"Illya!" Damn, I hated it when he got like this. Nothing got him going faster than an Innocent gone bad. Of course, having said Innocent attempt to literally stab you in the back during sex, that would annoy me as well.

My partner was raging and you don't often see Illya that mad. The Innocent had made two mistakes. She didn't understand human anatomy and she underestimated Illya. You never try to stab someone in the back through their shoulder blade and Illya had punched her halfway back to Bismarck probably before she even registered anything.

Now I was just trying to calm him down enough to patch him up.

"Leave me alone, Napoleon!"

"Not likely!" He'd pulled on a pair of pants, but he was still shirtless, blood trickling down his spine, his chest still heaving with anger. He hated to be made mortal, if even for only a second. "Let me help!"

"You can't!" I understood the frustration and humiliation, nerves awash in testosterone, more than he realized. I stood by, day after day, watching women flirt with him, flirting myself, but to no avail.

I had him trapped in the bathroom now, his back to the wall. Standing before him I studied him quietly, smiling as gently as I could to calm him. "Yes, I think I can."

I reached out and touched his face, watching his eyes widen - they really are lovely eyes - and my mouth followed my fingers. I waited to see if he would lash out, but he didn't.

His mouth opened to mine when my tongue begged entrance and the only protest he made when I eased my way into his pants was a groan. He was rock hard, but no more so than I was. I'd wanted him for so long that I was afraid to pause for even a moment.

I unzipped my own pants, letting my penis tumble free and caught both of them in one handful. I thrust and he groaned again, his head tipping back. Mmm, Illya's neck, I took my time with it, licking and biting as my movements grew harder, more demanding with each rock of my hips, grinding myself against him until I felt rather than heard him cry out, felt him pulsating against me as my fist grew slick with his semen. I followed a breath later and let my hand still.

Illya's chest was still heaving, but for an entirely different reason now.

"Better?" I whispered into his nearest ear and felt him nod. "Enough or more?"

We made a mess of that wall – blood just doesn't come out easily. But it wasn't half the mess we made of the bed. Taking Illya, feeling him beneath me, so trusting and willing, I made myself a mental note to send some flowers to that poor Innocent in the hospital, but considering the way Illya is bucking and groaning beneath me, it'll be later, much later…