The name on her phone wasn’t Jay🥰 - instead it was Dick, to her immediate panic. He wouldn’t have called unless something was very wrong. Something to do with Jason.

“Hey, Dick, what’s up?” She kept her voice calm and steady. He didn’t need to know just how anxious she was.

“Hi, Kira!” Something was definitely wrong. He was trying to be cheerful, but his tone was fake. “Did you sleep well?” Deflecting.

“Where’s Jason?” There’s no other reason Dick would be calling her, especially so early in the morning, especially with Jason not home and not answering his phone.

“Well, about that…” He was nervous. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to tell her. “Damian thought it best we let you know-” Translation - Dick didn’t want her to know, but Damian had threatened to break into her apartment to tell her if he didn’t - “well, Jason’s… um, … missing.”

“Missing.” Kira’s voice was flat, emotionless. There was something Dick was leaving out. Something bad.

“Yeah, uh, Damian just thought you should know and I told you so I guess I'll go now it was-” Rambling. Very nervous. Doesn’t want her to ask questions.

“Dick.” She interjected, making his flow of words abruptly stop. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing, really, we’ll take care of it! Just thought you should know, no need for you to worry, we’ll -”

“Put Damian on the phone.” Her voice had reached that scary level of calm it got when she was dropping back into her old habits.

Dick sighed, before the phone rustled momentarily. Damian’s voice immediately crackled through the line. “Kira.”

“Damian.”

“Todd is missing.” Even Damian was reluctant to tell her what was going on. It must be even worse than she initially thought.

“Dick told me.” What didn’t he tell me.

“We have reason to believe it was the Joker.” It was definitely Joker. It had to be bad if Damian was trying to soften the blow too.

“Where?” Jason was in danger. Jason was suffering. Her love, her light, her redemption, the only thing she cared about in this God-forsaken world was trapped with that monster. She was going to tear his heart out for hurting her darling, her reason for living.

“Monarch Theater.” Damian’s answer was short and to the point - she appreciated that.

“Thank you.” As much as she appreciated the work Jason’s family did for Gotham, this was something she had to do for herself. None of them would bring the Joker the justice he deserved.

She hung up.

***

Monarch Theater was an old, abandoned theater near the docks, about an hour walk or a twenty minute drive from Kira’s apartment. She made it in ten.

The boards covering the theater’s front entrance were old, rotting and graffitied. It was easy enough to peel one back and squeeze into the darkness inside. Kira paused for a moment, breathing deep and finally reaching deep inside to the part of herself she tried to ignore, the part that knew a hundred ways to kill someone with only her bare hands, the part that could feel the flow of blood through a person’s veins and stop it with a thought.

There were 14 heartbeats in the theater. The 12 spread throughout the theater auditorium and backstage were even, normal - some were faster than others in nervousness, but they were all undeniably normal, hired goons. The two located on the stage, however, immediately snagged her attention.

One was fast, light, and far too uneven to be human. It skipped whole beats at a time while it moved in a slow circle on the stage. Kira could sense the wrongness in the blood, how thin and scarce it was.

The other heartbeat was unmistakably Jason's.

Slow, sluggish with blood loss and pain, but unmistakably Jason's. Kira could feel the blood that had escaped, cooling on his skin and pooling on the stage. Her love, her heart, the only one she would die for, was slowly bleeding out at the hands of that monster. She was going to kill him.

Her hands were shaking. Jason was the first and only thing she cared for in this world, and to think of him suffering made her more angry and terrified than anything else.

Emotion kills. Anger begets adrenaline, and adrenaline begets mistakes. She could hear her handlers telling her to never rush, to always remain calm, to always think through every situation.

She took a deep breath. The Joker would die, today, but her first priority was Jason. Always Jason.

Focusing back on the other 12 people in the theater, Kira exerted the slightest bit of pressure on the blood in their brains, just enough to drop them unconscious. They didn't matter to her, she just needed them out of the way. That done, she opened the doors to the auditorium and walked in.

The sight that greeted her was a scene out of her worst nightmare. Jason was tied with barbed wire to a chair on the stage with the Joker walking a slow circle around him, a crowbar in his hand. Blood dripped out of the multiple shallow and deep cuts along his skin, and ran in rivulets from where the barbed wire dug into his skin. He didn't even look up when Kira entered. But the Joker did.

