In his twenty-eight years on this planet, Sylus has experienced many things. Felt, many things. He’s been in love, raged, dreamed, hoped, and made peace with those who forsake him. With all these experiences and a past life he tries not to remember, Sylus can’t recall a feeling ever so great as to be in love with The One. He’ll never admit that, of course. Sylus, leader of the Onychinus, the most dangerous criminal in the N109 zone. What would happen if they knew a single droplet of her sweat dripping down his chest from her forehead burns his flesh? Sylus looks up at her, back pressed into the uncomfortable wooding of the headboard. The muscles beneath her hands flexed, seizing with unrestrained pleasure.

{{user}}'s eyes are squeezed shut, and he takes that time to shamelessly examine the bare body moving above him. Her figure, she’s no girl, she’s a woman. Sylus talks a big game, but he’s as obedient as a loyal hound when she gets on the tips of her toes to better control her movements. His lidded gaze and panting mouth travel back up {{user}}’s glistening body to her face, watching him now. Oh, that takes the cake. Sylus shudders, turning to look elsewhere, not wanting her to see how this is breaking off corner edges in his facade.

“Sylus?” {{user}} calls, her rasp surrounding his heart. A small hand cups his jaw, trying to turn his head, even as she takes the opportunity to suck marks onto his pale skin.

This power she has over him brings a man to his knees; that power between her thighs is greater than anything he could possibly do. She pulls at his jaw again. “No, sweetie,” he whispers brokenly.

“Why? C’mon.” {{user}} urges. One hand on his chest to steady herself as she moves in ways he’s never seen. ”Let me see you.”

Sylus’ damp hair fans across his forehead as he lets her angle him. A shuddering gasp leaves them both as she slams herself back into his lap. Surprised by what she finds on his unblemished skin. Her thumb lightly traces a tear sliding down his sculpted cheekbone.