Interlude
She will be the death of me. It took everything in my power to leave her room, to see her bared before me and not caress every inch of her flesh.
But as I stood in the corridor, I heard her quiet whimpers.
Her pheromones are powerful, the scent of rakiram blossoms and earthy cosonise filling me with need.
I almost tore down the door, but if I did, I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself.
I must overcome my selfish needs, or I might frighten her beyond repair.
I could hurt her. I need to be inside her, need her writhing with pleasure underneath me, but she will never forgive me if I hurt her again.
I do not know how much more I can take, how much longer I can last, but I tore myself away from her quarters, letting her pleasure herself in peace, knowing she was thinking of me.