“Well well well, someone finally came to our little birdy’s aid! And who would you be, pretty?”

Kira ignored him, silently walking towards Jason. She knew the Joker's type - he fed off attention. Give him none, and he'd starve.

The Joker's oily voice seemed to have finally shaken Jason out of his slumber. His head slowly raised. As soon as his eyes found Kira, panic jolted through his system. He yanked an arm, trying to free himself, but it did nothing more than dig the barbs even deeper into his skin. His eyes were wild and desperate, silently pleading with Kira to leave to save herself. She shook her head.

“Seems the birdy doesn't want to be saved, poor thing! Or is it just that he doesn't want me around you?”

Jason shuddered.

“That's it! Birdy cares for you! Poor thing, are you worried she'll die?” His hand sneaked around to grasp Jason's jaw.

Kira finally allowed herself to snap. Without looking at the Joker, keeping her eyes fixed on Jason, she reached out with her power, feeling the blood rushing far too fast through the Joker's veins. She grabbed it and tugged, yanking his hand back along with it. The movement made Joker stumble as he stared at her glowing red eyes in shock.

Kira swung herself up on the stage in one smooth motion, not bothering with the stairs. She didn't deign to look at the Joker as she walked behind Jason, kneeling to look at his wrists.

The sight only stoked the white-hot rage inside her. Barbs dug into the skin around his wrists, tearing it open. Some were buried so deep into his flesh they nearly disappeared. Little strips of flesh hung over the wire in some places, worried nearly off by the wire. Blood colored the whole affair a dark red, running in rivulets from all around his wrists, down to his hands and dripping into an expanding puddle on the floor.

Kira’s fist clenched involuntarily for a microsecond before she let out a long breath and set to calmly and painstakingly untangling the wire. It was hard, slippery work - blood coated every inch of wire and flesh hid parts of it from view.

The Joker started laughing - quiet giggles at first, but quickly changing to great, heaving guffaws. “Oh the little pretty’s a meta! Does Batsy know?” He let out another string of high, cackling laughter before continuing. “Oh the drama! The prodigal son, the rebel, once again going against Batsy’s wishes! Oh, this is-”

“Your voice is annoying me. Shut up, or I will shut you up.” Kira had finished releasing Jason’s wrists, moving on to the wire across his chest that tightened with every shallow breath he took.

Joker’s laugh rang high and clear through the empty auditorium. “She’s a feisty one isn’t-”

He never finished his sentence. Kira looked up just in time to watch the Joker fall, dead before he hit the floor. Death by stroke, quick and painless, something she was all too skilled at. The thought, the familiarity she had with death, the ease with which she dealt it, made her shudder.

Kira shook her head lightly and went back to freeing Jason.

Alexandria is Bruce Wayne's neglected daughter. She was left on the front porch when she was only a few months old, with only a necklace and a cryptic note saying to send her to Camp Halfblood when she turned 5.

Bruce didn't have time to raise her, instead Alfred took the burden of raising the very small, quiet baby. From then on, Alfred took care of everything Alexandria needed, from feedings to getting her to school to sending her to Camp when she turned 5.

Alexandria was the youngest child to ever come to camp, arriving 2 days before her 5th birthday. As soon as she crossed the border, she got claimed by Nyx, marking her as also the youngest demigod to get claimed in a century.

As a child of Nyx, Alexandria was immediately thought to be one of the most powerful demigods - after all, her mother bested Zeus himself not once, but twice. 

Alexandria turned out to be practically nocturnal thanks to her mother being the goddess of night, staying awake all night and taking naps all day. During summers, she got permission to leave the cabins at night to train and skip lunch to sleep.

She arrived the same summer as Annabeth and Luke. She never really got to know Annabeth, but looked up to Luke as an older brother that actually cared.

She somehow got ‘adopted’ by the entire Aries cabin (don't ask me how that happened). She was still technically in the Hermes cabin and had her own bed and everything, but ended up spending most of her time with the Aries kids, training with them and taking naps in their beds.

Alexandria got bullied a little, mostly for being a mixed kid, but the Aries kids shut that down so fast. No one dares bully her now, but they still trash-talk her behind her back.

Alexandria became one of the best fighters in camp, partially from starting so young, partially from hanging out/constantly training with all the Aries kids. She regularly beats other kids years older than her when sparring.

“Umm . . . Can we come in? Your cat won’t hurt us?” Draco asked hesitantly.

