront. As she had hoped, the hunter sat in the lobby of the inn. The girl let memories of her fight with Anax fall to the wayside as she prepared to discuss business. She greeted the man shyly. He stood up, returning salutations.
“Would you like to speak somewhere more private?” asked the man. Patience cocked her head, unsure if it was an invitation to his room for matters of flesh or for matters of confidential discussion. “Your preference.”
For a brief moment, Patience imagined herself in the arms of the man, an act of defiance against Anax, a flash of self-indulgence. However, she shook her head. She was hardly in the mood for intimacy today.
“Here is fine,” she said.
Wordlessly Valon offered her a seat on the sofa opposite of the armchair he had claimed. Patience obliged, relaxing into the soft velvet. A steaming cup of black coffee sat on the low table in the center. Instead of resuming his place, Valon stepped to a wide credenza against the far wall.
The inn provided coffee and tea in the lobby for guests to help themselves. The ornate sterling silver pots atop the credenza seemed too opulent for this little inn. Valon poured and delivered Patience a cup of tea, complete with a sugar lump and teaspoon on the side of the saucer. Alongside the pots lay a spread of cookies on a tray, of which the hunter picked a linzer sablé for the girl. He neglected to treat himself to any and remained satisfied with his black coffee.
“Thank you,” said Patience, dropping the sugar into her tea. It did not take much coaxing from the teaspoon for the lump to dissolve in the hot cup. She licked the spoon before placing it on the saucer.
“All right, what’s your plan?” Of course Valon would get right to business.
Patience nodded. She glanced around to ensure there were no eavesdroppers. Valon must have intimidated any other people away earlier. Even the front desk was unattended with only a service bell available. She proceeded to tell him her idea. As outlandish as her words sounded, Valon’s face stayed ever serious.
“Hm. That might work,” Valon grunted over his cup of coffee.
“I just need the clay,” said Patience.
“I’ll find a place. I’ll get you everything you need,” he assured.
Patience’s cheeks tingled.
The night before she was to set off for New Amstel, Patience’s head was a cauldron for a broiling stew of thoughts. She mostly worried about their plan, but a few slices of the previous days fell into the concoction. One particular piece was devoted to that thing that bit Schuler’s neck. She thought back to its peculiar shape and her whole body shivered.
A small corner of Patience’s mind nagged her to send a telegram out to St. Phocas, to ask witches she trusted the nature of what she thought she saw, if she saw anything at all. But she never learned the name of Heledd’s store, or her and Bing’s surname.
Patience grumbled and decided to address the telegram to Tandy Lusine. She forwent the address, assuming there was only one Tandy Lusine in St. Phocas. And as Patience would be away for an indeterminate number of days, she would have to arrange for someone to receive the witch’s response.
Anax failed to comment on her anxiety this time, even as she lay down to sleep. Perhaps it was to her advantage he was silent for once. Patience could plan without distraction. She barely missed his company with all her thinking to keep her occupied. However, she did notice the returned presence of his mist seeping over her scalp and neck. He once again cradled her head.
The morning of their departure, Patience watered the garden and set out multiple dishes for the chickens to drink from. Even though the almanac called for rain this week, she had to be sure. She scattered enough seed to last the chickens several days and hoped they could forage the rest should she be held up in New Amstel.
From the atelier, she took an old unused sketchbook and several pencils. The girl scanned her home once more before hefting her packed bag over her shoulder. She exited, locking the front door behind her. The monumental task loomed over the horizon, and she gazed down the road with steeled determination.
Patience rushed to Keaton, making record time, and caught Ned Wells as he was opening the general store. Tucking Anax under her arm to be as polite as possible, she asked him to receive any telegrams on her behalf while she was away. He agreed. Patience then ran to the telegraph office to send her message to Tandy.
As the clerk prepared to transcribe her message, it occurred to Patience that she never gave her name to the witches. She groaned. Time was quickly escaping her; she would have to meet up with Valon soon. Patience settled on calling herself “skull and scalp girl”, hoping the identifiers were enough. She listed the return address as Ned Wells’ store.
“There is no address for the recipient?” asked the clerk.
“I never learned one. But the Lusines are witches. The telegraph office there ought to know of them.”
“I’ll add ‘witch’ to the memo. Memos count toward your word total.”
“Very well.”
“Addresses don’t, by the way. So be sure to get that next time.”
“Yes. I will,” Patience huffed. She did not need to be lectured like a child this morning.
