More than once the Seer had said to him, "You are the first."

He wanted her secrets. Those that filtered from her mind and curled like a warm ghost between her legs at night when she lay awake. Was it him that she dreamt of? Was it he that inspired her fingers down into the collected dew snugging between the intimate niches? He craved to see inside her mind when she was base, skeptical of her insistence in that Athamé was an anomaly. For her pregnant body suggested otherwise -- that she was just as receptive to the natural expressions of passion as any other woman.

In his lap he held her, lulling her into laying bare her every hint of perversity to him. He swept her hair back over her shoulder. Whispered sweetly to her. Then beneath the print of his tongue, there was the tiny pulse of her carotid artery. The life force of flesh and mind. For several minutes he merely teased that spot, til his mouth enclosed the circle of whetted skin. It was behind his lids he sought through the dark haze, just a curl of sensation passed from mind to mind, spirit to spirit.

Dream with me. Dream of me.

The little suckle of flesh began as soothing. Nurturing a need of pleasure where her blood flowed just beneath the smooth surface. He longed to see inside the most primal part of her mind, where blood and sex and all things base mingled. His lover relented, and the Seer became as one seen. Her hand, small beneath his own, was guided down and down into those secret places. And made to elicit her own pleasure from herself.

I want to see what no man has seen, my seraph.

The woman's bristling excitement he could taste upon the tip of his tongue, as a slow bruise was drawn to the surface of her skin... broken blood capillaries, staining its initial strawberry mark. That would later turn vicious shades of purple and blue. And through the warm murky murk of her female mind, he sought her out in this secret little perversity, where already his own jaws had tingled and tightened, as if lavishing in the distinct taste of her passion all over again.

How easily did her dam burst, the moment Vedric trespassed upon her soul. A famished soul he was pleased to feed morsel by morsel. The resulting exultation came when his lover, just moments after the deed, did finally sink to her knees between his feet, clinging as she pleaded with him."Do not leave me."

Do not leave me.

She was the kind that a man could easily love forever.