Page 68 of Nyx
“Oh my gods, now I get to count your jokes!” A gleeful laugh of his own slips free, loud and unrestrained. His arms band around me and he twirls so hard my feet fly off the ground, and I’m dizzy as he kisses me silly. We leave the books behind as he gives me the blanket to carry.
“Will you teach me to read?” I ask, then duck my head as my voice drops to an indistinct murmur. “I don’t know how.”
“Of course you don’t know how. I’m so impressed with how quickly you’ve picked up our language, but you’re still learning. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He makes it sound so simple, and I find myself nodding along in agreement instead of being embarrassed.
“You will teach me, then?”
We approach my door with our armfuls of colorful things, and he bumps me with his shoulder. “I’ve already told you, precious. Whatever you want.” I nod, too overwhelmed to speak, as I often become, but he doesn’t mind.
He’s never minded my silence.
We step inside, and I stare at the room. It’s so different from this morning, it feels like we’re in a new place. Filled with more things, but not crowded or overwhelming. Comfortable and inviting, with green light from the vines on the windows filtering across the floor. It’s like I’ve leapt through time, shedding the empty shell I once was and arriving in this moment, where I’m so full of emotion I might explode with it.
As if sensing the change in my mood, Reyes takes the blanket, his fingers brushing my skin. I glance at where he touched me, then up into his cautious eyes. “Let’s get your bedroom set up, okay?” I nod again, and when he hands me a corner of the sheets, it gives my mind somewhere to focus. We make the bed and cover it with the blanket, then Reyes reappears with the rug in his hand.
“Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”
“Side?” Confused, I look at him as he rubs the woven material between his fingers, and his pained smile tells me I’ve done something else to make him sad.
“Most people have a preference for the side of the bed they sleep on, especially when they’re sharing with someone. We’ll put the rug on whichever side you choose.”
The window is to the left of the bed, with a gap between the mattress and the wall just wide enough to walk in. The right faces the door and the dresser. I tilt my head to the left side. “That’s what I thought,” he says, stopping to kiss my temple before he spreads the rug in the small opening.
Once he’s done, he stands with his hands on his hips, biting his lip between his teeth. His voice is quiet, so calm it feels flat, as he asks, “Would you be more comfortable with me sleeping in one of the chairs tonight? I don’t mind.”
Immediately, I shake my head, desperate for his arms to ground me. Change is hard, regardless of whether it’s good or bad, and today was an upheaval of everything familiar. “Stay with me.”
His only show of nerves is the flex of his fingers against his hipbone, but I notice it. I cherish it, because it shows he is just as scared as I am. “You can shower first,” he says, “and I’ll clean up when you’re done.”
“Okay,” I whisper, anxiety getting the best of me as I rinse myself under the chilly spray of the shower. My heart thuds so heavily, my hands shake with its beat as I dry myself with one of the new towels Reyes brought over. His comforting scent wraps around me as I pull on one of his shirts. It calms my jittery hands enough for me to find the courage to return to the bedroom.
He turns when he hears me, then sucks in a sharp breath as his gaze drops to my bare legs sticking out from underneath the shirt. That now-familiar ball of heat builds in my stomach as he peruses my body, and being the object of his desires is a powerful, heady thing. He inhales deeply as his eyes linger on the edge of the shirt, before snapping up to meet mine.
“I’ll be… right back. Don’t… gods, don’t move. No, you can move, you can get comfortable in bed, just don’t… change… I’m going to shower now.” The words pour out of him in a flustered rush as his eyes get comically wider. He nearly walks into the doorframe because he’s staring over his shoulder at me, and I bite my bottom lip as I try not to laugh at his stumbling.
The mattress is softer than what I’m used to, and the sheets are crisp as I slide between them. Everything smells clean and fresh, and my head sinks into the pillow as I listen to the plunk of water from the bathroom. Reyes finishes showering, the tips of his curls damp as he walks into the room wearing only a pair of shorts.
“Is this… okay?” he asks, and I let my gaze drift over his exposed chest.
“This is perfect,” I say, and he nods a few times before he climbs into bed. The mattress dips under his weight as the sun takes its last breath of the day, and together, we’re left in the darkness.
Nyx
Myfingerssqueezearoundthe blanket and worn cotton sheets, trying to steady my breathing as he slides between them to join me.
Despite the chilly shower, Reyes’s body is as hot as mine. The bed smells like him, and his presence swallows everything else in the room. He scoots closer, and his attention is a physical thing, scoring over my skin. That demanding heaviness in my stomach swells, and moves lower until I’m on fire with it. My breathing comes faster as I try to level myself.
“Is this okay?” His voice is deeper than normal, cautious but just as uncontrolled as I feel.
“Yes,” I whisper as he settles behind me. The coarse hair on his legs creates the most decadent friction on my calves and thighs. The shirt blocks it from scratching against my back, but I want to feel it. I want to feel all of him. He inches closer, and his beard tickles the nape of my neck as he presses a soft kiss there.
“Are you tired?” The tension in my belly becomes unbearably tight and heavy at his low voice, and my thighs squeeze together as a rush of heat spreads between my legs.
“No.”
“What do you want, Nyx?” Giving me the choice… always giving me the choice. I swallow hard as I shift, pressing myself against him, and a quiet groan rumbles in my ear. He kisses the lobe and pulls it between his lips, sucking gently before his tongue traces up to the very tip and back down.
I realize I’m panting, and so is he.
