Shiver, by Ellex, Amnesty [Shark, Slave, Swimming]
Title: Shiver
Author: ellex42
Rating: NC-17 or Adult
Series: Part 2 of the Shiver trilogy. Read Part 1, Predator, which is in turn a sequel to magus_minor’s Shark trilogy.
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Disclaimer: Stargate:Atlantis does not belong to me and I make no material profit from this story.
Warnings: Fairly light BDSM, completely consensual.
Summary: The collective noun for a group of sharks is a shiver.
A/N: Several people asked for a continuation of Predator or the story from Rodney’s POV. It took me several days to even begin to think about contemplating it. I didn’t think I could do either one, but I’ve managed both and even given them a sort of happy ending. I hope you’re happy - I think it broke me. *g*
Amnesty Challenge: I think I’ve managed no less than three challenges here: Shark, Slave, and Swimming.
O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O
If a shark were to stop swimming, the necessary water circulation for respiration would become too low and the animal could suffocate.
--From this entry on Wikipedia.
O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O
Rodney McKay was not used to soul searching or experiencing crises of conscience. It didn’t take him long to decide he didn’t much like either one.
He couldn’t deny, however much he might like to do so, the effect of society on his morals. Society - at least, that of the Western world in general and his Canadian upbringing in particular - dictated that the things he’d been doing to - no, if he was going to be honest with himself, the things he’d been doing with - Colonel Sheppard were wrong. Deviant, perverted, depraved, whatever. He’d always considered himself to be more or less straight and vanilla, if quite tolerant of other people’s various sexual preferences, as long as they didn’t impact on him. He’d never even considered bringing bondage, or sado-masochism, or any kind of dominant/submissive play into his admittedly less than active sex life.
No, he wasn’t being honest again. It wasn’t sado-masochism, it was sadism. The only masochistic part was the amount of time he spent thinking about it and wrestling with whether or not he should be doing it.
But he wasn’t really hurting Sheppard…at least, not in any permanent fashion, and it wasn’t anything that the colonel didn’t want. In fact, Sheppard begged for it, eagerly, frantically, desperately. He always thanked Rodney afterwards, an act with which the scientist had become increasingly uncomfortable. The first few times, there’d been a sense of accomplishment, a thrill of power and self-esteem. He - Doctor Rodney McKay - had more power over John Sheppard than he’d ever had over any other human being, and it was a heady and exhilarating experience. And a little scary. That anyone would trust him that much, to allow him to render them bound and helpless in front of him…it was frightening when he thought about it in the cold, sober light of day. Even more frightening was the knowledge that what really aroused Sheppard was the thought that maybe he couldn’t trust Rodney, that perhaps Rodney might be tempted or driven so far out of control as to hurt Sheppard badly. Even, maybe, kill him.
So he had come to the realization - and rationalization - that the key here was power, for both Sheppard and himself. The soldier’s long, lean body was pretty enough, but Rodney still found a woman’s soft curves more enticing. Meting out Sheppard’s ‘punishment’ didn’t really do much for him either. Inflicting pain was only satisfying as a form of revenge, and that wasn’t what he wanted…even if the red marks left by whichever homemade toy he decided to use were rather satisfying to see. But when Sheppard lay down on his bed and submitted passively to the bonds Rodney used to immobilize him, when he had Sheppard helpless and begging for Rodney to use him, abuse him, do whatever took Rodney’s fancy to him…when he learned to see the exact moment that Sheppard slipped into that submissive headspace that meant that no matter what Rodney did, no matter how much he hurt him, Sheppard would submit completely to him even without the restraints…those were the times when Rodney got excited and hard.
He liked the sensation of having Sheppard completely in his power, and Sheppard got off on being completely without power. He’d been more relaxed and cheerful than Rodney had ever seen him, entirely lacking the undercurrent of tension that the soldier usually evinced. Even Elizabeth had commented on his pleasant, almost unnatural calm, and Sheppard’s reply had been a casual smile, chalking it up to the meditation techniques he’d learned from Teyla.
Rodney had found his own benefits to the arrangement: he was calmer as well, able to focus more, able to fall asleep faster and easier than ever before. He drank less coffee, had more energy, found a cautious optimism that had Zelenka staring uneasily at him several times.
