Thrills dance up and down her spine as Elisa makes her way to the records. Giles wasn't joking; the creature really is bewitched. She's endeared by how adorable he is when flustered, and when his gaze lingers it ignites a fire inside her. No one has ever looked at her like he does.

He loves how experienced she is, how she knows what she likes and what she wants, how to get it. He loves it when she takes control and worships him, leaving him a whimpering mess. And when he returns the favor, oh god… the first time, after he'd recovered from climax, the look in his eyes made her core tighten in ways she never felt before; it was a look that said: You've had your fun. Now it's my turn.

She clenches her thighs together, eager for what her lover will do once he gives her that look. But first…

Elisa lowers the needle to the record and her apartment comes to life with music. She re-enters the bathroom, her creature right where she left him, as if under a spell.

Those fingers through my hair
That sly come-hither stare
That strips my conscience bare
It's witchcraft

She recalls hearing how he'd been worshiped as a god, and the very idea that he is kneeling before her, stokes the fire into an inferno. She wants him so badly. Elisa takes his face in her hands, sees his eyes flit to her lips, catching in her peripheral his hands moving, forming signs.

Please.

Blue pulses in her vision. She has made a god beg. She kisses him and he moans into her mouth. His cool hands run up her legs and that sense of power returns to her, breaking the kiss to his displeasure.

No hands, she signs, and he whimpers.

Elisa kisses him again. The smallest of sounds escapes her throat when his long, smooth tongue coils around hers and suckles it. She smirks against his lips. Oh, he is going to let her have it once she's done.

And I've got no defense for it
The heat is too intense for it
What good would common sense for it do?

When they pull apart Elisa takes a moment to see him. He stares back, panting, full scarred lips swollen, eyes half-lidded, markings pulsing blue in his particular way of blushing. He looks delirious with lust. Elisa runs her eyes down his muscular, scaled body and contemplates the gloves. She makes a show of taking the middle finger between her teeth and pulling it off, holds the other in front of his mouth.

Following her example the creature opens his mouth, baring his lethal guillotine teeth. Elisa bites back a gasp when he licks the tip of her gloved finger before clamping down on the fabric. She slips her arm out easily and the creature rumbles at the exposed skin. He likes seeing her toned arms.

Here Elisa loops one of them around his shoulder, grips the plated back of his head and the creature accommodates, offering his throat to her. Just as he lavishes particular attention to her own sensitive neck, Elisa sucks and kisses his, sliding her tongue up the length of it, sinking her teeth into the flesh. Her hands keep busy, kneading his hard muscles and tracing the plates of his abdomen. The creature moans and sighs, remembering her command and grips the cloth mat under him.

'Cause it's witchcraft
Wicked witchcraft
And although, I know, it's strictly taboo

Elisa's mouth trails down to his chest, kisses the scars on his pectorals, her hands reaching around under his arms. He squawks and jerks his hips a little when she takes his perfect, firm ass into her hands. Elisa decides to take her time here. While her mouth tends to his abdominal plates her fingers grip, squeeze, massage the impeccably-shaped flesh of his backside.

Lower and lower she goes, down to the swollen plates between his legs; Elisa removes her hat for now, wanting him to see what she does to him. For a moment she's fascinated by how similar his wet slit looks to hers. She glances up, sees him peering down at her, and presses her mouth to his plates, watching him throw his head back with a cry. She suckles it, works it with her tongue like he would with hers; the plates throb and bulge and Elisa backs away enough for it to open and release his cock. Her creature sighs in relief.

Positioning herself so that she's practically lying on her stomach she mouths the bulge at the base of him, loving the strangled yawp this produces. She doesn't take it in her hands just yet, content to let them slide from his ass to his strong thighs. Soon she moves up to his shaft, tongue sliding along every ridge, teasing him all the way up to his wide, arrowhead tip.

When you arouse the need in me
My heart says yes indeed in me
Proceed with what you're leading me to

He's whimpering, writhing, panting under her, legs moving out from under him and spreading wide. Elisa feels merciful and so takes the head into her mouth, eliciting a loud moan and pump of his hips. She keeps her eyes on him as her tongue cradles the head, watching the creature bite his lip and his eyes roll back.

She sinks lower, taking as much of his thick length as she can before sliding back up, tongue swirling around his ridges, sucks the head. Finally she lets her hands on him. One hand grips his shaft, so thick her fingers don't meet, strokes it in time with each bob of her head. Elisa's free hand tends to that bulb at the base of him and squeezes it tenderly. The creature fights to control himself and throws his arms over the rim of the tub, his claws sending gouges into the ceramic edge.

Her passion undoes him, tears him asunder, remakes him, blinds him to everything but her. They form a rhythm as naturally as breathing, as if they've done this a million times. His hips rock into her as she sucks down, one hand twisting and the other squeezing. He throbs in her mouth and the knot swells in her hand. When he comes with a rasping marine bellow Elisa feels like a force of nature. A tempest of ecstasy roars through him and it's because of her.

She swallows as much as she can until the need for air forces her to release him. Elisa leans in and lavishes the creature's neck and chest while he recovers, still cradling his cock in her palm.

It's such an ancient pitch
But one I wouldn't switch
'Cause there's no nicer witch than you

As his breath evens out Elisa swears she can feel a thrumming sensation from him. Something in the way he moves renders her weak in the knees; how he rises and unfolds his body with such masculine grace and sensuality, looms over her in his toreador stance. Blue radiates from him and paints the humble bathroom with a borealis, and when he looks at her Elisa wonders if this was how Psyche felt when she beheld Eros for the first time.

All he takes is a step towards her and the knowledge that he intends to return her passions ten-fold – would return it a hundred-fold – sends Elisa's blood dancing in her veins, hyper-aware of her need for him. She's had her fun. A low, dangerous purr rumbles from him like a motor, or like that if a hungry predator.

Another step and he smiles, eyes gleaming. A god eager to serve his bride. He signs.

My turn.