“And the message, miss?” asked the clerk.
Patience cleared her throat. She had rehearsed this in her head all the way to Keaton. “What is object? Stop. Small black paper T shape. Stop. Pointed end. Stop. Causes bug bite. Stop.”
The clerk nodded and noted everything down in a ledger in neat handwriting. He presented the sheet to the girl. Patience reviewed the information twice over before she gave the clerk her approval.
“I will send this out immediately,” said the clerk.
Patience paid and left. It was done. One small weight lifted from her chest. She then walked to the Comstock Inn and reapplied Anax in the lobby. She waited a few minutes before Valon emerged from a hallway, packed and ready to leave. Upon their meeting, Anax became decidedly silent.
Valon had hired a carriage to take them into Haverston. Patience squeezed next to him on the bench behind the driver. He was so close she could not even steal any glances at him from beneath Anax’s crown. Holding herself very still, she focused on the back of the driver’s head. A burst of cinnamon hair peeked from his cap. She studied the fiery strands all the way to Haverston.
The driver unloaded Patience’s bag first. She grasped the handles and surveyed the street as he then handled Valon’s luggage. The train station was just as busy as the day she left for St. Phocas. Between the people coming and going, she spotted a familiar face across the way.
“Schuler!” Patience yelled.
The musician’s head swiveled around as he stopped in his tracks. “Patience! I didn’t know you were in Haverston today!” he said once the girl rushed to him.
“Well, I’ll be leaving shortly. I have a train to catch.”
Schuler peered past her shoulder to see the flash of white hair in front of the station. The two men briefly locked eyes.
“Oh … you’re going off with him?” he said, tugging at his jacket.
“To New Amstel. For business,” Patience stated. “We have to go to the Manford Museum of Natural History.”
“Well, have a good trip,” he said flatly.
Patience could not help but feel a bit crestfallen. She thought they had mended things between them. Choosing to leave on a positive note, Patience turned the conversation.
“So what are your plans this week?”
“Celeste got engaged. The whole troupe and stage crew are holding a celebration for her on a barge out on the river,” said Schuler, training his attention to the side of his boot.
“Seems everyone is getting engaged these days, but that sounds like great fun!”
“Yeah, it’ll probably go late into the night … we’ll drink until we can’t see no more …”
“Don’t overdo yourself. Careful no one drowns,” Patience voiced.
“Ah, Ferguson will keep an eye on everyone. That Baptist won’t touch any of the stuff.”
Patience stepped toward Schuler and put a hand on his arm. “Just be safe.”
Schuler met her gaze with a small smile. “You too.”
The faintest grumble thrummed Patience’s neck.
She then hugged Schuler before running to Valon waiting at the street corner. When she looked back, Schuler had already vanished around the block. Patience sighed and came to Valon’s side. They began walking to the platform. He made no mention of Schuler.
After an hour of waiting, their train arrived. They presented their tickets and were led through a car to one with private curtained booths. Patience was shocked. She expected Valon to pay for her ticket, since this was his expedition and all.
However, she did not expect him to spend more than economy coach. Her back rested against an upholstered bench. The cushion of the seat made her regret not indulging in a premium ticket to St. Phocas, a much longer train ride than this trip would be.
They settled in as the train crept away from the station. Valon sat opposite the pair, holding his gaze outside the window. Patience kept her dialogue with Anax to a minimum in her continued vexation.
Still equally irate, Anax interacted very little as well. The tension lay thick in the car. Mouths kept shut. The thunderous rolling of wheels on rails underneath, the sole sound in their booth. That was until a refreshment trolley interrupted. It tempered the atmosphere with offerings of food and drink.
Valon smirked over a cup of coffee. “You two get in an argument or something?”
Patience did not dignify him with a response. Nor did Anax.
He chuckled, “Only two ways to resolve it.” He leaned in. “You need to get physical.” A finger rose for each option. “Either fight. Or fuck.”
The girl reeled from his crass language. A brush of red formed across her cheeks.
“And I’m betting you’d rather the latter,” Valon snickered.
“How can you say such things to a woman?” chided Patience.
“I’ve had enough experience with women to know what’ll get through to them.”
Patience scowled and prioritized the wrapped sandwich on her lap. Between small mouthfuls, she would catch glimpses of Valon staring out the window. As much as she suspected this entire trip to be a ploy, the girl found herself relieved for company. She felt less alone on her side of the crevasse dividing her from Anax.