His public relationship with Sheppard didn’t change - or at least, Rodney thought it hadn’t changed until Elizabeth caught him after a meeting and told him how pleased she was that he and the colonel had become such good friends.
For a moment, he literally couldn’t breathe, certain that they’d been found out despite their precautions. Fortunately, she interpreted his blank stare as confusion rather than panic.
“Well, I know you’ve been spending some of your off-duty time together - John said you’ve been playing chess?”
He nodded slowly.
“And there’s always been a slight sense of tension between the two of you. Nothing I could quite put my finger on, but you seem so comfortable around each other lately.”
“We - we, um, just got to know each other a little better. Found some, uh, some things we didn’t - didn’t know. About each other. Um. I have to get back to the lab - “
“No, really, Rodney, I think it’s wonderful how well you get along. You two set a good example for the rest of Atlantis.”
He’d tried to muffle a slightly hysterical laugh as he fled to the relative safety of his lab. If she only knew what they were really up to! This - this thing he had with Sheppard was not the kind of example Elizabeth wanted anyone to set.
But she was right: they were more comfortable with each other in public now. They worked together better than ever. He’d never realized before how much he’d picked up on Sheppard’s hidden strain, how tightly the man controlled himself, how often the knife showed itself in little things that Rodney noticed only subconsciously. There had been a tension between them, composed of equal parts sex and violence, both attracting and repelling Rodney as if they were magnets, their charges switching constantly and unpredictably.
Despite the obvious advantages of his new sex life, he still wondered if it wasn’t going to explode in some spectacular fashion before long. If anyone did find out - God, that didn’t even bear thinking about. Or if Sheppard decided he didn’t like it after all, or decided take some form of revenge on Rodney…there was, quite simply, no way to protect himself from a potentially homicidal Sheppard. His mind skipped merrily down a list of disastrous possibilities. What if he went too far and really hurt Sheppard? The man asked for more and more, and already needed more ‘punishment’ to be satiated than the first time. He’d cautiously brought up the idea of being fully penetrated by Rodney, saying he thought it might be the kind of humiliation and possession that he so desperately craved, now that he’d found that he liked being on the other side of the power equation so much.
But what seemed to excite Sheppard the most was when Rodney ignored all his suggestions, pleas, and demands and did whatever he pleased. The more Rodney made it seem that this was all for his own pleasure, with no thought or care for Sheppard’s pleasure or health, the better the soldier liked it.
Just last night, they had tried something new, Rodney’s attempt at limiting the infliction of simple pain and focusing on the humiliation and loss of control aspects: instead of tying Sheppard, face up, to the bed, he’d had him kneel in the middle and had tied his hands behind his back, then bound his forearms together, forcing Sheppard to thrust his chest out. More rope went around his thighs, knees, and ankles, a gag in his mouth, a blindfold over his eyes. Sheppard was writhing and panting before Rodney even got as far as the shoelace cock ring. He’d tied the shoelace a little differently, too, winding it around the heavy sacs to separate them, then spiraling the extra-long lace up the length of the shaft, ending with snug circle just under the head and tying it off with a slipknot for easy release. When he passed a length of rope around Sheppard’s waist and tied the end of the shoelace to it so that the engorged member was secured snugly against the soldier’s belly, Sheppard was panting and moaning. He keeled over on his side and tried to straighten his body, but Rodney swiftly ran another line from his bound hands to his ankles and levered him back up onto his knees.
The colonel could hardly move at all at this point, twitching and straining uselessly at the taut bonds. Rodney himself was painfully hard and throbbing so much with every movement that, in desperation, he tied another shoelace around himself. He had to bring Sheppard to completion before he could deal with his own arousal, or he would lack the energy or presence of mind to finish him off. Rodney’s orgasms were so strong and intense these days that he came close to passing out from them. Sheppard usually did pass out, or at least was so enervated that he fell asleep right away, whether Rodney had untied him or not, and he couldn’t be left in the increasingly extreme bonds for very long without risking serious damage.
On a sudden whim, he’d whispered in Sheppard’s ear a lurid description of the sensations he felt with the shoelace tied around his own cock, how it rubbed against the super-sensitive skin so wonderfully and unbearably, how the taut flesh grew to even greater dimensions under the stimulation, hard and nearly purple and standing stiffly erect.
Sheppard moaned urgently, mumbling through the gag, and Rodney removed it long enough for the soldier to gasp, “Show me, Rodney, please, please, show it to me.”
