This made anything I'd ever felt as a human being pale by comparison. But it was my hand that left his back and traced his face, cupped his cheek, pressed my body deeper against his, so that I felt him stretched tight and firm under his clothes. With this much fear, with her, I don't trust my control. I knew he stripped.
But we weren't here to kill anybody, not yet. After all he was one. One moment that piece of me was curled warm and safe inside him, and the sensation of him inside me was like when we made love, as if even his beast were bigger and took up more room than mine. He was up on all fours, too, but unlike Jean-Claude he was thick and heavy against the front of his body.
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