A slight jostle of Valon’s arm and leg caught her attention. She could not tell if it was a bout of tremors or the rocking of the train. A part of her was always on edge in Valon’s presence, never knowing when he would experience an episode. His face imparted no indication of pain, so Patience flitted her gaze to her lap. With the sandwich finished, she closed her eyes and drifted in and out of sleep over the next few hours.
The train sped along the coast, the ocean in the far distance. As they came upon the metropolis of New Amstel, huge ships amassed on the water, their smokestacks spitting out dark plumes into the peach sky. Anax stared with a vested interest.
This was the farthest north Patience had ever been. Her father had come here plenty of times, contributing his talent to the natural history museum’s large collection. But he never took Patience along despite her childhood requests. As the city came into clearer view, Patience imagined herself losing her father in the titanic maze of buildings and streets. She could see why he had preferred not to travel with a small child here.
Patience pressed against the window in her own growing anticipation. The sky darkened, putting the sun to sleep. Electric lights began to illuminate the city. A million bulbs extended the waking hours of their domain. When the train slowed and entered the station, the windows shone as bright as they had that morning when they departed.
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The station was running at full capacity this evening as a number of trains had arrived. Both Patience and Anax gazed in awe at the sheer number of bodies swarming the platforms as they stepped out of the car. If the crowd did not make them feel insignificant enough, there was the station itself.
The pair felt minuscule under the weight of the intricate iron girders buttressing a vast roof over the platforms. Once they entered the grand terminal, they completely froze while marveling at the enormous glass oculus centered in the incredibly tall ceiling of the massive building.
“Be careful of pickpockets,” Valon warned.
While navigating through the throng, a rather dirty character bumped into Patience from behind. But all she heard from him was a yelp of pain. The man melted into the crowd as quickly as he appeared.
“Got one,” snickered Anax.
Patience rolled her eyes before checking the status of her belongings. Everything was still in place.
Valon hired a carriage to take them to their hotel. Enrapt by the sights they passed, Patience nearly forgot her company altogether. Towering buildings crawled past them, people moving in masses along their bases. Storefronts and illuminated vignettes of busy dining rooms scrolled across their vision in a tangible picture show. The facades they passed became more prim and tidy as they traversed block after block.
Patience lurched forward when the carriage came to an abrupt stop. The traffic on the street was hectic, full of vehicles and people. She assumed they were close to a city hub. Valon motioned for them to get off, for the hotel was within sight. Patience followed the man to the warm welcome of the monolith of stone and glass.
Inside, chandeliers bathed the lobby in gold light, their reflections crisp in the polished marble floor. Bellhops shuttled racks of luggage at the heels of finely-clothed guests. Patience gripped her bag and shrank into her jacket, feeling underdressed. She was stunned Valon did not book a cheaper place.
He led them to the front desk, a hefty walnut ship atop a white sea veined with charcoal. The girl stared at the inlaid patterns of other kinds of stone forming a cold, hard rug below their feet. Behind the desk clerks was an elegant mural depicting a lush garden in mosaics. Patience and Anax attempted to drink in every detail of the opulent lobby while waiting for Valon.
“Here we are, Mr. Dibra,” said the clerk, sliding keys onto the desk’s green granite top.
Patience studied the paper tags tied to their hotel keys. “Our rooms are next to each other?” she gulped.
“What of it?” grumbled Valon, turning to leave the desk. Patience was not paying for the trip so she figured she had little to complain about. Sleeping this close to the enemy might work in her favor. Valon would only be steps away, close enough for her to monitor his activity should there be reason to suspect any perfidy.
“Am I to remain on you through this whole trip?” Anax whispered.
“I’ll stow you in my bag when we go to the museum and potter’s,” Patience said coldly.
“Quit mumbling and let’s get to the rooms,” Valon barked, hefting his bag across his back. Patience swallowed and fell into stride behind the man.
They rode in an elevator up to their floor. Patience and Anax both marveled at the contraption. Their caged transport rattled upward, leaving Patience’s stomach on the ground. She shuddered at the feeling. The girl silently thanked divine forces when they stopped and she was able to step onto the immovable painted floor on their level.
Down the hall, they reached their rooms. Valon unlocked his first. Sitting on his bed were two brown packages. He incuriously regarded them and Patience surmised this was a delivery he was expecting.
Patience then entered her own space. It was certainly the nicest room in which she had ever stayed. Electric lights illuminated the hazel wallpaper and made the brassy fixtures and polished wood furniture shine. A fluffy feather bed commanded the center. Patience flung herself upon its downy quilt, her eyes instantly felt sullen, ready for sleep.