The request sent a shudder down Rodney’s spine and almost tipped him over the edge. He replaced the gag with trembling fingers, closing off Sheppard’s pleas, and took a few deep breaths. He made sure his aching erection was directly in the colonel’s line of sight, so it would be the very first thing he would focus on, and pulled the blindfold up over Sheppard’s forehead.
The colonel blinked his eyes furiously as they adjusted to the sudden light, then stared eagerly.
Rodney forcibly calmed himself and began to whisper again: “Do you like that? Would you like to touch it, suck it, feel it pushing deep inside you? I could take you right now, you know, and there’s nothing you could do about it. I could just thrust right into you, into that tight little hole, without any preparation. I might tear your soft, thin skin, make you bleed, make you cry, make you come. But you only get to come when I let you…when I want you to come. If I want you to come. Maybe I’ll just take my pleasure and not let you have any at all. I could leave you this way all night - completely helpless, just a body for me to use however I like.”
Sheppard began to thrash and whimper as much as was possible within the confines of the ropes and gag. Even the snug imprisonment of his cock couldn’t hold back his ejaculations, which had him frantically trying to thrust his hips against nothing as thick liquid dribbled in small, continuous spurts from the end. Rodney tugged on the slipknot, letting the throbbing organ loose, and the oozing drops burst out in gushing jets. Sheppard was almost screaming behind the gag, tipping over onto his side again and arching his back even farther, then trying vainly to curl forward around himself. His eyes, open so wide Rodney could see the whites all around the iris, were fixed on Rodney’s penis, now striped, like Rodney’s belly, with the long gouts of his come.
He had to clench his fists to keep from ripping the cord off himself and allowing his own orgasm to erupt from his aching cock. If he hadn’t been so close to coming, Rodney would have been tempted almost past what he could bear to take Sheppard exactly as he’d threatened. But as Sheppard slowly began to come down from the shattering heights of his ecstasy, Rodney pulled at the quick-release knots he’d tied, unwinding the ropes from the limp and unresisting form. The soldier continued to stare at the rigid, blood-engorged head that bobbed stiffly in front of him, pulling in huge gulps of air.
Rodney stared in fascination, his need forgotten for a moment, at the red marks on Sheppard’s pale skin, at the pattern of the rope etched temporarily into the yielding flesh. He ran a finger along one of them, feeling the hot lines of carved into the skin.
“Rodney,” Sheppard croaked, “let me. Let me.” He reached out with trembling hands to tenderly untie the lace around Rodney’s cock, gentling the spasms with cool fingers as it throbbed and grew even larger. He squirmed to the edge of the bed and took it into his mouth, his tongue rubbing against the end then down it’s length as he sucked it in. After only a few, nearly unbearable pulls Rodney couldn’t hold back any longer. He had just enough presence of mind to grab Sheppard’s thick hair and thrust himself brutally into the wet warmth, as far down Sheppard’s throat as he could ram himself, before a boiling torrent of come erupted into the willing mouth.
His vision dimmed as his release pulsed through his body, leaving him gasping and shaking. When it began to fade, he belatedly uncurled aching fingers from Sheppard’s hair, allowing the wide-eyed soldier to pull back and swallow to clear his airway. He stumbled back to collapse in a chair, locking eyes with Sheppard, seeing wonderment and satiation in his gaze.
The soldier slid off the bed and crawled to Rodney, stopping in front of him with his head to the floor and his pale ass in the air, and placed a feather-light kiss on each of Rodney’s feet.
“Yours,” he murmured, almost too quiet to hear.
“Mine,” Rodney agreed, and something inside him slipped into place, irrevocably and permanently.
It would never be possible to go back to a point when he didn’t know about the twist in Sheppard’s psyche, or the corresponding one he’d begun to explore in his own. He couldn’t halt their progress into this new relationship, and didn’t want to. Sheppard needed it - needed Rodney, like he’d never needed anyone before - to function without the knife edge showing and slicing through his carefully constructed public persona. Until tonight Rodney had felt like he was drowning in John’s desire to be used, but now he was swimmingly strongly into the current of pleasure and pain, of need and satisfaction. There was no way back to the world of light and air; he could only move forward into the darker waters he’d learned to breathe with Sheppard.
