Chapter 59: Menergy

The katana on the screen slices through another demon, but I can barely focus on Sekiro. My mind keeps drifting to Erica down in the basement, working her witchy magic. ‘What kind of spell is she cooking up for Riley anyway? What will it even look like?’

I tap my controller restlessly, trying to ignore the gnawing anxiety in my gut. It’s stupid how much I need Erica around. I’m like a lost puppy without her.

“Dammit,” I mutter as my character dies for the tenth time. The room feels too quiet, too empty without Erica’s presence. Her cigarette smoke usually hangs in the air, a constant reminder that she’s nearby. But now there’s nothing.

I toss the controller aside and stand up, pacing. “Pull it together, Jason,” I tell myself. But it’s no use. The urge to see Erica is overwhelming.

Before I know it, I’m heading downstairs. The marble floors are cold under my bare feet as I make my way to the basement door. Just as I reach for the handle, a stern voice stops me.

“And where do you think you’re going, young man?”

I spin around to see Amelia standing there, arms crossed. Even in her maid uniform, she looks intimidating.

“Oh, uh, hey, Amelia,” I stammer. “I was just... gonna check on Erica.”

Amelia’s green eyes narrow. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that. Miss Knight left explicit instructions not to let anyone disturb her.”

“But-” I start to protest.

“No buts,” Amelia cuts me off firmly. “You know how Miss Knight feels about her privacy being invaded.”

“Yeah.” I lie.

‘I have no idea. This is the only thing Erica’s ever been this secretive about. I mean, she told me later on to not tell Vivian or Rachel that I knew they were witches, but for some reason, Amelia is in the know about me? It’s weird, but I really just want to see Erica.’

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “Amelia, could you... maybe just go tell Erica I’m feeling lonely? I know she’s busy, but...”

Amelia scoffs, her eyebrows arching. “It’s been barely an hour, Jason. Surely you can manage without Miss Knight for that long?”

I just stare at her, unable to hide the desperation in my eyes. After a moment, Amelia’s stern expression softens, and she breaks into a gentle smile.

“Well, isn’t this a refreshing change,” she muses, her voice tinged with amusement. “It’s nice to see a boy so infatuated with a girl for once. Usually, it’s the other way around.”

She sighs, smoothing out her apron. “Very well. I’ll go tell Miss Erica that you miss her terribly. But don’t get your hopes up.”

I beam at her, relief washing over me. “Thanks, Amelia.”

As Amelia disappears down the basement stairs, I’m struck with an idea. I’ll make dinner for Erica! That’ll show her how much I care, right? With a newfound sense of purpose, I bound towards the kitchen, my bare feet slapping against the cold marble floors.

But as I stand in the gleaming, state-of-the-art kitchen, surrounded by chrome appliances and granite countertops, I realize I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing. For all I understand, the fancy stovetop might as well be the control panel of a spaceship.

I open the fridge, hoping for inspiration, but the array of fresh produce and gourmet ingredients only serves to intimidate me further. What was I thinking? I can barely make toast without burning it, let alone prepare a meal worthy of Erica.

As my anxiety sets in, I hear the soft padding of footsteps behind me. Before I can turn around, I feel warm arms wrap around my waist, and a familiar scent of cigarettes envelops me.

“Well, well,” Erica’s husky voice purrs in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Isn’t this a sight for sore eyes? My man, finally in the kitchen where he belongs.”

Her teeth graze my earlobe playfully, and I can feel the curve of her smile against my skin. “Just kidding,” she adds with a chuckle, her breath hot on my neck.

I lean back into her embrace, relief washing over me at her presence. But suddenly, I feel her stiffen. Her arms loosen around me as she spins me to face her, her blue eyes wide with realization.

“Oh my god,” she gasps, a hand flying to her mouth. “I totally forgot for a second.” Her brow furrows in curiosity. “Do the women cook more over where your from?”

I can’t help but laugh at her sudden change in demeanor. “Yeah, they do,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly.

Erica’s eyes grow even wider if that’s possible. “Holy shit,” she breathes. “Is that why you can’t cook?”

The laughter bubbles up from my chest before I can stop it. “Yeah, pretty much,” I confess, grinning at her bewildered expression.

Erica shakes her head in amazement, her messy blonde ponytail swinging. “That’s wild,” she muses, leaning against the counter.

Erica’s eyes light up with mischief. “You know what? I think I need to hear more about this world of yours. Come on,” she says, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the kitchen.

We make our way up the grand staircase, our footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. Erica’s grip on my hand is firm and possessive, sending little thrills through me.