“Here.”
Patience stiffened, realizing she had forgotten to close the door behind her. In the doorway was Valon. Her face burned, embarrassed to have reveled in something as mundane as a nice bed.
“What do you want, Valon?” Patience asked, hurriedly sitting upright.
“This is for tomorrow,” said the man as he extended a block in his hand.
It was clay. This must have been the package he received. Patience had thought they would go out in the morning and visit a supplier to procure it. Impressed with his initiative, she walked over to take it into her care.
“Not too heavy is it?”
It was a considerable weight. Valon had held it up single-handedly with no trouble at all. Unable to match his show of strength, Patience’s arm wavered slightly as she carried it to the side table. It would fit in her bag along with Anax, but she dreaded the burden her shoulder would suffer the next day.
“I’ll be able to manage,” she croaked.
“And this,” he said, lifting up his other arm.
Gripped in his fist was a sack. Patience took it, peering inside. It was full of wood shavings and sawdust.
“To pack the replica.”
He really had thought of everything ahead of time. The girl set the sack next to her nightstand, a little disappointed she would have to pour that into her clean carpetbag.
“Hungry?” asked Valon.
Hours had passed since the sandwich on the train and suddenly Patience sensed her empty stomach. “Are you inviting me to supper?”
“Doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Want to eat or not?”
“Very well,” she said. New Amstel had streets aplenty for them to explore, enough to command Anax’s attention the entire trip. Patience hoped it would sufficiently distract him. She cared for him. She truly had. But ever since their dispute, a divide had come between them. Options sat by a scale, waiting to be weighed. Patience needed time to think, and silence was a good conductor of thought.
Glimmering lights garnished the city blocks, painting a pleasant veneer over Patience’s muddled situation. The city sights kept Anax occupied. Valon’s presence kept Anax behaved. However, a relationship could not be built upon bribes or threats. Patience could not travel the world to keep the skull entertained. She could not have a threat continuously loom to keep the skull in line.
Anax had said he enjoyed her company. He enjoyed her. She was his pet. Patience wondered if he would be less jealous had he a weaker affinity for her. Then again, the possessive qualities might be symptoms of the culture surrounding life-donors.
The weight of all these thoughts bore down heavily. The girl hung her head between sagging shoulders. She still cared for the skull. But she knew she had to draw a line somewhere, lest she become a true host without a will of her own anymore.
Valon had to repeat himself on a few occasions during their outing before Patience could respond to his queries. They eventually settled into a pub where Valon ordered a lobster, and her a baked crab pottage. Supper passed by silently, the girl mentally absent. She was aware enough to enjoy her food, however.
The way back to the hotel was uneventful. It was for the best that Valon was spared any episodes. They returned to their floor quietly. At his door, the hunter watched Patience unlock hers.
“I’ll wake you in the morning,” he said.
“Thank you. And thank you for dinner. Have a good night,” she murmured without looking up. The clacking of a lock announced that Valon had already entered his room.
Distracting herself, Patience indulged in a bath. Alas, she was interrupted by two chattering women who paid little attention to Patience’s clothes folded on the shelf outside the bath chamber. Although visibly shaken from seeing a skull bobbing above the water, their need to gossip prevailed. They subjected Patience to their loud prattling by the sinks, echoed by the tiled room.
But even after the pair left the bathroom, a string of other guests would come and go, using the sinks and water closets, bemoaning the occupied tub. It was not until Patience was sufficiently clean that the bathroom was hers alone. At the very least, she could brush her teeth in peace.
That night Patience tossed and turned in bed. No matter what she did, sleep evaded her. Even though the bed felt wonderful, her body resisted. Anax was quiet. His refusal to comment spurred on her tumultuous mind. She was now craving any spur of the moment input to cut the silence. Her throat flexed to utter Anax’s name, but she let out a breath instead. She would not bend. She would not be the one to cede first. The girl faced the wall between her and Valon’s room. She inhaled and slipped Anax from her head.
Assuring Anax’s secure storage behind the vent grate, Patience ran her fingers along the brass before she left. Soft footsteps took care to avoid triggering creaks from the floorboards. The girl held her breath as she knocked on the door. A shuffle of feet sounded, followed by a click. The door opened to reveal Valon shirtless, and with a less than pleased expression on his face.
“I-I can’t sleep,” Patience uttered, skirting his gaze.
