Page 20 of The Fae Menagerie
I leaned over him so he could hear me over his staccato breaths. "If you want to touch yourself while I do this, I don't mind."
He swiveled his head and almost knocked me from his back with a raised shoulder and wing. "Why would you say that?"
"I know this feels good to you. I don't want it to be weird."
"It's weird," he said. "Like a masseuse saying you can give yourself a happy ending."
"When you put it that way, yeah, it's weird."
He laughed. "Thank you for offering, but I'll wait until I'm alone, same as before."
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
"For what?" Doyle rolled beneath me, and the sheet dropped low on his hips, forming a grotesque tent over his cock. "It's all right to be you, Parker. The world won't end if you don't want me."
I stared down at his cock. "I wish I did."
"I wouldn't object." He chuffed a laugh. "Does this bother you?"
I shook my head. I'd seen plenty of hard cocks and wet panties. "I'm jealous, more than anything."
Parker sat up and rested his spread wings against the padded headboard. He tugged my arm until I sat beside him. "You're the first guy I've ever really gotten to know," he said. "Sure, my partners and I talked about positions and what feels good, but I never learned about their families, or what books they liked, and we definitely never talked about their exes."
"Too afraid to learn how they might talk about you?"
"I don't think I meant anything to them, either."
"Until Prince Drummond," I reminded him. The prince hadn't invaded my dreams for the fun of it. He'd wanted to know who I was and why I was in bed with Doyle. The truth had made him laugh. I suppose we were ridiculous to the other fae outside the enclosure, too.
"Prince Drummond has reconciled with his betrothed," Doyle said. "If anything, their relationship will be stronger after our dalliance."
I doubted that, but then, I'd never reconciled with any of my exes.
My hand was still coated with salve for his wings. "Want me to continue?"
"If you don't mind." He stretched out on his stomach.
I crawled back into position between his legs. "If I minded, I wouldn't have asked." I loved the tickle of his delicate feelers against my fingertips. It lulled me into a trance-like state.
When I finished, I crawled off him and made my way to the door. "I'll give you a moment."
Doyle made a strangled sound into his pillow that might have been "thank you," or "damn you," I couldn't tell which.
In the kitchen, yet another box sat on the table. I didn't approach it, worried the poison could kill me with just a touch. I'd handled both scones Doyle had placed on my plate thismorning. I had felt a little nauseated, especially after Doyle puked in the sink. I'd always had a weak stomach, so I couldn't rule out sympathetic nausea.
I continued to the library to read my book as far away from the door to the bedroom as I could get. My favorite part about reading the array of romance novels was finding passages to read aloud to Doyle for his reaction. I found a paragraph I wanted to share with him and used the dust jacket flap as a placeholder while I kept reading.
A few minutes later, Doyle joined me. "Is it weird that I … you know …"
"Finished what I started?" I sighed. I'd heard it all before. "Put the dragon back to sleep? Released the old swimmers? Cleaned out?—"
"What? No!" Doyle glanced around the library as though he expected someone to jump out of a bookcase. He ran to the side table and knocked on wood. "Wood sprites are horny little fucks! Stop giving them ideas."
He sank into the chair opposite mine, tucked his knees up under his burlap robe, and wrapped his arms around them. Then, he rested his head on his knee and turned his beautiful green eyes on me.
"You didn't start anything, and I didn't finish. It didn't seem right."
"I didn't turn you on?"
