Erik stayed seated a while longer, giving Carmilla time to catch her breath. Her hand still rested in his, cool now but no longer shaking the way it had been. Runi sat on the neighboring bed, both hands clenched in the blanket. Her eyes were red, but that small smile still sat at the corner of her mouth.

"Lie down and rest." Erik’s voice was low, no longer sharp the way it had been when he made the two of them stand. "Contract backlash isn’t something you fight with willpower. You just lost a home and a Contract. Your bodies are still stitching themselves back together. The harder you try to look steady, the slower you heal."

Carmilla lifted her head. Her dark red eyes were still wet, but clearer. "You... won’t change your mind?"

"If I said I trust you, I won’t." Erik released her hand, stood, and pulled the chair back into place. "Assets, housing, work... later. Right now the two of you just need to stay in bed, take the medicine, and let Meira handle the rest. I don’t need you kneeling. I don’t need you proving anything else today."

Runi nodded fast. Carmilla looked at him a few more seconds, then slowly lay down, black hair spreading across the white pillow. This time she didn’t try to sit back up. Erik paused at the door, looked at both of them once more, and added, "Call if you need anything. Don’t get out of bed on your own."

The door closed behind him. The east-wing treatment corridor was quiet except for the steady beep of mana monitors from the rooms on either side. Erik let out a breath and rubbed his temple. He meant to find Elowen. She had come to the hospital with him that morning. She was probably in Felyn’s ward, or talking with the Healers.

He had just turned the second corner when a hand locked around his wrist and yanked him inside. The wooden door slammed shut. The private room was darker than the hall. The curtains were almost fully drawn; only a thin strip of sunlight cut across the carpet. Erik opened his mouth to ask, then caught the familiar scent — white flowers mixed with the clean medicinal smell of the hospital. Meira.

She shoved him back against the door, her full body pressing hard into his chest. Today’s white dress had slipped off one shoulder. Her golden hair was slightly mussed. Her pointed ears were flushed pink. The mature face that usually held a matron’s composure was burning from cheek to throat. Her breath came hot and ragged against his skin.

"I’m sorry..." Meira’s voice broke. Her mouth was only a handspan from his. "I’m sorry, Erik. I can’t take it anymore."

Her large breasts crushed against his chest, soft enough that he felt every curve through the thin fabric. Her waist pressed into his stomach. Her thighs lightly clamped his. Her whole body was fever-hot. When hunger hit a high-rank Succubus, the calm shell did not last. Meira was already past that point.

"Since last night..." Her lips trembled. "After I tasted you, my head hasn’t been quiet for a minute. I worked. I signed papers. I made rounds. And the whole time my throat kept remembering that heat. I want to stick to you. I want to smell you. I want to... swallow you again."

Her green eyes locked on him, wet and dark. Not a mother’s look. Not a hospital owner’s look. Just a woman who was starving.

Erik set a hand on her shoulder, ready to push her back. This room was not soundproof the way the special wards were. Elowen was somewhere in the building. If anyone opened the door halfway through, everything would collapse. Meira felt that hesitation. She didn’t plead with a long speech. She only pressed closer, forehead against his collarbone, hot breath sliding down his neck. Her fingers clenched his lapel until her knuckles went white.

He looked at her for a moment. Then he sighed and nodded.

The latch in Meira came off. Both arms locked around his neck. Her breasts crushed harder against him. Her whole body shook with relief. "You’re too good to me." Her voice caught, a whisper against his ear. "Good enough that I’m afraid. Afraid you’re a soap bubble. I can touch you, hold you, and one light tap will pop you. I’ve lived long enough to know good men don’t last in this world."

Erik stroked her head. The golden hair was soft and warm under his palm. "I’m not a bubble. I also don’t disappear just because you ask for a little."

Meira pressed her lips together. She pulled back just far enough to reach into her dress pocket and take out a collar. Black leather, thin lining on the inside, a small silver clasp. A slender chain was already attached to the front ring. Erik went still. For a second he thought she meant to put it on him — some inverted joke, or a strange gift. Meira moved faster than the thought. She lifted her chin and locked the collar around her own throat. Metal clicked softly. Then she lifted the end of the chain and set it in his palm.

"Help me." Her voice was low, pleading. "Don’t ask too much. Just hold it."

Erik looked at the collar on her white throat, then at the chain in his hand. A wealthy matron, a high-rank Healer, the mother of his fiancée, had put a collar on herself and handed him the leash. He said nothing. His fingers closed on the chain and gave it one short, clean tug.

Meira moaned. The sound was short and wet, slipping out of her throat before she could swallow it. Her body lurched into him with the pull, breasts hitting his chest, hips flush against his. The collar tightened just enough for her to feel that she was being held. Blood rushed to her face. Her pointed ears trembled.

"Touch me..." she whispered, lips against his neck. "Please."

Erik drew a deep breath. Heat had already started moving in him too. One hand kept the chain. The other lifted her chin, thumb sliding over her cheek and down to her mouth. Meira’s lips were hot, a little swollen from how hard she had been biting them. He stroked down her throat, over the leather, then lower to the full, rising curve of her chest. Soft flesh spilled into his palm through the fabric at once. Meira shuddered. Every pass of his hand pulled a smaller moan out of her, as if she was afraid someone in the hall would hear and still could not hold it in.