Read Part 3 of the Shiver trilogy here.
Author: ellex42
Rating: NC-17 or Adult
Series: Part 2 of the Shiver trilogy. Read Part 1, Predator, which is in turn a sequel to magus_minor’s Shark trilogy.
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Disclaimer: Stargate:Atlantis does not belong to me and I make no material profit from this story.
Warnings: Fairly light BDSM, completely consensual.
Summary: The collective noun for a group of sharks is a shiver.
A/N: Several people asked for a continuation of Predator or the story from Rodney’s POV. It took me several days to even begin to think about contemplating it. I didn’t think I could do either one, but I’ve managed both and even given them a sort of happy ending. I hope you’re happy - I think it broke me. *g*
Amnesty Challenge: I think I’ve managed no less than three challenges here: Shark, Slave, and Swimming.
O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O
If a shark were to stop swimming, the necessary water circulation for respiration would become too low and the animal could suffocate.
--From this entry on Wikipedia.
O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O
Rodney McKay was not used to soul searching or experiencing crises of conscience. It didn’t take him long to decide he didn’t much like either one.
He couldn’t deny, however much he might like to do so, the effect of society on his morals. Society - at least, that of the Western world in general and his Canadian upbringing in particular - dictated that the things he’d been doing to - no, if he was going to be honest with himself, the things he’d been doing with - Colonel Sheppard were wrong. Deviant, perverted, depraved, whatever. He’d always considered himself to be more or less straight and vanilla, if quite tolerant of other people’s various sexual preferences, as long as they didn’t impact on him. He’d never even considered bringing bondage, or sado-masochism, or any kind of dominant/submissive play into his admittedly less than active sex life.
No, he wasn’t being honest again. It wasn’t sado-masochism, it was sadism. The only masochistic part was the amount of time he spent thinking about it and wrestling with whether or not he should be doing it.
But he wasn’t really hurting Sheppard…at least, not in any permanent fashion, and it wasn’t anything that the colonel didn’t want. In fact, Sheppard begged for it, eagerly, frantically, desperately. He always thanked Rodney afterwards, an act with which the scientist had become increasingly uncomfortable. The first few times, there’d been a sense of accomplishment, a thrill of power and self-esteem. He - Doctor Rodney McKay - had more power over John Sheppard than he’d ever had over any other human being, and it was a heady and exhilarating experience. And a little scary. That anyone would trust him that much, to allow him to render them bound and helpless in front of him…it was frightening when he thought about it in the cold, sober light of day. Even more frightening was the knowledge that what really aroused Sheppard was the thought that maybe he couldn’t trust Rodney, that perhaps Rodney might be tempted or driven so far out of control as to hurt Sheppard badly. Even, maybe, kill him.
So he had come to the realization - and rationalization - that the key here was power, for both Sheppard and himself. The soldier’s long, lean body was pretty enough, but Rodney still found a woman’s soft curves more enticing. Meting out Sheppard’s ‘punishment’ didn’t really do much for him either. Inflicting pain was only satisfying as a form of revenge, and that wasn’t what he wanted…even if the red marks left by whichever homemade toy he decided to use were rather satisfying to see. But when Sheppard lay down on his bed and submitted passively to the bonds Rodney used to immobilize him, when he had Sheppard helpless and begging for Rodney to use him, abuse him, do whatever took Rodney’s fancy to him…when he learned to see the exact moment that Sheppard slipped into that submissive headspace that meant that no matter what Rodney did, no matter how much he hurt him, Sheppard would submit completely to him even without the restraints…those were the times when Rodney got excited and hard.
He liked the sensation of having Sheppard completely in his power, and Sheppard got off on being completely without power. He’d been more relaxed and cheerful than Rodney had ever seen him, entirely lacking the undercurrent of tension that the soldier usually evinced. Even Elizabeth had commented on his pleasant, almost unnatural calm, and Sheppard’s reply had been a casual smile, chalking it up to the meditation techniques he’d learned from Teyla.
Rodney had found his own benefits to the arrangement: he was calmer as well, able to focus more, able to fall asleep faster and easier than ever before. He drank less coffee, had more energy, found a cautious optimism that had Zelenka staring uneasily at him several times.
His public relationship with Sheppard didn’t change - or at least, Rodney thought it hadn’t changed until Elizabeth caught him after a meeting and told him how pleased she was that he and the colonel had become such good friends.
