Chapter 22: Tangled Threads & Secrets

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"I'm okay, Fizz. I promise! Listen, I'm sorry I ran off like that but it was just...too much! I needed time away from everything to think and calm myself down. I had a full blown panic attack seeing...seeing him again. I'm with Fizzarolli, and I'll be home in a few hours okay? Just catch a ride with... with D-Damien and I'll see you when I get back. I'll bring apology cookies."

Samara hung up the phone and sighed, leaning back on the couch. She peeked through her lashes at Fizzarolli, who was watching her intently. He spoke, looking pensive.

"Why did you tell him you'd be a few hours? You're calmed down enough now, shouldn't you head back? Talk this out with him too?"

She shrugged, but her tail was flicking anxiously against the cushion, much like a cat's.

"About that. You know I have no idea what to do about my convoluted, messy, absolutely fucked love life. But, I was thinking, about how we only had one night and it was only because of Mammon pawning me off, again, and I have been kind of hoping every single time I see you... why hasn't it happened again?"

Fizzarolli jerked back, surprised. That was not what he had been expecting to be on her mind now of all times.

"I, uhh... Well, it never seemed to be the right time. The first time I saw you after that night in person, Fizz was missing and you were crying. Then, you almost died and were recovering, and after that we were both swamped with work, now this whole ex fiancé fiasco, and I never felt like distracting you with just one more thing."

Samara scoffed at him.

"Dude. You are the best kind of distraction if anything. I'd love a 'one more thing' with you!"

"Yeah?"

He scooted closer to her, his surprise beginning to give way to hunger.

"Yeah."

She breathed when he was inches away from her, and had leaned his head in to place a searing kiss just below her ear.

"Well, I guess we could do one more thing...or two...or twenty..."

He yanked her to him roughly, and her startled yelp was swallowed by his mouth moving fervently against hers, his deft fingers already working her clothes off of her. When she was down to only her panties, he shoved his hand beneath the thin fabric, diving his searching digits between her folds. She was already slick and ready, but he wasn't going to waste a single second by rushing this, as much as his cock demanded that he pound her into the cushions right this instant.

When his fingers found what they sought, that oh so sensitive bud of nerves, Samara cried out, her toes clenching and her hips bucking into his hand. With what sense she could retain under his ruthless touch, which was currently building up a steady tidal wave that would soon sweep her away into bliss, she clawed at his outfit as well. He chuckled darkly and obliged her, stopping his sweet torture for long enough to strip down and then return to the task at hand. He rubbed slow circles with his thumb over her clit that sent almost painful throbs through her loins.

Gazing at him, Samara still marveled at his ruby skin. Imps were just so pretty in that regard. It was always one of her favorite colors. There were a few marks and bruises interrupting the scarlet canvas, as well as white patches that she'd been told were actually scars, and she frowned. She knew those kinds of marks all too well. She still hadn't found the courage to ask about his robotic limbs. She figured that if he wanted her to know what happened, he'd bring it up eventually.

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