He pulled the neckline down. Both large breasts spilled out, white and heavy, faint blue veins running down toward the nipples. The pink tips were already hard, shaking with her breath. He squeezed. Soft flesh overflowed between his fingers. His thumb dragged over a nipple, rubbed, pinched lightly. Meira arched into his hand, head tipping back, the collar pulling taut because the chain was still in his other fist. "Erik... a little harder... I can take it."

He dragged the dress up over her chest and left those heavy breasts hanging bare in front of him. His palms covered them, kneading, stroking from the underside up to the nipples and back down. When he pinched both pink tips between two fingers and tugged them outward, Meira bit her lip white. Tears of stimulation welled at the corners of her eyes. Her hips rubbed against his thigh. She was already wet; the slickness soaked through the thin fabric and clung to his pants. The scent of a Spirit Succubus’s lust filled the narrow room, sweet and heavy.

She couldn’t stand still anymore. Meira surged forward and kissed him. It was not a matron’s kiss. Her mouth opened, tongue thrusting in, finding his and sucking hard as if she meant to drain the spit from him. Wet sounds rose right against the door. Both her hands locked behind his nape. Her bare breasts crushed against him, hard nipples scraping his shirt. He answered, jerking the chain once each time she sucked too deep, making her moan into his mouth. Meira’s tongue was long and soft, wrapping his, pulling, swallowing, giving him no room to breathe.

When they broke apart, a strand of saliva still hung between their mouths. Meira stuck out her tongue — a Spirit Succubus’s tongue, softer and longer than a human’s — and licked from his chin down his throat, slow and wet, leaving a glossy trail. She followed the chain down. Her knees hit the carpet. The dress flared around her hips. The black collar stood out against white skin. The chain ran from her throat up into Erik’s hand like a tether.

Meira looked up. The green in her eyes was no longer clear. She opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and let out a short, hoarse bark, thick with shame. "Woof..." She barked again, face red all the way to her pointed ears, and didn’t stop. Her hips swayed. Her large breasts swayed with them. "Woof... Master... please give me that huge cock of yours."

Erik leaned against the door and looked at what was at his feet. A woman beautiful enough to silence a room just by walking in, a perfect body, those large breasts still bare and sheened with sweat, owner of this hospital and four commercial centers — kneeling between his legs, wearing a collar, barking like a dog, begging for his cock. The contrast hit instinct straight on. Blood dropped hard. He went painfully stiff.

He nodded. Tightened the chain. Pulled her face against his crotch.

Meira almost smiled from how happy that made her, then hurried to open his pants. His cock sprang out, heavy, hot, fully hard, the head glossy and flushed. She didn’t take it into her mouth at once. She laid it on her face. The hot shaft pressed against her cheek, the bridge of her nose, her lips. She nuzzled along it slowly, leaving a wet sheen on her skin, then turned her face so the other cheek could take that heat too. "This big... I swallowed you twice last night and I still haven’t memorized it."

Her tongue came out and licked from the base up. Wet. Hot. She licked both sides of the shaft, dragging over every raised vein, then licked the head, wrapping the crown and pulling down so saliva stretched in a string. She spread spit along the full length until the whole cock shone, sliding in her palm every time she closed her fingers. Hot breath hit the thin skin at the tip and forced Erik to brace his shoulder against the door.

Then she opened her mouth and took that glossy head in. Soft lips closed around the crown. Her tongue stroked the underside. Her throat trembled as she tried to take another inch. Cheeks hollowed. The wet sucking started slow, then sped up. One hand gripped the base. The other gently squeezed his balls, while the chain stayed taut from her collar to Erik’s hand. Every light tug made her moan around him, her throat clamping down on the head as if she meant to keep it, not let it pull free.

He looked down. Golden hair mussed across his thighs. Black collar. Red mouth swallowing him. Large breasts swaying with the bob of her head. Spit ran down her chin, dripped onto the white swell of her chest, slid over a pink nipple, and fell onto her dress. The sight was enough to make him forget he was standing in a private room in a hospital.

Outside the door, Elowen’s voice rose.

"Doctor Lyn, is my mother in the east wing? I just came from Felyn’s room. I didn’t see her."

Another woman’s voice answered, only a few steps from the door. "Lady Meira said she was checking a few empty rooms. She may still be in this wing. Wait a moment. I’ll call for you."

Both of them inside the room went rigid. Meira didn’t have time to pull off. His cock was still in her mouth, her lips still closed around it. Her green eyes flew wide as she looked up at Erik, afraid and still unwilling to let go. He tightened the chain — not to pull, but to signal silence. His thumb pressed lightly against her lip, holding her in place.

The female doctor’s footsteps passed right against the door. Elowen’s voice was still at the end of the hall, bright, thanking someone. Meira trembled. Spit ran down her chin. Her throat was still hot, still clenched around the hard head in her mouth. This time it wasn’t hunger. It was her daughter standing one board of wood away.

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