For a moment, he literally couldn’t breathe, certain that they’d been found out despite their precautions. Fortunately, she interpreted his blank stare as confusion rather than panic.
“Well, I know you’ve been spending some of your off-duty time together - John said you’ve been playing chess?”
He nodded slowly.
“And there’s always been a slight sense of tension between the two of you. Nothing I could quite put my finger on, but you seem so comfortable around each other lately.”
“We - we, um, just got to know each other a little better. Found some, uh, some things we didn’t - didn’t know. About each other. Um. I have to get back to the lab - “
“No, really, Rodney, I think it’s wonderful how well you get along. You two set a good example for the rest of Atlantis.”
He’d tried to muffle a slightly hysterical laugh as he fled to the relative safety of his lab. If she only knew what they were really up to! This - this thing he had with Sheppard was not the kind of example Elizabeth wanted anyone to set.
But she was right: they were more comfortable with each other in public now. They worked together better than ever. He’d never realized before how much he’d picked up on Sheppard’s hidden strain, how tightly the man controlled himself, how often the knife showed itself in little things that Rodney noticed only subconsciously. There had been a tension between them, composed of equal parts sex and violence, both attracting and repelling Rodney as if they were magnets, their charges switching constantly and unpredictably.
Despite the obvious advantages of his new sex life, he still wondered if it wasn’t going to explode in some spectacular fashion before long. If anyone did find out - God, that didn’t even bear thinking about. Or if Sheppard decided he didn’t like it after all, or decided take some form of revenge on Rodney…there was, quite simply, no way to protect himself from a potentially homicidal Sheppard. His mind skipped merrily down a list of disastrous possibilities. What if he went too far and really hurt Sheppard? The man asked for more and more, and already needed more ‘punishment’ to be satiated than the first time. He’d cautiously brought up the idea of being fully penetrated by Rodney, saying he thought it might be the kind of humiliation and possession that he so desperately craved, now that he’d found that he liked being on the other side of the power equation so much.
But what seemed to excite Sheppard the most was when Rodney ignored all his suggestions, pleas, and demands and did whatever he pleased. The more Rodney made it seem that this was all for his own pleasure, with no thought or care for Sheppard’s pleasure or health, the better the soldier liked it.
Just last night, they had tried something new, Rodney’s attempt at limiting the infliction of simple pain and focusing on the humiliation and loss of control aspects: instead of tying Sheppard, face up, to the bed, he’d had him kneel in the middle and had tied his hands behind his back, then bound his forearms together, forcing Sheppard to thrust his chest out. More rope went around his thighs, knees, and ankles, a gag in his mouth, a blindfold over his eyes. Sheppard was writhing and panting before Rodney even got as far as the shoelace cock ring. He’d tied the shoelace a little differently, too, winding it around the heavy sacs to separate them, then spiraling the extra-long lace up the length of the shaft, ending with snug circle just under the head and tying it off with a slipknot for easy release. When he passed a length of rope around Sheppard’s waist and tied the end of the shoelace to it so that the engorged member was secured snugly against the soldier’s belly, Sheppard was panting and moaning. He keeled over on his side and tried to straighten his body, but Rodney swiftly ran another line from his bound hands to his ankles and levered him back up onto his knees.
The colonel could hardly move at all at this point, twitching and straining uselessly at the taut bonds. Rodney himself was painfully hard and throbbing so much with every movement that, in desperation, he tied another shoelace around himself. He had to bring Sheppard to completion before he could deal with his own arousal, or he would lack the energy or presence of mind to finish him off. Rodney’s orgasms were so strong and intense these days that he came close to passing out from them. Sheppard usually did pass out, or at least was so enervated that he fell asleep right away, whether Rodney had untied him or not, and he couldn’t be left in the increasingly extreme bonds for very long without risking serious damage.
On a sudden whim, he’d whispered in Sheppard’s ear a lurid description of the sensations he felt with the shoelace tied around his own cock, how it rubbed against the super-sensitive skin so wonderfully and unbearably, how the taut flesh grew to even greater dimensions under the stimulation, hard and nearly purple and standing stiffly erect.
Sheppard moaned urgently, mumbling through the gag, and Rodney removed it long enough for the soldier to gasp, “Show me, Rodney, please, please, show it to me.”
