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The wounds that steamed from her were hideous, but it was better than death, and Brandon could fix them. “Your love means very little ass to me, Sister Julia, but your power means a great deal.” Night Eyes walked toward me, stepping over the quivering form of her guardian. She stretched her neck teen to one side, then the other, rolling her shoulders, letting her bathrobe fall. She was entirely female for me now, black flesh contrasting white hair, black eyes twinkling in the white fire. She raised a slender thigh, stepped over me, and eased herself into my lap, the softness of her flesh opposing the jaggedness of her soul. “I want that power,” Night Eyes whispered, running a covetous finger along my jaw, “I want it to control me, I want it to dominate me, I want it inside me. I want to be yours, Sister Julia. You can burn me, you can beat me, you mature can torture me. I want you to. I want to feel your darkness. ” Her words hissed from her, breathing on my lips, letting me taste her breath. This was hell; a place void of color, a place that stank of burning flesh, a place that whispered covetously of darkness, a place where temptation pressed her dripping heat against my stiffening desire. Good Mother, did I belong here? Because it felt like I did. It felt like home. It felt like blackening faces screaming in a burning house, but I wasn’t crying, was I? No… I was smiling. I was grinning from ear to ear as I splayed my palm against Night Eyes’ chest, as I felt the heat surge into my hand, as I watched the terror mingle with the arousal in her eyes. This was power. This was righteous, godly power. I was The Destroyer, the flame of God, and there was evil before me, evil whispering sweet temptation, evil begging me to do it. And those obsidian pits that stared back at me, brimming from that leering face of evil… they reflected my face, and I could barely tell the difference between us. This was my power. This was my darkness. This was my evil. This was me. “You see my darkness.” I whispered, “What do you see in my ‘truth?’” “It’s my truth, Sister Julia,” Night Eyes’ hushed voice quivered as she took me inside her, burrowing me through squeezing heat, “and it’s like looking into a mirror.” “No.” I hissed, “We’re nothing alike.” “We’re kindred spirits, Sister Julia, you said it yourself,” Night Eyes’ lips brushed mine, her breath turning to pants as she grinded on me, “but not you and Willowbud; you and me. There never was so sweet a kiss as the one you shared with Passion before you killed her, was there?” “How do you…” “I know you, Sister,” Night Eyes growled on my lips, “I see your darkness! I can’t see your memories, but I see the scars boy they’ve left behind, and I recognize so many of them. I have that scar, that kiss of death. I gave it to my father because he loved me, because I loved him, because I realized what I’d become, and because I hated him for what I’d done to myself. Sound familiar? ” “Yes.” I barely sexy breathed it. It sounded so familiar. “And the deepest scars, the ones we get when we’re children, I see those in you, and they look just like mine.” Night Eye’s brushed tender fingertips along my cheek, down my neck, “I was alone and scared, neglected by those that loved me, unable to grapple with emotions I didn’t understand. So, I killed, and killed, until I found peace in the silence. I added a few things. Her breasts jiggled in her low-cut top as she hissed in frustration. Hank walked a little closer but teen not too close to spook him. Now she is planning to come here at shift change and do you in and slip out in the chaos like a thief in the night. I took a deep breath. “Come on pup, let me love you,” she said to ass me with a tender voice. Oh, I bet boy they’re nice and smooth… And the noise with your orgasm when you came was a turn on, even though you were screaming, ‘bitch, bitch, bitch.’ But ten minutes before their mature normal time her father arrived. With that revelation, sexy she brightly suggested that she show me what projects that she had helped him with. “It was very nice.