Page 51 of Starve
“But I want to.” He doesn’t reply, and the echo of my words die in the small space as I stand in front of him, waiting. I expect Cairo to push me away. I expect him to growl, and give me his usual level of roughness. It’s clear he doesn’t like being fussed over or being cared for, but here in the darkness of my shower, with hot water raining down on both of us and sluicing away the blood from his wounds and his claws, he seems to melt just a little.
I can’t help my feeling of victory when his shoulders relax ever so slightly. So I lean up on my toes and brush my lips to his, though his hand comes up between us for him to grip the base of my throat with a low growl. “Don’t push your luck,” he purrs in my ear, though there’s no anger in it. If I had to guess, he’s like a wild animal right now. One who’s wounded and afraid and fighting his urges to push everyone away so he can lick his wounds on his own.
But he doesn’t need to push me away.
Though I don’t know how to make him see that. I sigh and reach up to brush my fingers over his lower lip, feeling the flesh under the pads of my fingers. He turns with my movements, nipping lightly at my fingers with his sharp teeth, and again I hear that purring growl I’m starting to think isn’t a sound of displeasure at all.
“Does it hurt?”
“All the time.” But when Cairo meets my eyes, it hits me that he’s not talking about his wounds.
“I meant?—”
“I know what you meant, Fern. Yes.” He rolls his shoulders with a grimace. “They don’t exactly feel good. They’ll heal in a few days, though. By morning they’ll be more annoying than anything.” But he leans back against the wall under the spray, eyes going half-lidded as a sigh leaves his barely parted lips.
I take that as the most permission I’m going to get. With a wet rag I wipe gently along his body, not getting too close to the ragged claw marks across his chest while wiping away the dried blood that water from the shower can’t penetrate. He twitches under me every few seconds as I get closer to the wounds with the soft rag. But I’m careful not to hurt him, and after a few minutes I’m satisfied with my work. Next I move to the gouge on his neck, shivering at the muscle and bone I swear I can see.
“This is so bad,” I breathe, not really wanting to be heard over the sound of the rushing water. “Cairo…” He reaches out to grip my elbow, stroking his thumb along my skin.
“I’ve had worse,” he sighs. “This would be bad for you, but for me…” He rolls his shoulder with a pained grimace.“I’ve had worse. The rules are different when you’re cursed, little bird. This is one of the few perks.” His lips twitch in a rueful grin. “If you can call them that, anyway.”
I snort, but don’t answer. After all, I would definitely call healing this fast, and being able to just walk away with wounds like this, absolute perks. But without knowing why he’s ‘cursed’ or what he did, I don’t really want to comment. When I’m done, the wound on his shoulder and throat looks a little better, at least in my opinion. I swear I can’t see quite as much bone, though it still makes me queasy to look at if I focus on it too much.
The rest of his body is mostly unmarred, save for a few scratches, but when I start to pull away, Cairo suddenly grasps my arm with a soft sound in his throat. “Wait,” he murmurs, eyes shining with reflected light so eerily like a cat’s.
“Yeah?” I breathe, heart in my chest.
“You missed one.” His eyes flick downward, then back up. I’m confused for a moment, until he shifts pointedly, drawing my gaze down to the smallest possible graze on the front of his thigh. My mouth twitches in the hint of a grin, but I hold a straight face, gazing up at him with wide eyes.
“You’re right,” I agree softly. “I can’t believe I missed that.” The same half-hidden smile flickers on his lips as well, and I can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. Even on me, the scratch on his thigh would be minor at best. Like a scrape from a branch or something rough on bare legs.
When I drop to my knees, he draws in a surprised breath, like he hadn’t expected that from me; it makes me smile slightly. Ikeep my eyes on his as he widens his stance a little so my knees fit between his ankles perfectly, the shower water raining onto my hair and cascading down my shoulders.
“Tell me how to make you feel better,” I murmur, my voice quiet in the small, dark space.
“I’d rather show you.” The rough purr is back in his voice, as one hand comes up to thread through my soaked hair and his nails scrape against my scalp. “You’re too tempting down there, little bird.” But he doesn’t pull me to my feet. He guides my face closer to where his other hand is wrapped around the base of his cock that’s swelling under the attention.
My eyes dip to it, and I gaze at the impressive length that’s just as striking as the rest of him. I can’t help but wonder if this part of him changed, too, whenever he became what he is. Or if he was always just verygiftedas a human.
With the flat of my tongue I lap over his tip, hearing his soft intake of breath as I do it again. I tease him with little kitten licks and teasing flicks of my tongue, my eyes on him to watch every small reaction and micro-expression. He’s so hard to read that I have to watch closely, but I’m getting better.
I know when he’s getting frustrated, so it isn’t a surprise at all when his fingers tighten in my hair and he hisses with impatience. “Little bird…” he warns in a voice that echoes off the tiles, becoming different halfway through and mimicking someone else’s, though I don’t know whose. His throat works as he trails off, tensing, and I wonder if he has any idea he’s doing it at all.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, turning my face to nuzzle at the side of his length before kissing his tip with a smirk on my lips. “Am I not doing it right, Cairo?”
That brings a growl from him, and his eyes snap open so he can look at me, though all I see is the glimmering green reflective surface, instead of his pupils or irises around them. “You’regetting too bold, for a human,” Cairo warns, making my stomach flutter at the tone. “You’ll regret it if I lose control and show you what you do to me.”
“So you’re saying I should take pity on you?” Without waiting for an answer, I lick over his tip again, sending another full body shudder through him.
“I’msaying…Either you get your mouth on my cock, or I’ll fuck your face to show you the consequences of being such a fucking tease.” He doesn’t look at me, with his eyes shut again and head against the wall. So he can’t see my challenging, teasing grin. Nor how I go back to little laps and licks, my tongue stroking, but not doing more than teasing his tip between my lips.
He tolerates it for about thirty more seconds. Long enough for my arrogance to grow, and for me to decide that he’s bluffing about dishing out consequences whatsoever. At least, until suddenly he apparently snaps. I feel his body tense against me, and Cairo’s fingers tighten in my hair. “I warned you,” he growls softly, and then he’s dragging the tip of his cock over my lips, no longer letting me set the pace.
“Did you?” I ask, knowing it’ll just spur him onward. But I can’t help wanting to see what he’ll do. To know exactly what will happen if I push my flesh-eating monster when he’s in my shower with my mouth so close to his cock.
Another growl is my answer, and he lets go of my hair to grip my jaw in his hand. Without a word, he presses at the hinges of my jaw, forcing my lips open unless I want it to hurt like a bitch. I do give him a bit of token resistance, which only makes him tilt his head in a way that causes my stomach to flutter. He doesn’t press harder, he justlooksat me.
But it’s enough. I open my mouth, allowing his cock to slide over my lips. While I watch his face, he feeds me his length,an inch at a time, until he’s heavy on my tongue and I have to breathe through my nose as I sit on my knees in front of him.
