“I've given it to your parents as well. And to the rest of the family. It will help you reach my sisters, Lucifer and Tera. They will come. And when they do, Hell will pay.”

He nodded quietly and slipped the card into his back pocket.

“Good. That's done." She sighed gustily. "I haven't been this nervous in years."

"You have stage fright?"

She waved away his incredulous question.

“Not really. Some. Screw it. Yes. I'm frightened. Before, all I had to lose was my own life.

Now," she hugged him tight, her breasts flattening against his chest.

“I have a lot more at risk."

Suddenly he felt a small, hot hand resting on his erect cock. When he looked down, her eyes were twinkling, all sign of her prior anxiety fled. "Which is why," she husked sexily, “I need to forget about all that for a while, and concentrate on your beautiful body instead." With frightening ease, she had him naked from the waist down. "Why don't you put down that silly script, and fill your hands with something else instead?"

“ALL right." With a casual flick of his wrist, he deposited the script on his bed, then unbuttoned the front of her blouse. Her breasts all but spilled into his hands, warm golden flesh with dark bronze, tip-tilted nipples. He cupped them gently, his thumbs moving from the inner curves to the firm nipples and back again, then leaned forward to brush them with his lips.

"Lovely," she groaned. As her hand closed around his cock, he wasn't sure if she was talking about his caresses or his manhood. But he was too far gone to care. Her skin felt Like burning silk around his rod, at once incredibly delicate, but also on fire with carnal heat. He closed his eyes, fighting for control, as her thumb swirled around his glans, coating him with his own secretions.

"Men." Her voice was fondly exasperated as she read his thoughts.

“Why do they always have to pretend to be supermen? I'm trying to make you cum, Alex. I'm not going to be angry if you shoot off quickly. The opposite, rather. If I can't make you cum, I'm going to start to think that there's something wrong with me.”

“There isn't a single damn thing in the world wrong with you, and you know it," he replied. "I don't know," he continued, answering her question while Leaning in for a kiss. "I guess its years of reading about how men are supposed to make women climax before we do. If we don't, we're failures."

"The only thing I need from you, gorgeous man, is enough warning to get my mouth around your beautiful prick, so I can swallow your seed. My orgasm can wait."

He frowned as an unpleasant thought struck him. He pulled away slightly.

“What?" Althea asked, knowing him well enough by now that she could sense his hesitation.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, trying to pose his question in the most tactful way possible. His hands still held her breasts, the glorious dark nipples looking, in his eyes, Like tight-furled rosebuds, not quite ready to flower.

Maybe that's what she is. A flower, waiting for sunlight.

"Is that how you get your power?" He made an abortive gesture, trying not to offend her.

“Does the death of sperm somehow give you what you need, like you're some kind of superhot vampire?" He winced as the graceless words emerged, and wanted to punch himself in the mouth. Idiot.

“No." she shook her head, the tumbled tresses of her blond hair framing her lovely face.

“Not even a little bit. Not even close. Of course, your sperm will die inside me. They all do.“ For a moment she looked haunted by an ancient grief.

“But that's not where the power comes from. It comes from the...the spiritual part of the exchange. The greater the bond between us, the more power I gain.

“When I first entered your mother's mind, I was on the verge of dissolution," she continued, pumping his rod slowly. "I took whatever I could get from her, even if it was the tiny bit of pleasure she received when she touched her breasts when she was changing clothes.