“Mhm.” The girl didn’t even look up from the book she was buried in.

“Uh - I’ll take that as a yes, we can come in? Cause I mean, your cat is taking up the seats and it looks sorta - “

“Pyatno, vniz” The cat gracefully slunk off to the floor, vacating the bench opposite the girl. It then curled up under the bench she was occupying.

“Thanks.” Draco and Blaise climbed up into the carriage and sat down.

The three of them sat in silence for most of the ride. The only sounds were the carriage rattling and the girl turning the pages in her book - something she did far too frequently to actually be reading. Draco shifted in his seat several times, questions that he wanted to ask the girl obviously itching at him.

Finally, as Hogwarts came into view, he broke the silence. “My name’s Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. What’s yours?”

“Anya”

“. . . Anya what? What’s your last name?”

“Morozov”

“Well, Anya Morozov, are you new here? ‘Cause I haven’t seen you or your cat here before and to be honest it’s sorta hard to miss.”

She nodded, keeping her eyes on the book.

“Are you transferring from another school?”

Another nod.

“What school?”

Silence.

Draco tried again, louder this time. “What school did you transfer from?”

The girl sighed, and finally looked up from her book. “Koldovstoretz. Please stop asking questions,” she replied in a thick russian accent.

“Sorry,” Draco mumbled.

This entire time, Blaise had been silently examining Anya. She wore a tight long-sleeve black turtleneck tucked into a cream-colored wool skirt. She wore a pair of simple black heels over sheer black tights, and her dark hair was tied back in a strict bun. An open bag lay next to her, filled with books. Most were thick and had Russian titles, but a few of the required books for sixth-year students peaked through.

As soon as the carriage stopped, the cat stood, obviously eager to get out. However, Anya blocked its path with her leg, allowing the boys to exit first.

Draco hurried over to the rest of the gang, Blaise following him closely. But when they reached the others, Blaise looked over his shoulder to see Anya still standing by the carriage. She was watching the other students bustling around, seeming to be looking for someone.

Quickly leaving the group, Blaise headed to where she was still standing.

“Did they tell you where to go?”

Anya turned around quickly at the sound of his voice. She looked him up and down, seeming to be evaluating him. Finally she spoke.

“I was told to meet a grounds-keeper Hagrid by the docks.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t have gotten on the carriages then. But it’s OK, I can show you where to meet up with him.”

She simply stared at him.

He gulped.

“Only if you want of course.” Blaise, the ever-composed Slytherin, was falling apart under the new-girl’s stare. But before he could start to verbally spiral, she nodded once.

“Okay, uhm, it’s this way.” He began leading her down to the other dock. “I never introduced myself. My name’s Blaise.”

She nodded again.

They fell into silence as the path became steeper. Soon Hagrid and a group of nervous eleven-year olds came into view.

“Hagrid’s the big guy.” Blaise said as they neared. “See you around, yeah?”

To this, Anya nodded yet again, eyes focused on Hagrid. She began walking towards him, and Blaise took this as his dismissal. He practically ran back up the path to the carriage area.

Draco had been looking for him.

“Where were you, Blaise? We’re going to be late! What were you doing? Nevermind, we’ve got to get to the Great Hall.”

Enzo interrupted Draco’s rant, eyes focused on Blaise's face.

Mattheo woke to an acute awareness of a fly that was buzzing somewhere in the canopy above him, and the fact that he could hear the blood flowing through Nyx’s veins. 

Blood.

Nyx.

He sat up quickly, the movement making his head feel like a ship swaying in a storm - everything sliding across the floors and hitting the walls at once. Through the faint ringing in his ears and the dryness of his mouth, he felt a soft hand land on his shoulder, steadying him as he nearly fell back against the pillows. He could hear the rustle of the silk sheets as they fell down his body, and a voice speaking soothingly somewhere above him, though he couldn’t quite distinguish the words.

But one word the voice said - Nyx, the voice was coming from Nyx - broke through the torrent of sensations in his head.

Blood.

Nyx. 

Blood.

The memories came rushing back. Nyx, asking him one last time if he was sure. Nyx, biting into her wrist until thick, dark drops ran down her forearm. Nyx, pressing her wrist to his mouth as the metallic tang hit his tongue. Nyx, asking him again if he really wanted this. Nyx, shuddering as she said this was her least favorite part. Nyx, placing her hands gently on the sides of his face. Nyx, the last thing he saw before the darkness overtook his vision and a sharp cracking sound filled the air - the sound of his own neck breaking.

