Phoenix Maplewood bad moon rising

To her utter surprise, he drew close once more, cleaning the tears from her face. She blinked, stupefied, but was entranced by his touch, giving no resistance as he pulled her toward him. Indeed, she let out a shuddering breath, her heart racing as he spoke into her ear, ruffling the delicate airs that lined the black shell.

"Yes," she answered, her voice barely a whisper. "Yes. . .of course." She was scared to touch him again, not knowing how he would react, though she so badly wanted to. He was warm for one so scrawny, and his weight against her was an odd comfort. This was different than anything she had ever experienced, a maiden voyage into macabre sensuality.