Chapter 80: Pent Up. Anna Goes Crazy *
Silas emerged from the bathroom, steam curling off his skin as he ran a hand through his damp hair. The hot water had done wonders for his aching muscles, and the nurses at the base had already patched him up with basic healing magic, closing the worst of his wounds and mending the cracks in his ribs. But he still felt the deep, bone-level exhaustion that came from pushing his body past its limits for days on end.
A towel hung low around his waist, water still beading on his chest and shoulders. He stopped when he saw her. Anna sat on the edge of his bed, wearing only a black bra and matching panties. The dim lamplight caught the curves of her body, the smooth expanse of her tanned skin, the way her dark hair fell loose around her shoulders instead of its usual ponytail. She looked up at him with those warm brown eyes, and he saw something flickering there... something raw.
"The nurses healed you," she said.
"They did."
"But not well enough."
He didn’t argue. He knew where this was going. Anna stood and crossed the room toward him, her bare feet padding softly against the floor. She stopped inches away, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her body, and could smell the familiar scent of her perfume mixed with something else: Want.
"I can do better," she said. "My healing is stronger than theirs."
"I know."
"Then lie down."
He held her gaze for a moment longer, then walked to the bed and climbed onto it. The sheets were cool against his skin as he settled onto his stomach, his face turned to the side, his arms folded beneath the pillow. The towel rode up slightly, exposing the curve of his ass, but he didn’t bother adjusting it.
Anna climbed onto the bed behind him, her knees bracketing his hips as she straddled him. Her thighs pressed against his sides, warm and soft, and placed her hands on his back.
A soft gold glow emanated from her palms.
The warmth that spread through him was immediate and profound. It wasn’t like the nurses’ healing, which had felt clinical and surface-level, like painting over cracks in a wall. Anna’s mana seeped into his muscles, his tendons, his very bones, radiating outward from where her hands touched him. She worked slowly, deliberately, her palms gliding across his shoulders, down his spine, and over the knots of tension in his lower back. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
"That’s it," she murmured. "Just relax."
Her hands moved lower, working the tight muscles of his hips, his glutes. Her thumbs pressed deep into the flesh, the golden glow pulsing with each stroke. He could feel the residual aches and pains melting away, replaced by a deep, bone-deep warmth that made him want to sink into the mattress and never move.
"You were so worried about everyone else," Anna said quietly. "Chloe, Gromda, making sure everyone was safe. But who takes care of you, Silas?"
He didn’t have an answer. Her hands slid up his sides, over his ribs, pressing firmly along his shoulder blades. When she reached his neck, she leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his back, her breath warm against his ear.
"Turn over."
He did. The towel shifted as he rolled onto his back, and he saw her eyes drop immediately to the tent forming beneath the fabric. She didn’t look away. Instead, she reached down and wrapped her fingers around his length through the towel, the golden glow still shimmering on her hand. He inhaled sharply. Her touch was warm, impossibly warm, the healing ability amplifying every sensation as she stroked him slowly, deliberately. Her jaw tightened while her breath came quicker.
"Anna..."
"I can’t hold it anymore."
Her voice cracked on the last word. She climbed over him in one swift motion, her knees settling on either side of his hips. Her fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties, pulling the black fabric to the side, exposing the slick, glistening lips beneath. Her other hand grabbed his towel and yanked it aside, freeing his cock, already hard and aching.
"Anna, wait, we don’t have to rush..."
"I’ve been waiting for three weeks." Her eyes were bright, wet, and desperate. "Three weeks of not knowing if you were alive. Three weeks of imagining the worst."
She positioned herself over him, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance. She was soaked, her heat bleeding through the air between them.
"I don’t want to wait anymore."
She sank down. In one motion, she took him completely. Her body swallowed him whole, her pussy stretching around his girth, her walls clenching as she seated herself fully against his hips. A strangled cry escaped her lips, half pain, half pure, desperate relief.
"Holy fuck!" Silas’s hands flew to her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as she began to move.
She rode him with a fervor that bordered on desperation. Her hips rose and fell, her body finding a rhythm that was raw and unpolished and utterly honest. She wasn’t trying to be sexy. She wasn’t performing. She was taking what she needed, what she’d been denied for too long, and she took it without shame.
"Anna... slow down..."
"I can’t." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I can’t slow down. I need you too much. I need... fuck~! I need you inside me, I need to feel you, I need to know you’re real, you’re here, you’re alive..."
He pulled her down into a kiss, swallowing her words, her tears, her desperate sounds. His tongue slid against hers as his hips rose to meet her, driving deeper, filling her completely. She moaned into his mouth, her nails raking across his chest and shoulders, leaving red lines that healed even as they formed.
Her rhythm grew erratic as her walls clenched around him, tightening and pulling him closer to the edge.
"Cum for me," he growled against her lips. "Cum on my cock, Anna."
Her orgasm ripped through her like a thunderclap, her body convulsing, her pussy milking him with violent, rhythmic contractions. She screamed his name, her voice breaking, her tears falling onto his chest as she rode out the waves of pleasure.
He followed her over the edge, his hips bucking upward as he emptied himself inside her, hot and deep, filling her until she was dripping with him. His groan was low and guttural, his hands gripping her hips so tightly he knew there would be bruises in the morning.
She collapsed onto his chest, her body limp, her breath ragged. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, feeling her heartbeat hammering against his ribs, matching his own. They lay there in silence, tangled together, the golden glow of her healing magic fading into the dim lamplight.
"I love you," she whispered against his skin. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"I love you too, Anna."
She lifted her head, a tearful laugh escaping her lips.
"So. Gromda, huh?"
He winced. "We should probably talk about that."
"Later," She kissed him again, soft and slow. "Right now, I just want to stay here. With you... That is if they don’t want a taste of you..."
