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I don’t know what I feel. I trust him. It’s crazy, but I do. He is the embodiment of yearning, my daydreams given form. But I’m terrified of what he’ll show me. How many fucked up things in my life are about to fall into place? “I don’t know.”

“There’s no reason to be afraid. I won’t force you. I’ll follow every order you give me, as long as it brings you closer to rapture.”

Fuck . Those words alone light every synapse in my brain. Euphoria and desire flicker through me. I want him to devour me. “Show me. I trust you.”

His eyes flare yellow. His hands find the small of my back and pull me in, and I’m already helpless in his grasp. “Good. I want you to use me until there’s nothing left. In this body, I exist only to bring you pleasure. And I want to give you the infinite universe.”

Orpheus kisses my neck, and everything fades to a neon haze of pleasure.

The penthouse is gone, and all that’s left is sensation: Orpheus’s mouth on my skin, his teeth dragging along my collarbone, his fingers in my hair.

His hands all over me, pulling me in, in, in.

I allow him to consume me like a black hole, atom by atom, my matter falling apart and reforming even as he undoes me.

Time and movement are meaningless. Ecstasy drowns me in its undulation.

It’s like Orpheus was made for me and me alone; he knows where to touch, to stroke, to bite.

He undresses me like a dance, as if every unbuttoning, every slide of fabric down my body, is an artist’s expression.

I can only cling to him, boneless, gasping, wet, and aching.

I’m naked when he finally enters me, his body unyielding at my back. He thrusts slowly as he palms my belly, as he caresses my peaked nipples, his teeth at my shoulder. My palms are pressed to the window. My breath is hot against the foggy glass.

He pushes deeper and I cry out, my cheek hitting the glass.

My breasts flatten against the window. He rolls his hips, back pressed to mine as he thrusts into me over and over.

Light-bright rain fills my vision until it blackens — I close my eyes, the world falls away — and the ache in my core tightens, tightens, tightens.

“You are different, Kit,” Orpheus murmurs, his low voice rumbling in my ear. I drift back to myself, shaking, teetering at the edge of orgasm. “You’re perfect. Unlike anyone else in this world.”

Orpheus thrusts in slowly, gently. His hand flattens against my belly. Then he pulls out, almost leaving me bereft. But as he does, he slides the fingers of his free hand between my legs, right where I need him most. “I’m going to show you how perfect you are. Relax for me.”

I let out a shaking breath.

Then he slams his cock deep into me. At the same time, his fingers find a pressure that needs releasing. Everything tightens. The ache grows impossible. I whisper his name, pleading.

Just as I begin to fall over the edge, tears in my eyes, the feeling so full and so bright that it might kill me—

“There,” he says. “Open your eyes. Look.”

I open my eyes.

The skyline flares in colored light as I come, blurred with tears and rain-smeared glass. He holds me as wave after wave of pleasure engulfs me. But even as I fall into that incomprehensible bliss, the city outside wavers. Each light sparks out, one by one, as if covered up by a shadowy hand.

At the crest of my orgasm, I gasp his name, Orpheus .

Then something catches my eye. The smallest thing, a glimmer in my periphery.

I glance down.

My body is — is glitching. Parts of it shimmer in and out. It’s fuzzy at the edges, like an old television, lines of static running through me. It’s like the mirage from before, but it’s part of me this time. I’m the mirage. I gasp in horror.

My entire body disappears, then reappears, flickering like a dying lightbulb.

Fuck, fuck, fuck .

Orpheus’s hand between my thighs is still moving, still urging me on.

But my orgasm dies as terror and confusion win out, and I wrench myself from Orpheus’s grasp. I fall to my knees at the window. That now-familiar pressure bears down on me, the intensity of being crushed beneath an impossible weight, like I’m miles underwater. My ears pop painfully.

“What the fuck ,” I gasp, heaving for breath, not sure if I’m taking in too much oxygen or not enough. I hold up my hands, turning them front to back. They’re whole and solid. I look down at my naked body, heaving and wet with perspiration. It’s also whole and solid.

Orpheus holds out a hand.

I stare up at him. His eyes glow gold, his face unreadable. The city outside lights the planes of his face. His hair falls in pristine waves over one shoulder. He shows no sign of fear, confusion, or exertion.

“What the fuck just happened?” My voice is weaker the second time, lost and afraid. I wrap my arms around myself. I’m humiliated by my nakedness, my tears, my fear.

Orpheus kneels before me, cupping my face in his hands. “It was a door to another world,” he says softly, almost wondering, almost worshiping. “You opened it, and you looked through.”