The request sent a shudder down Rodney’s spine and almost tipped him over the edge. He replaced the gag with trembling fingers, closing off Sheppard’s pleas, and took a few deep breaths. He made sure his aching erection was directly in the colonel’s line of sight, so it would be the very first thing he would focus on, and pulled the blindfold up over Sheppard’s forehead.
The colonel blinked his eyes furiously as they adjusted to the sudden light, then stared eagerly.
Rodney forcibly calmed himself and began to whisper again: “Do you like that? Would you like to touch it, suck it, feel it pushing deep inside you? I could take you right now, you know, and there’s nothing you could do about it. I could just thrust right into you, into that tight little hole, without any preparation. I might tear your soft, thin skin, make you bleed, make you cry, make you come. But you only get to come when I let you…when I want you to come. If I want you to come. Maybe I’ll just take my pleasure and not let you have any at all. I could leave you this way all night - completely helpless, just a body for me to use however I like.”
Sheppard began to thrash and whimper as much as was possible within the confines of the ropes and gag. Even the snug imprisonment of his cock couldn’t hold back his ejaculations, which had him frantically trying to thrust his hips against nothing as thick liquid dribbled in small, continuous spurts from the end. Rodney tugged on the slipknot, letting the throbbing organ loose, and the oozing drops burst out in gushing jets. Sheppard was almost screaming behind the gag, tipping over onto his side again and arching his back even farther, then trying vainly to curl forward around himself. His eyes, open so wide Rodney could see the whites all around the iris, were fixed on Rodney’s penis, now striped, like Rodney’s belly, with the long gouts of his come.
He had to clench his fists to keep from ripping the cord off himself and allowing his own orgasm to erupt from his aching cock. If he hadn’t been so close to coming, Rodney would have been tempted almost past what he could bear to take Sheppard exactly as he’d threatened. But as Sheppard slowly began to come down from the shattering heights of his ecstasy, Rodney pulled at the quick-release knots he’d tied, unwinding the ropes from the limp and unresisting form. The soldier continued to stare at the rigid, blood-engorged head that bobbed stiffly in front of him, pulling in huge gulps of air.
Rodney stared in fascination, his need forgotten for a moment, at the red marks on Sheppard’s pale skin, at the pattern of the rope etched temporarily into the yielding flesh. He ran a finger along one of them, feeling the hot lines of carved into the skin.
“Rodney,” Sheppard croaked, “let me. Let me.” He reached out with trembling hands to tenderly untie the lace around Rodney’s cock, gentling the spasms with cool fingers as it throbbed and grew even larger. He squirmed to the edge of the bed and took it into his mouth, his tongue rubbing against the end then down it’s length as he sucked it in. After only a few, nearly unbearable pulls Rodney couldn’t hold back any longer. He had just enough presence of mind to grab Sheppard’s thick hair and thrust himself brutally into the wet warmth, as far down Sheppard’s throat as he could ram himself, before a boiling torrent of come erupted into the willing mouth.
His vision dimmed as his release pulsed through his body, leaving him gasping and shaking. When it began to fade, he belatedly uncurled aching fingers from Sheppard’s hair, allowing the wide-eyed soldier to pull back and swallow to clear his airway. He stumbled back to collapse in a chair, locking eyes with Sheppard, seeing wonderment and satiation in his gaze.
The soldier slid off the bed and crawled to Rodney, stopping in front of him with his head to the floor and his pale ass in the air, and placed a feather-light kiss on each of Rodney’s feet.
“Yours,” he murmured, almost too quiet to hear.
“Mine,” Rodney agreed, and something inside him slipped into place, irrevocably and permanently.
It would never be possible to go back to a point when he didn’t know about the twist in Sheppard’s psyche, or the corresponding one he’d begun to explore in his own. He couldn’t halt their progress into this new relationship, and didn’t want to. Sheppard needed it - needed Rodney, like he’d never needed anyone before - to function without the knife edge showing and slicing through his carefully constructed public persona. Until tonight Rodney had felt like he was drowning in John’s desire to be used, but now he was swimmingly strongly into the current of pleasure and pain, of need and satisfaction. There was no way back to the world of light and air; he could only move forward into the darker waters he’d learned to breathe with Sheppard.
Read Part 3 of the Shiver trilogy here.