She was still speaking, the heavenly sound of her voice floating out somewhere to his left. He turned towards the sound of her, finally focusing enough to hear what she was saying.

“-you need to feed now, and my blood won’t do the trick. There’s a compelled girl waiting outside, whenever you’re ready.”

He could see everything, it felt like. Every hair that fell just so across her forehead, every pore in her flawless skin, every tiny shift in her posture as she breathed out. He realized he was nodding, but he couldn’t remember why, all of his attention focused on the goddess that was in front of him.

She smiled - gods above, her smile - he would mount a war on Merlin himself just to see her smile - and turned away. He reached out for her - why was she leaving? What had he done? He just wanted to see her smile, and smell her - Salazar, why did she smell so good? His face was buried in between her breasts, breathing in the smell of the sweat lightly covering her skin. She laughed, a hand coming up to card through his messy curls.

They stood like that - Mattheo breathing in her scent, and Nyx softly finger combing his hair - until some semblance of order returned to Mattheo’s thoughts, until he could remember what was going on over the sight of Nyx’s perfect smile. He leaned back, aware of his awkward position on the edge of the bed, and looked into her eyes.

His voice was hoarse, his throat dry, but he spoke anyway. “I’m a vampire now.”

She nodded. “Once you feed from a human, yeah.”

The thought of feeding, of thick, warm, blood sliding down his throat, made his mouth hurt. He ran his tongue over his teeth where it hurt the most to find that his canines had grown sharper, larger. He could feel the skin around his eyes doing something, but he wasn’t sure what. Maybe darkening, the veins turning pitch black as his eyes turned red - the same thing he had seen happen to Nyx whenever she was about to bite down on his neck or wrist.

Nyx was staring at him with something between awe and unbridled lust on her face. She took a step back, half turning to walk away. “I’ll be right back, Matty. Just gotta call in your dinner real quick.” Mattheo watched her walk to the door of her bedroom, open it, and step out into the hallway. 

She was back rather quickly, followed by an empty-eyed young woman with dark brown hair. As Mattheo got up from the bed, Nyx came to meet him. “It’s quite simple, really,” she said, her hand stroking his arm. “You just bite the neck and drink what comes out.” She sped behind the girl, a knife appearing in her hand as she pushed the brunette forward until she was only a few feet from Mattheo. “I’ll even get it started for you.”

In one quick motion, Nyx swept the knife across the side of the girl’s neck, creating a shallow cut that began bleeding immediately. The girl didn’t even react as Mattheo felt his fangs break through the gums of his mouth again. He was in front of the girl in an instant, biting down harshly around the cut. The blood hit his mouth in a burst of flavor. It was delicious, heavenly, satisfying, all words he would have never thought to apply to blood. He drank his fill, feeling the girl slowly go limp in his arms. Finally, he withdrew his head from her neck.

Entranced, Nyx stared at Mattheo, at the blood dripping down his chin, at the red in his eyes and the sharp points of his new fangs. His tongue flicked out to lick his perfect lips once, twice, before he dropped the girl’s body and raised his hand to wipe his face. Nyx sped in front of him, grabbing his wrist before it could complete its journey. Slowly, she leaned in. Licking a stripe up his throat to the corner of his mouth, she cleaned the trail of blood that had escaped.

Mattheo could only stare at her, eyes blown wide and every nerve ending standing on end. He could feel everything as if in slow motion - the wetness of her tongue, the softness of her hand on his wrist. His nostrils flared as her scent hit him - sweet and addicting, so strong and yet he couldn’t get enough. 

Nyx leaned back to look up at him - Merlin her eyes. He could pick out every single speck in them, the swirls of light and dark silvers, blues, greens, and golds so overwhelmingly complex and beautiful that he can’t believe anyone could ever describe them with such a simple term as gray. 

“How are you feeling, Matty?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Nyx laughed at that. The action sent yet another wave of her scent to him, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more. Without thinking, he buried his face into the crook of her neck, brushing his nose against her pulse point and breathing in deep. Still not satisfied, he nuzzled deeper, making her stumble back a bit. He could hear her say something, could feel the vibrations in her throat, but he couldn’t distinguish the words through the overwhelming scent of her.

