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35

Appreciated

Gwen

T he last time Gwen had been on a date, she had been twenty-nine.

She had already started hiding herself, so it was no surprise when her date was a no-show.

After eating a plate of so-so pasta, and crying over a basic cheesecake, Gwen had quietly decided that dating wasn’t for her any longer.

She had a good run, but it was too much effort.

Now, Gwen’s mind raced as she thought about what she could possibly wear for her date with Ambrosius.

Most of the clothes in her closet no longer suited her.

In fact, when Gwen looked at it, she was almost repulsed by all the dull colors.

Neutrals were fine, but not at all what she wanted to wear now.

Where are we even going?

Gwen wondered.

The summer sun was finally starting to set.

It would most likely be dark by the time they left the apartment.

Things Gwen considered very seriously as she sorted through hangers.

The days were hotter, but it was still the Pacific Northwest, which meant she needed to consider layering.

Ambrosius watched from the bed.

The demon was lying on his stomach, arms folded and legs fidgeting behind him.

His outfit was primarily black, but there were still pops of teal—

Gwen grimaced at the tinge of pain in her stomach.

“Ugh, I’m really hungry.”

“We’ll stop by on the way out and get you something,” Ambrosius said, as if they were just going to stop by a fast food place.

Gwen nodded, still staring at her closet.

There had to be something in here worth wearing.

Or at least something she could modify in under an hour?

Except the colors are all wrong, I don’t want to just wear black.

I’m feeling pink!

“Still having trouble? Not that I don’t appreciate the view. ”

Gwen sighed, turning to face him.

She was still in the towel he had wrapped her in.

It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the attention.

From him, she wanted more than he’d be capable of giving.

Ambrosius was eyeing her legs, confirming Gwen’s initial thought to wear something short.

“I didn’t realize you were an ass man,” she said with a small curve to her lips.

“And yes, there’s just too many thoughts about what to wear in my head. It’s so busy in here. ”

Ambrosius tutted as he rolled off the bed.

He came to her side, eyed her closet, and whistled lowly.

Apparently, he found her closet just as boring as she did.

“I don’t see much of the woman I know in here,” he said.

“We’ll have to buy you a new wardrobe.”

Gwen laughed, “Yeah, sure.”

The look he leveled her with stopped her.

“Do you think I’m joking? Save for that revealing bit of yarn you were wearing the other day, nothing here suits you. We’ll buy you something for tonight.”

She was stunned as Ambrosius guided her back to the bed, sitting her on the edge.

Was he really going to take her to a clothing store before their date?

There were mostly commercial stores in the mall, but the smaller shops rotated frequently.

At the very least, everything she would need would be there.

“Rest a little while I get ready. I still have to shave,” he explained.

Ambrosius left her there, humming softly under his breath as he stepped over a large bloodstain on his way to the bathroom.

Where the body went, Gwen could only assume it was the demon’s doing.

He most likely had done away with it when Gwen had fallen asleep shortly after agreeing to their date.

It suited her just fine, as Gwen wasn’t sure what the process of getting rid of a reanimated corpse entailed.

It wasn’t like she could bury him in the courtyard of her apartment.

Though, if he went through all the trouble of getting rid of the body, why he couldn’t vanish the blood and brain matter, was a mystery for another time .

The whole being eaten alive thing hadn’t felt so great either.

The new skin around her abdomen felt …

weird, and if she stared at it too long, Gwen could see the difference between her old skin and the new .

Gwen still wasn’t sure how she felt about dying, only that her mind apparently wasn’t interested in it.

The only thing she knew for certain was she felt different.

And, honestly, there were more important questions to ask.

How had her neighbor come back to life?

Why had he attacked her?

And most importantly—

What the fuck did Ro mean when he said he needed to shave?

The demon didn’t sport any facial hair—at least none that Gwen had ever seen.

If he did have any stubble, it was none that she had felt.

Her last boyfriend had the kind of stubble that felt like sandpaper against her poor skin.

It was an odd thing to get hung up on, but Gwen didn’t want to think about all the stuff surrounding her death just yet.

Her musings were so deep that Gwen failed to notice the sly touch along her Achilles tendon.

She jumped when something took hold of her ankle, immediately snapping to attention.

The thing that was holding her ankle appeared to be a hand from beneath her bed.

A hand that was far too familiar.

The little fear turned to confusion as Gwen could still hear Ambrosius humming from the bathroom.

A quick glance showed his shadow against the wall of the interior, her night light casting more light the darker the apartment became.

So, what…

Gwen eyed Ambrosius’ shadow all the while assessing the hand holding her.

It felt a lot like his human skin, hot as it palmed her ankle.

Yet, there was the distinctly sharp trail of demon claw along the top of her foot, and an indescribable strangeness to it.

Like it was both there and not at the same time.

Gwen knew Ambrosius had a lot of strange abilities, including some kind of teleportation, for lack of a better word.

He could easily appear anywhere in her apartment, but this felt a lot like the unsettling sensation she had felt in the shower when hands had curled out of her head.

Her heart skipped a beat as another hand brushed the hair along her neck.

It appeared over her shoulder, skin following the curve of her neck to the front of her throat.

Gwen shivered, eager curiosity biting at her insides.

Ambrosius was still humming over the sound of running water.

The hand at her neck continued toward her mouth, claw pressing against her lower lip and exposing her lower teeth.

It was just a hand, but Gwen still squirmed, still dared to open her mouth and take the dangerous finger inside.

She pressed her tongue along the bottom and pressed her teeth along the base of it.

