Page 66 of Starve
“I need to get you warmed up.”
I feel so numb as he tugs off my shirt, my bra, and my leggings, until I’m left only in my underwear on the counter and staring up at his gorgeous, dark-eyed face. Cairo smiles sweetly at me and turns away just to twist the knobs in the shower before coming back to lean against me.
“You’re okay, little bird,” he promises. “Everything is okay.”
“But—”
“No, whatever it is”—he turns to nose my cheek affectionately —“it’s okay. It can wait until after I warm you up. Moro’s right there,” he adds, drawing my attention to my bed outside the door, where she’s sprawled out across the mattress like she owns it. As I watch, Cairo strips off his wet shirt and jeans, leaving him naked and barefoot.
He looks so human.
The thought makes something curl inside me, and when he reaches for me I draw back a little, though I’m ashamed at the motion. Cairo’s lips only twitch in a soft smile, and he leans over me with his hands on the counter.
“I see I was wrong. We should talk now,” he observes, his dark eyes on mine. “What happened, little bird?”
“In chronological order, or order of severity?” I can’t help the sarcastic, witty response, and it earns a softer smile from him. A more genuine one.
“Either.”
“Chronological, then. No—” I close my eyes, hands gripping the counter next to both of his. “Just…I need to ask you something.”
He waits. Patiently, though I can almost feel a kind of tremor in him, like he’s expecting the worst and trying to brace himself for it.
“Are you trying to turn me into what you are?”
The question falls between us, and when he looks away, I wish I could take it back. More than anything, I want to grab the words out of the air and swallow them back down. I’d rather live with the uncertainty, I decide at that moment, than hear the answer when I’m not sure I’m going to like it.
But it’s too late for that now.
Cairo’s eyes flick toward Moro, and he tilts his head as if putting together the events of the day in his head, without my help. “I knew you’d ask, eventually. Whether because you came up with it on your own, or…” He touches my face again, lightly, with just the tips of his fingers. This time, I don’t flinch.
He’s stillCairo, after all.
“That’s a complicated answer. Because if I say no, then that would mean I don’t want to keep you forever. But I’m not likehim.”It’s clear who he means. “I won’t trick you, or force you. I won’t kidnap you and make you dependent on me. Or take you away from your life to make it seem like the one I can give you is the only option you have. So…no, Fern. I’m not looking for ways to trick you or make you love me enough to give up anything and everything else. But if something happened, and you did become like me, you becamecursedlike I am, well…” His smile turns a little mischievous, and his dark eyes flicker with inner brilliance.
“I’d be lying if I said the thought made me unhappy.”
His honesty is enough. My shoulders drop, and without warning, I lean into him, throwing my arms around his shoulders and burying my face in his shoulder. I inhale his scent, every bit of his skin smelling likeCairoand not some indescribably horrible monster.
Because he’s stillCairo,even if he iscursed.
“We can go chronologically now,” I breathe. “But shower first. Please.” The coldness is creeping into my nerve endings, and even his radiator-like heat isn’t enough to chase away the chill. Without a word, Cairo picks me up, opens the shower door, and once I’m completely nude, he sets me down so I’m leaning against the wall under the spray. When I try to move, however, he gives a soft noise of disapproval, gripping my hands and pushing them to the wall on either side of my hips.
“Stay,” Cairo breathes. “Let me take care of you, little bird. Let me show you all the ways I want you to be mine.”
“You have,” I remind him in a soft whisper as he crowds close to me, running his fingers through my hair so the hot water sinks to my scalp, chasing away the cold. “In the woods, in the cabin?—”
“There are so many ways I want to have you,” he interrupts. “Just because I’m a monster, doesn’t mean they’re all like that. Some of them…” He cups my face in his hands, pressing his face to mine. “Some of them are gentle, and sweet. Because you are a thing to be cherished and kept warm.”
My arms come up to twine around his neck, and he lets me. I sigh as Cairo kisses me, and I find I really don’t mind his fangs as long as I’m careful with my tongue. As sweet as he is, this kiss, like every other, is devouring. He tastes every inch of space between my lips, swiping his tongue over mine and purring in delight.
Kissing him turns out to be a very effective way to warm up, I decide after a few minutes of this, when it becomes obvious my grip on him is the only thing holding me up. My legs certainly aren’t doing it. I sigh into his mouth, and the sound after that is a little more needy. Cairo’s purr grows in response, and his hands span my hips, nails pricking at my skin.
“I’ve got you, little bird,” he tells me. His hands shift, roaming upward, until he’s sweetly, teasingly touching me just as greedily as he kisses me. “Just let me take care of you.” Onehand disappears, and I watch as he drizzles shampoo onto his palm.
“I just washed my hair yesterday,” I point out, but I’m not really complaining. Cairo fixes me with a plaintive look, and doesn’t deign to respond before he’s gently scrubbing my hair, his claws tingling against my scalp.
My skin prickles, and I close my eyes, letting him urge me against his chest while he rinses out the shampoo and then takes his time to work conditioner through my long, blonde hair thoroughly as though it’s his job. The purr in his chest is reassuring and sweet, and it’s so easy to drift, though this time it’s less from panic and more because this is just so…nice.