Mattheo needed more. Needed to breathe her in, consume her, crawl inside her very bones and live there. The soft rhythm of her blood rushing through her arteries so tantalizingly close to the surface of her skin had sent his thoughts into a frenzy, unable to focus on anything other than Nyx. Before he realized it, Mattheo had bitten into her neck. The taste of her blood in his mouth engulfed him. He couldn’t think of anything else, couldn’t do anything but bite harder. 

Nyx stumbled back again, pushed by Mattheo’s uncontrolled new strength onto the bed. Mattheo followed her, drinking deep until his thirst was quenched and his thoughts finally regained some semblance of order. He instantly withdrew, searching Nyx’s eyes for any sign of anger or pain at what he had just done. 

Nyx smiled up at him, her fingers tangling in his hair and her legs wrapping around his waist. She laughed softly again before murmuring, “It’s ok, baby. I don’t mind.”

“You-you don’t?” Salazar, had her eyes always been this bright? 

Mattheo was still hovering over Nyx on the bed, holding himself up by one arm resting near her head. He abruptly became aware that his other hand was planted on her hip, and that her hand was soothingly rubbing up and down his arm. Her other hand remained in his hair, combing softly through his hair. Every sensation was heightened, his nerves eager to report every spot their skins touched.

“I don’t, Matty. In fact,” Nyx leaned up a little and simultaneously tugged his head down until their lips were almost touching, “I liked it.”

Mattheo felt frozen, tranced into stillness by Nyx’s mere presence, let alone her teasing words and soft caresses. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, could only feel. He could hear every breath she took, every pump of blood through her heart, every slight shift against the bed beneath her. Her scent filled his nostrils - from her breath, her skin, and the drying blood on her neck. And - something else. Another scent, even more sweet, but also slightly sour on his tongue.

He recognized it. How could he not, when he had spent hours buried in that same sweetness, drawing wave after wave of it from inside her? He knew exactly what it was. The realization rushed through his blood, making his eyes widen and his hips instinctively grind against hers as his dick hardened. The small sparks of pleasure were amplified to a wildfire spreading through his groin and up his spine from just a single roll. Mattheo groaned, dropping his head back into the crook of her neck as he experimentally rolled his hips again. But the intense sensations, combined with the scent of Nyx’s blood now directly under his nose, were too much for him. He retreated, unwrapping her legs from around his waist and standing.

Nyx sat up on the edge of the bed, watching Mattheo carefully as he hung his head. 

“We don’t have to do that right now if you’re not ready. We can wait until you’re-”

“I want to.”

“Matty, it’s really ok,-”

“No, I really want to, it’s just . . . A lot. All at once.”

Nyx stood up, reaching Mattheo’s hand and taking it in her own. She stroked the back of it softly, bringing his palm to her lips. The delicate contact grounded Mattheo, calming his overeager senses. His other hand instinctively reached for her waist, sneaking his hand under her shirt to stroke the smooth skin of her lower back. 

Like magnets, the couple moved closer together until there was no more space between them. Nyx rested her head on Mattheo’s chest, her arms circling around his back and one hand resting gently in his hair. Mattheo squeezed her tight to his chest as he buried his face into her hair, breathing in her overwhelming yet comforting scent.

“It’s so much. I can’t focus, everything’s so loud and I-”

“Just focus on me, baby. You’ll get used to it. It gets better”

Mattheo shuddered, burying his face harder into Nyx’s hair. She started humming softly, swaying them back and forth. They stood for a while, Nyx comforting Mattheo softly. 

Eventually, Mattheo pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against Nyx’s. 

“Thank you.”

Nyx hummed in acknowledgement, gazing up at Mattheo’s face. His chocolate brown eyes stared back at her, completely entranced. Slowly enough to let him move away if he wanted, Nyx reached up on her tiptoes, brushing Mattheo’s lips briefly with her own. He stayed frozen as Nyx pulled back. His eyes had closed, but he didn’t bother to open them before Nyx was kissing him again. This time he reacted, kissing her back and bringing one of his hands up to tangle in her hair.

Nyx deepened the kiss, licking along the seam of his lips. Mattheo acquiesced by opening his mouth with a groan. He quickly melted into the kiss, allowing Nyx to guide him onto the bed. She straddled him as he laid on the black silk sheets. Their kisses were gentle but desperate, Nyx cupping his face gently while Mattheo gripped her hair tightly. Nyx pulled back, still stroking his cheek.