She takes me to our room, and to my surprise, Erica bypasses the bed and settles on the plush carpet on the ground. She pats the spot next to her, and I obediently sit down, our knees touching. The fire crackles softly, casting a warm glow over us.

Erica’s blue eyes are intense as she looks at me, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Alright, spill,” she says. “I want to hear all about your old world. What was it like?”

I lean back on my hands, considering. “Hmm,” I muse, “Really similar to this world in a lot of ways. The biggest difference is obviously just the gender stuff.”

Erica leans forward, intrigued. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Well, for starters, Justine was a boy named Justin in my world,” I explain.

Erica’s eyebrows shoot up. “No shit? What else?”

I scratch my chin, thinking. “The gender ratio was different too. It was pretty much 1:1 back home, not 3:1 like it is here.”

At this, Erica cocks her head, her brow furrowing. “Wait, what? You’re saying there were as many men as women?”

I nod, watching as she processes this information. Her eyes widen, and she lets out a low whistle. “Damn,” she mutters. “That must have been... chaotic.”

I shrug, a half-smile playing on my lips. “Actually, it was the men who were the horny ones back home.”

Erica’s eyes narrow, and she lets out an exasperated sigh. “You already told me that.”

“Oh, right,” I say, feeling a bit sheepish. “Sorry, it’s all kind of a blur sometimes.”

She rolls her eyes, but I can see the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Alright. But here’s what I don’t get. If you’re so used to a world with one woman for every guy, why didn’t you go crazy when you got here? I mean, look at Louis. He’s like a kid in a candy store, trying to date every girl he meets.”

I take a deep breath, my eyes meeting hers. “Honestly? My whole life, I’ve only ever wanted to be with someone who could treat me the way you do. Someone strong, possessive, a little scary sometimes...” I trail off, feeling my cheeks heat up.

Erica’s eyes soften, a slow smile spreading across her face. Without warning, she lunges forward, pinning me to the ground. Her hands grip my wrists, holding them above my head as she straddles me. The sudden movement knocks the breath out of me, and I find myself staring up into her intense blue eyes.

Erica leans in, her lips brushing against mine in a teasing dance. The contact is featherlight, soft as a whisper, and it sends a jolt of electricity down my spine. I gasp, my eyes fluttering shut as I give in to the sensation.

Her grip on my wrists tightens, holding me in place as she deepens the kiss. Her tongue darts out, tracing the outline of my lips before delving into the warmth of my mouth. I can taste the faint hint of tobacco and mint on her tongue, a heady combination that makes my head spin.

I moan softly, my body responding to her touch with an intensity that leaves me breathless. My heart races, thudding wildly in my chest as I arch my back, pressing myself closer to her. Erica chuckles, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down my spine.

“Someone like me, huh?” she murmurs against my lips, her voice a seductive purr that makes my skin tingle. “You sure you can handle it?”

I nod, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “Yes,” I manage to croak out, my voice barely above a whisper. “I want this. I want you.”

Erica’s eyes gleam, a predator’s smile spreading across her face. “Good,” she says, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Because I’m not planning on letting you go anytime soon.”

And with that, Erica’s demeanor shifts in an instant. Her eyes twist into a manic, desperate gaze, her pupils dilating with feral intensity. Her grip on my shoulders tightens, her fingers digging into my skin as she suddenly lifts me off the floor and throws me onto the bed.

I gasp, the wind knocked out of me as I try to catch my breath. But before I can even fully register what’s happening, Erica is on top of me, her hands tearing at my clothes with reckless abandon. Buttons fly off my shirt, scattering across the room like confetti, as she rips my pants off with a fervor that leaves me dizzy.

‘I swear she makes me wear button-ups just so she can ruin them.’

“Mine,” she growls, her voice dripping with possessive desire. “Mine, mine, mine.”

I can’t help but submit to her, my body responding to her touch with an intensity that leaves me trembling. I raise my hips to help her, my hands fumbling to remove the rest of my clothes as she rips off her own. Her hair falls around her face in wild, messy waves, framing her face like a halo of chaos.

And then, she’s straddling me, her wet, tight pussy gripping my cock like a vice as she impales herself on me. I cry out in pleasure, my back arching off the bed as she rides me with a ferocity that takes my breath away.

“Mine,” she growls again, her voice echoing through the room like a primal battle cry. “Mine mine mine mine.”

I can feel her every movement, her hips grinding against mine in an intoxicating rhythm that sends shockwaves of pleasure through my body. I grab onto her waist, holding her close as I thrust upwards, meeting her movements with my own.

