Page 48 of The Fae Menagerie
PARKER
I was physicallyand mentally exhausted, but the longer I let this thing grow between us, the harder it would be for me to act on it. I meant what I said. I wanted to experiment. I didn't want to ponder the underlying feelings that made me want Doyle so bad.
I'd seen Doyle naked plenty. I'd never wanted to touch him beyond his wings before. Sure, I'd inadvertently brushed up against him during the night, or when walking past him on the way to the shower in the morning. Doyle hadn't made it weird, so after the first couple of times, it felt normal.
I pulled back the covers and invited him to sit beside me. His movements were slow and wary. I couldn't tell if he was the hunter or the prey. I didn't know what that made me.
Instead of sitting, he lay on his side. With his wings folded, he looked smaller and more vulnerable. I doubted many had seen the anthousai prince like this, completely out of his element.
I touched him, but it wasn't the same as those nighttime accidents. I deliberately reached for his shoulder and ran my index finger across his skin. He was cooler to the touch than a human, but I didn't mind. Part of what made humans unbearable was how hot they always were with their drippy sweat and saliva.
Doyle's throat clicked when he swallowed. When I met his gaze, he looked as scared as I was.
"Is this all right?"
"I don't know." He glanced down at my hand. "Is it?"
"Your skin is so soft." It was. Every inch of Doyle was covered with downy fuzz like the soft feelers along the edges of his wings. I hadn't noticed before. The individual hairs were too short and fine for me to see. I leaned closer to rub my cheek on his shoulder.
Doyle lifted his arm, motioning with his chin for me to scoot closer to him. "I won't move, I swear. This is all you."
"Thank you." I didn't know why it was so important for me to explore without him pawing at me, but it was.
I slid my feet over first, finding his shins so I didn't kick him. I planted my hands against his firm chest and glanced up to make sure this was still all right. The soft twist of Doyle's lips felt like time wasting. Why wasn't I kissing him already? That was what I wanted, not this slow exploration of every inch of exposed skin. I wanted his mouth on mine.
"May I kiss you?"
"I thought we'd already established that." Doyle's eyes crinkled at the corners and a cute dimple popped in his cheek when he smiled. I hadn't seen him smile enough in the last few months. I wanted to see more of it. I wanted to make his cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
I brushed my lips across his, and his breath hitched. I inched even closer, winding the arm that wasn't beneath me around his neck for better leverage. I didn't know if I was doing anything right, but I loved the feel of his lips against mine. I pressed harder.
Doyle opened his mouth on a sigh, and I remembered what we'd done before. Tongues were supposed to be a part of this.
If another partner tried to stick their tongue in my mouth with a kiss goodnight, I freaked out. With Doyle, it seemed natural and right. I didn't know where I found the courage, but my tongue snaked into his mouth again and bumped over his sharp teeth.
Then his tongue brushed sinuously against mine. My eyes closed of their own accord and the world narrowed to the sounds of our mouths, the delicious taste of nectar and honey, and the feel of his rough tongue as I explored every inch.
I couldn't explain the changes in my body. This time, I was the one hot and sweaty. After a few minutes, I broke the kiss, panting.
"What is wrong with me?" I reached between my legs to grasp the hard, aching part of my anatomy that had never expressed itself so forcefully before.
"There's nothing wrong with you," Doyle said.
"Why now, though?"
He laughed again. "Near death experience?"
He could have been right, but I worried it was more than that. I liked him. I wanted him. What if I was falling in love with him?
No. That couldn't be. I'd been trapped with him in this one-bedroom enclosure for over two months. Calculating the hours of each date, even the hours of a few sleepovers, I'd never spent what amounted to two months with anyone. Most of my relationships ended before two calendar months, anyway. They tired of me, or I refused another date with them.
I hid my face against his neck and tried to calm my breathing.
Doyle rested his hand against the back of my neck and rubbed circles with his thumb. It was his first action. The rest of the time, he'd been responding to my touches but making no moves of his own.
"I like that," I muttered against his neck. "I like it when you touch me."
I rolled onto my stomach and propped myself up on my elbows so I could see his expression. "If I wanted you to take control, would you?"