“What do you want from me to help that?” grunted Valon.
She shrugged.
Seconds passed before Valon heaved a sigh and flicked his head over his shoulder. He held the door open for the girl as she timidly walked into his room. The soft lamplight disclosed a table and two chairs nestled in the corner. By the window was a plush armchair on which Valon hung his long coat.
“Well?” The man casually reclined onto his bed. He leaned his back against a stack of pillows and rested an arm on his raised right knee. The left leg fell away from his center, pulling his pajama pants taut over his groin.
Not having moved since the door closed behind them, Patience stood shyly by the dresser next to the egress. “I want to know this isn’t an elaborate plan to take Anax,” Patience expressed. She flicked her eyes up to meet him.
Valon leaned ever so slightly forward, wide pupils set inside cold rings. “This museum specimen exists. You have my word as a hunter and as a gentleman.”
The moment hung in the air. The seriousness cut thick in Valon’s words. He meant what he said. Despite that, Patience failed to stifle a snicker and a soft sound of cracking ice broke over the girl’s palate.
Valon’s face soured. “You mock me?”
Patience suppressed a smile. “It’s just,” she squeaked, “you think yourself a gentleman?”
“I’m no white knight, but chivalry is not entirely foreign to me,” Valon snorted.
“I’m sure you’ve extended that chivalry to many women in the past.”
“Oh yes,” he said with a sniff, “and a few men as well.”
His admission caught Patience off guard, but she refused to fluster. She held pause for a few moments before mustering her courage to ask, “Do you enjoy bedding me?”
The hunter scoffed. He relaxed into the bed, crossing his arms. “I’ve had you more than once, haven’t I?”
Patience ducked her head and scratched her arm. Her eyes dared not meet Valon’s as they firmly trained on the rug by the bed. A heat rose in her face.
“A chat can’t be the only reason for you to visit me so late at night,” he said coyly. Shifting his legs, the man revealed an outline of his hardening length. Steel eyes caught Patience sneaking a look. His trap was inescapable.
Her heart thumped harder than it had since the moment Valon opened his door. She knew she could not resist the lust foaming within. Her trysts with this man were the sweetest of indulgences. There was always a note of danger, and coupled with his ferocity, it made the fruit all the more tempting and satisfying when savored.
Patience slowly climbed onto the bed, kneeling beside his supine body. He placed a rough hand above her knee and slid up her nightgown. With his other hand, he pulled down her drawers. “Show me what you want,” he demanded.
Patience reached her hand down her mound and spread her bottom lips with two fingers. Valon smirked upon sight of her swollen folds. Freeing herself of her underwear and nightgown, she came to rest beside the man, head upon his chest.
Her hand traveled over his hard stomach to arrive at the bulge in his pants. Winding her fingers underneath the cloth, she grasped his turgid length. The tip of his cock pulsed and flared in her grip.
Valon groaned, bringing an arm around Patience to clutch her backside. He scooped her on top of him. “Go on, get what you desire.”
Steady hands slipped the pants and underwear from the man’s waist. Patience pulled them all the way off his feet as she slinked down his body. His clothes fell atop hers in a heap at the foot of the bed.
Slowly she slid her way back up, stopping briefly to plant a wet kiss on the tip of his cock. It responded in kind with a twitch. Valon grabbed Patience’s waist to bring her before him, her legs spread wide to straddle his torso.
With slow, deliberate movements, Valon’s fingers opened her gap and entered. He pressed his thumb to her clit, forcing Patience to crunch forward with a moan. The man began to work his fingers, twirling his thumb on the outside in tandem.
She panted, whipping her head forward. A strand of wet dripped onto his front. Losing her strength to kneel over him, Patience eased to sit on his stomach. Valon withdrew his hand and smeared her fluids down his length.
Still lost in the ghostly sensations of his fingers, Patience ground into Valon’s abdomen. Standing pert between her cheeks was the man’s cock. She teased it as she stretched against him, like a cat after waking from a nap, raising her backside into the air. The head grazed her slit and sent a pronounced tingling through her pelvis, heightened by the slick of her juices. She bit her lip to stifle a moan.
Demurely meeting his eyes, Patience lowered herself atop Valon’s cock. The tip nudged her entrance. She issued a few testing bounces, half expecting the man to grip her waist and slam her down over his length. But Valon remained relatively still. She gave him an inquiring look.
“I said get what you desire,” he stated, unblinking.