My heart races as Erica leans down, her wild hair cascading around us like a curtain, blocking out the rest of the world. Her lips are on mine, desperate and possessive, and I can taste the feral intensity in her kiss. My hands roam over her toned body, tracing the curves of her muscles and feeling the fierce trembling that courses through her.

And then, without warning, she grips my throat. I gasp, my eyes widening in surprise, but there’s so much love in her gaze that I can’t help but submit to her. Her thumbs press down on the sides of my neck, cutting off my air, but it’s not out of anger or malice. It’s a possessive act, a claiming of what she believes to be rightfully hers.

I put my hand over hers, my fingers intertwining with hers as she chokes me. My other hand grips her hip, pulling her closer as I thrust into her. We both moan, our bodies moving in perfect sync, lost in the chaos of our love. My vision starts to darken around the edges, but I don’t fight it. Instead, I give myself over to her completely, trusting that she’ll never truly hurt me.

“I love you,” I try to say, but the words come out garbled and weak.

Erica’s grip on my throat loosens just enough for me to catch my breath, and she whispers back, “I know. I know how much you love me. I feel it, Jason.”

The pressure on my throat eases, but her possessive hold remains, a constant reminder of her dominance. My heart races, blood pounding in my ears as I drink in her words. Tears well up in my eyes, spilling over onto my cheeks as I’m overwhelmed by the intensity of my emotions. She’s used to this, to the effect she has on me. She releases my throat completely, letting me breathe freely, but the damage is already done. I’m a wreck, a sobbing mess beneath her, completely lost in my love for her.

Erica’s eyes gleam with satisfaction as she watches me crumble beneath her. She leans down, her lips brushing against my ear as she whispers, “I love it when mommy makes you cry because of how much you love her. It’s so cute, Jason.” Her words send a shiver down my spine, and I can’t help but whimper in response.

I’m so consumed by her, by the feel of her pussy clenching around my cock, by the taste of her kisses, by the salt of my own tears that I feel like I’m losing myself completely in the moment. It’s like I’m drowning but in the best possible way. And then, just when I think I can’t take anymore, Erica starts to climax.

“AHHH, I love you so fucking much, Jason!” She screams my name, her body convulsing on top of mine as she rides out her release.

I feel the warmth of her juices as they gush over my cock, mixed with the sting of our sweat, the taste of her tongue still lingering on my lips. She’s all I can think about, all I can feel, all I want. Even in the aftermath of our passion, she has me pinned beneath her, my arms above my head, her eyes still locked on mine. I whimper and sob, unable to speak, but she seems to read my thoughts. She kisses me gently on the forehead, wiping away a tear with her thumb.

“Cum for mommy, Jason.” Her voice is low and husky, sending shivers down my spine. “Show me how much you love me, baby.”

And just like that, I’m lost in a haze of pleasure. My body quakes, and my cock throbs as I empty myself into her until it feels like there’s nothing left. I can feel every twitch and spasm run through me, like electric shocks firing between my legs and radiating outwards. My vision blurs as tears stream down my face, and I can’t help but cry out with each wave of ecstasy. Erica’s grip tightens around my wrists, holding me in place as she bounces on my cock, milking every last drop from me.

“That’s right, cum for mommy...” she pants, her breath hot against my neck. “You’re such a good boy...”

Erica’s body finally goes limp, collapsing onto mine, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. She’s heavy and warm, like a blanket on a cold night. She relaxes into me, using my shoulders to support her weight. Our mixed sweat scent invades my nose, making me lightheaded.

As we lay there, tangled in each other’s arms, I felt Erica’s breathing slowly even out. The room is quiet except for our synchronized heartbeats.

Erica shifts slightly, nuzzling her face into the crook of my neck. Her messy blonde hair tickles my cheek, and I can feel her eyelashes flutter against my skin. She lets out a contented sigh, her breath warm and soft against my collarbone.

“I love you, Jason,” she murmurs sleepily, her voice thick with exhaustion and affection. The words seem to hang in the air, filling the room with a warmth that has nothing to do with the fire.

I feel her lips brush against my neck, followed by the gentle scrape of her teeth. She bites down lazily, not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to leave a mark. It’s a possessive gesture, a reminder that I’m hers.

A chuckle escapes my lips, partly from the ticklish sensation and partly from the overwhelming love I feel for this woman. “I love you too, Erica,” I whisper back, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back.

Suddenly curiosity briefly takes over. “Hey Erica, what’s going on in the basement.

Erica getting unusually cagey simply says, “None of your business.”