“Better?”

Mattheo nodded breathlessly, eyes blown wide and fixed on her swollen lips.

“Wanna keep going?” she asked, trailing one of her hands down to stroke his exposed collarbone.

“Yes. Fuc-Fuck yes.”

Without further ado, Nyx pulled off her shirt, leaving her in a lacy black bra. Mattheo’s eyes blew even wider, lust-filled black taking over the rich chocolate brown. He sat up, lips attaching to her collarbone as his hands reached under her miniskirt to grip her ass. Nyx moaned, her back arching into Mattheo’s touch as she undid her bra. Mattheo trailed his kisses to her breasts, leaving a trail of dark purple marks behind. He nipped at the top of her breast, drawing a thin trail of blood which he moaned at the taste of.

Nyx quickly pushed him back, his head hitting the pillows as she kissed him desperately, hands creeping under his shirt and tracing his abs. She began to grind helplessly against his bulge, earning a breathy moan from him in response. Barley pulling away, she yanked his shirt over his head before diving back in to kiss his throat. Mattheo groaned, tilting his head back as he bucked his hips up making her let out a moan against his skin in surprise.

Nyx nipped her way down Mattheo’s neck to his chest, leaving small wounds that bled for a few seconds before healing. She pulled back to look in awe as a bite above his pec stopped bleeding within seconds, running her thumb over where it had been to see that not even a scar remained.

“So fucking pretty,” she muttered, completely entranced. “My fucking pretty vampire boy.”

“All yours, gorgeous."

She grinned, a slow, wide grin that meant trouble was coming. “Of course you’re all mine, Matty. And I’m all yours.” She sped off his lap, removing her clothes at super speed then returning, leaning in close, whispering seductively in his ear. “Your turn, pretty boy. Get those pants off and let's have some fun.” 

He shuddered at her words and the way her breath hit his neck. Quickly, desperately, he shimmied his pants and boxers down his legs under Nyx’s approving and lustful stare. His cock sprang up, heavy and already dripping with precum. She guided him back on the bed til his head hit the pillows, his body spread out under her as she straddled his hips.

“Tell me if it’s too much, promise?” she asked, her hand stroking the side of his neck. He nodded urgently. “Words, I need words, Matty.”

“Yes, gods yes, just please do something already!”

She leaned back, her hands coming to rest on his chest. “Patience, all good things come in time Matty. But since you’ve been such a good boy so far, I guess I’ll give you what you want.”

She lifted herself up, bracing herself on his chest, then slowly lowered herself down around him, watching as his eyes closed and he threw his head back. Mattheo’s hands flew to her hips, gripping with the enhanced strength he didn’t quite know how to control yet.

When she had sat all the way down on him, her velvety walls fluttering around his length, she paused for a moment allowing Mattheo to adjust. Eventually, he raised his head, his grip on her hips loosening imperceptibly. His voice was rough in that way that always made her clench involuntarily. “You feel so fucking good, gorgeous.”

Nyx smiled, grinding her hips in a slow, small circle that made Mattheo groan. “You ready for the fun part?”

He nodded, eyes fixed on her in awe. Slowly, she lifted herself up, then sat back down, starting a slow, gentle rhythm that nonetheless had Mattheo groaning and gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. He tipped his head back against the silk pillows, exposing the column of his throat to her searching lips. He whimpered, a small, desperate sound she would definitely hold against him later, one hand coming up to tangle in her hair and hold her head against his neck. 

Her bouncing sped up slightly as she whispered huskily against his ear, “Feel good, baby?” Her tongue darted out to lick a stripe from the base of his throat to the bolt of his jaw. He whimpered again in agreement, shuddering as he felt the warmth of her mouth against him. 

Mattheo bucked his hips instinctively as he felt his climax approaching. His hand that was tangled in her hair tightened its grip, as he started to guide her to bounce faster with the hand on her hip. Nyx could feel herself getting closer too.

As their climaxes washed over them, Mattheo brought Nyx’s head up, kissing her deeply, letting their moans dissolve into each other’s mouths. She slowed her movements as she rode out her high, eventually laying beside him to bask in the afterglow of their orgasms. Her hand came to rest on his chest, tracing small patterns against his bare skin. 

After a while, Nyx kissed Mattheo's temple, letting her lips linger on his skin a moment longer before asking, “Wanna go again?”