In a dangerous breach of conduct, Patience huffed and rolled her eyes. Before she realized what she had done, she felt Valon’s body tense underneath her. A hand shot to her jaw, bringing her to face his ferocious gaze.
“Do I need to show you what you want?” he growled.
Unsure of what else to do, Patience lunged in to envelop his mouth in hers. Breathy moans escaped her lips as he took control. His tongue spread its dominion inside. His hands crept down to bat his cock against her gap before breaching her chamber. The force sent a groan out of Patience’s mouth.
“This is what you came for, right? Can’t sleep without getting filled, huh?” Valon grunted over his vigorous thrusts.
All Patience could manage in reply were eager nods, any utterances got lost in needy mewls. The heady sensation of his cock sliding between her walls solely commanded her attention. She sat upon his pelvis, rocking into his stiff heat. She barely noticed when the hunter began slapping at her shoulders to usher her off of him.
Alarmed, Patience reeled back to see the onset of a barrage of tremors. Valon arched into the stack of pillows, his neck stiff and rigid. He gritted his teeth as his limbs seized and shook. The bedding crumpled under his quaking form. In a rush of emotion, Patience threw herself on Valon. She hugged him tightly against the bed until the episode passed.
Heavy, tired breaths left his mouth as the man’s body finally relaxed. Patience settled beside him, gingerly stroking his arm experiencing its last shudders. She watched his fluttering eyelids. The bob of the knot in his throat reaching his snow-white scruff before fleeing again as he swallowed. His sculpted chest rising and falling. They lay there in silence for a sacred few minutes.
“Do you pity me?” croaked Valon, gaze fixed on the ceiling.
“I—” stuttered Patience, “I do feel sorry about your condition.”
“Is that why you give yourself to me?”
“Well—I said I did want to help you in any way I can. If letting you have my body counts, then I’ll allow it.”
Valon ground his teeth.
“But I am genuinely attracted to you,” Patience affirmed. “Even in your current state, I cannot deny my lust.”
The man rolled his head over to lock eyes with her. The grim frown he wore mellowed into a tight, thin line. “I appreciate your honesty.”
“And me? Do you pity me? Disfigured and wrangled into the claws of a beast,” whispered Patience.
“No,” he answered, “I like your mettle.” His thick fingers wrapped around her wrist. “And you feel quite nice.”
A blush spread over Patience’s nose. She leaned in to kiss him. To her surprise, he did not refuse her.
He brought his arm around to pull her atop him once more. “Now where were we?”
She breathed, “Are you sure?”
“You tell me,” he rumbled.
Patience was amazed to find the man stiff as though the past several minutes had never occurred. A hunger flared in his eyes. He would have it sated one way or another. He shoved into her and continued where they had left.
By now it was quite late into the evening, but Patience had lost all track of time. The one thing that mattered at the moment was the rising heat inside her matched only by Valon’s energy. Patience writhed against the hunter’s solid body, rubbing into his pelvis. She pressed her head against his chest, the snowy hair brushing her cheek.
Hands firmly held her ass in place as he thrust into her hole with abandon, propelling her toward the point of no return. Patience rode into his waist until her loins could handle no more and released. She moaned with her mouth over his nipple as she pushed every last ounce of heat out of her sex.
Satisfied with her reaction, Valon reached a hand behind her head and grasped her braid. He twisted Patience around onto her back so that he loomed over her jerking body. Valon then sheathed his length up to the hilt. Wedged between her walls going through their final contractions, his cock pumped. He growled as he spilled his seed into her cavity, relishing in the added lubrication with fading thrusts. They lingered a while until they both beat their last pulse.
“Had your fill? Got what you needed?”
Patience wearily nodded. He gently lifted away to rest by her side. Their eyes did not meet, but they lay together on their backs. For a few moments, they bathed in the euphoria that eventually ebbed away.
Valon rose to wipe himself clean at the washstand. Patience followed him out of bed, pausing to feel their combined juices slide down her thigh. She bent over to pick up her clothes. Valon snuck a quick slap of her ass.
“Now off to bed with you,” he sniffed.
Patience sent him a smirk just as her head popped through her nightgown’s neck-hole. She sauntered over to the door and left. A yawn escaped her, but the night was not over as she still needed Anax to clean her of Valon’s seed.
Only grumbles bubbled around her ears as the skull met his task. A small part of Patience wished he berated her instead. The apathetic silence crushed her the most. She returned to her own bed feeling like nothing at all.