13/03/2026 09:52

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I want a life, Anita. I squeezed out my hair, wound a towel around it, and was trying to towel off enough for a robe, when the door sprang open. He drew, slowly, from the wound, his mouth crimson with my blood. I knew what I wanted.

He looked like he'd argue, and Requiem said, There are many ways to guard someone's body, Graham. I got the spare T-shirt from the bottom drawer and dried off with it. My mother had been wonderful, but she'd died. He let go of my hair, and his hands touched my hips, and he began to ride our rhythm, the cat's and mine.