Go take care of yourself. You trust me. His power danced along my skin, caught my breath in my throat. It's like the night is breathing your power.
I wasn't sure what to say to that. And I felt, heard, knew, that underneath the lust was sorrow, and an almost certain knowledge that he might never get to do this again, once my head cleared. He gave a small smile, barely more than a flex of his mustache. I saw his lips move, but couldn't hear what he said.
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