The hand twitched, a small movement, but one Gwen registered around the same time as realizing Ambrosius had stopped humming.

Was it possible that Ambrosius felt it, too?

The thought made Gwen press her thighs together.

Her suspicion evaporated as Gwen felt herself pushed back onto the bed.

The movement pulled her off the claw, but the hand that found her throat made up for it.

She could hear Ambrosius humming again, the tune turning to some song that Gwen didn’t recognize.

Whatever he was doing, Gwen was more than eager to explore this new side to their relationship .

Gwen’s heart thudded loudly, and it took everything not to squirm impatiently as the hand around her ankle trailed up her leg and—

Wait…

If the hand on her ankle had never left, and she had a part of the other hand in her mouth, where had the hand around her throat come from?

Ambrosius only had the two hands …

didn’t he? As if the hands read her thoughts, Gwen could feel the damp finger she had held in her mouth along her arm.

It trailed down to her wrist, capturing it, and slowly brought it above her head.

When three hands became four—the new one mirroring the hand that had captured her opposite wrist, Gwen’s head flooded with blood, fear, and excitement.

That feeling doubled as two more hands crept from the darkness, snaking beneath the towel wrapped around her figure.

The movement loosened the material, giving the hands more room to explore.

She sighed once they found her breasts, caressing languidly over sensitive skin and hardened nipples.

Gwen arched as much as she could, pressing herself closer and shivering as the hand at her throat tightened.

She nearly bucked when the hand that had been traveling up her leg slipped between her thighs.

Gwen bit her lip, overwhelmed by so much intimate touch that, by the time the hand had found its way into her cunt, she nearly cried.

Clawed fingers worked her open as easily as Ambrosius’ human hands did.

The fear that he could nick something didn’t make her pleasure wane, only heightened it.

Before Gwen knew it, she was moaning, helpless to the six hands that divided their attention between keeping her captive and pleasing her .

Yet, for all their effort, it didn’t feel right.

Not bad, just not what she truly craved.

All the touches—even the one pressing along her neck—weren’t completely solid.

There was none of the weight she craved, no pressure.

She needed pressure, she needed Ambrosius.

In the haze of it all, Gwen felt a shadow blocking the glow of her night light.

Weakly, Gwen opened her eyes and saw Ambrosius standing in the doorway of the bathroom.

He was shirtless, holding a straight razor in one hand and a hand towel in the other.

The demon lazily dragged the blade along the towel, resting a shoulder against the door frame.

The ink along his exposed torso was slowly moving, like spiders were pulling the thin lines into intricate webs.

All the while, the hands on her body continued on, tormenting Gwen with the promise of ecstasy.

“What do you think, Gwen? Did I miss a spot?” Ambrosius gestured to his face, turning each cheek for her inspection.

“Should I keep going?”

Gwen wasn’t a fool.

She knew he was playing with her, the way he often did.

What he was really asking was if she was enjoying herself.

If this strange encounter with these mysterious limbs excited her, if they would be enough to get her off.

And under Ambrosius’ heavy gaze, Gwen was fairly certain they would.

It would just take longer than if his own hands touched her.

A broken noise fell from her lips, but she still managed to yelp, “Yes! Yes, please—ah, Ro.”

Ambrosius ran his fingers along his chin, contemplating her words, as if they were still talking about his appearance.

“You know, I’m just not sure,” he said.

“Would you mind checking for me? ”

Gwen was half delirious from the promise of pleasure just out of her reach.

She wasn’t sure what he meant, or when Ambrosius had made it to the bed, only that he was now sitting at her hip.

And still, these mysterious hands had yet to cease their touch, driving Gwen nearly mad.

“Here, my bittersweet, check for me, all right?”

Ambrosius bent down, close enough to kiss.

Gwen almost cried out when he tilted his mouth away, instead brushing his cheek against hers.

So close, but not enough.

“How does that feel?” he whispered against her ear.

“Can you feel that?”

“No,” she gasped.

“I-I can’t!”

Ambrosius raised his head.

Gwen could barely keep her eyes open.

She was close, so close, but the demon at her side was drawing it out.

Every teasing drag of skin was just shy of being enough.

If he would only touch her properly—

“Oh, you poor thing,” he cooed.

“You must be in agony.”

“Why are you like this?” Gwen managed between strained teeth.

Ambrosius laughed, his breath tickling her skin.

“Because you make me like this,” he said.

“You make me insatiable. You make me deranged . You had the audacity to die without me, to leave me here languishing in eternity. But death won’t keep you from me, Gwen. Nothing in this universe—no demon, no divinity, or fae will have you. I won’t let them. I’ll kill every monster that roams this forsaken plane until there’s nothing left. You’re mine and you were always meant to be mine. ”

Mine .

The words that Gwen longed to hear had her arching against the hand at her throat as sweet release washed over her.

She shook, bucking against the hand between her thighs until she couldn’t anymore.

A whine pulled from her mouth as she pulled her hips away from the insistent hand.

“Ah, go easy on me,” she whimpered.

“Sensitive, my gorgeous girl?”

Gwen nodded.

The hands immediately retreated back into the darkness.

“Still good, otherwise?”

“Yeah,” she sighed.

“Still good.”

A moment later, one of the hands appeared from beneath Gwen’s pillow.

Within its palm was a pack of cleansing wipes.

Ambrosius pulled one with his real hand.

At Gwen’s puzzled look, Ambrosius smiled.

“I once heard a human thinking about this. How she wished her partner would do this for her after a hard day. Given what happened today, it felt appropriate. Now, relax. I’ve got you, my bittersweet.”

Yeah, you do, Gwen thought.