Ankyra Sound of faces pressed to bloodstained panes

He rested for a short time. There was no satiating her, though - and soon, with some prompting and attention, he was on his feet again and doing what he could to put his body's worn sensations out of his mind.

Firefly had a job to do. A purpose. There was an agreement in place for Erzulie to use him as she needed, and so he would do as instructed - charmed of course, pleased to please, so it wasn't like he didn't enjoy himself.

Whatever she wanted, he would provide. It left the man growing closer to the woman with each union of their body; every breath, every heart beat, and he was finding himself merging more than their bodies together. Firefly had always held an affinity for the witch-woman and this, this tryst or this arrangement whatever you may call it, pulled him in to a state of pure adoration for Erzulie.