I frowned, thoroughly confused. “Supposed to what?”
His ears fluttered wildly as he scrubbed his face. “Was I too… Should I have…”
When he trailed off again, I gripped his knee and asked, “Should you have what, Greid? Stopped?” I guessed. “No. I didn’t want you to stop. I would have told you if I wanted you to stop. Did you want to stop?”
Dread flooded my belly like acid at the thought, but he quickly shook his head.
“No. Definitely not. I didn’t want to stop.”
“Okay, so…” I sat back and fiddled with the blankets, feeling strangely self-conscious. “What did you mean? Should you have what?”
He groaned and covered his face with his hands. “I don’t know. I just… Agma hated it when I was… like that.”
I flinched at the sound of his ex’s name mere moments after what we’d just done, but I still didn’t understand what he meant.
“No, I’m sorry,” Greid blurted out, shifting to face me and touching my arm. “I wasn’t thinking about her, Beryl. Not while we were—I just meant… she—she hated it if I was… You know.” His throat bobbed, and he whispered, “Submissive.”
I stared at him in shock. What? She’d hated it when he went all pliant and eager and desperate? How the fuck could anyone hate that?
Was that what he’d meant, when he said they wanted different things? And had she made him feel ashamed for it? He was acting like he thought he’d done something wrong. Fury boiled up, making my hands clench into fists.
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with you being submissive, Greid.” My voice trembled with emotion. “I liked it. I loved it. What we just did… You were amazing.”
He still looked so uncertain, hunched over and staring down at his hands. Not letting myself think too hard about it, I knee-walked closer and wrapped my arms around his head, pulling him into my chest.
He sagged against me, wrapping his long arms around my middle and clutching me tight. “Really?” he asked in a tiny voice.
My throat closed up. I pressed my lips to his hair and murmured, “Yes. It was perfect. You were so good, Greid.”
He shuddered, fingers clinging to the fabric of my onesie. Leaning back a little, I cupped his face and tilted his chin up so I could look at him.
“I told you I like being in control,” I said with a little smile, though it stretched into a grin when his eyes flared with renewed heat.
He licked his lips. “Y-Yeah. I remember.”
Stroking my thumb over his sharp cheekbone, I let my gaze drift down to his mouth. “Can I kiss you again, Greid?”
“Yes,” he said immediately, eyes turning pleading. “Please.”
His mouth was so wonderfully eager as I pressed mine to it, his long fingers clutching me tighter and a shudder wracking his frame when our tongues glided together. I gently urged him to lie back down, and he went willingly, shivering with pleasure as I lay down on top of him. For the first time since getting it, I wished I wasn’t wearing this giant hoodie. I wanted to feel his hands on me. Maybe if I hitched it up enough, he could get his hands under my pyjama top—
“B-Beryl.” He tore his mouth from mine, breathing hard and staring up at me with wide eyes. “I don’t—I don’t want you to think that I… planned for this or anything, when I went to the compound and asked you… I really didn’t. I promise. I didn’t ever expect to… I like you so much, but I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable or like I’d go back on anything if you didn’t want the same thing.”
I softened, cupping his cheek. “I know, Greid. And I know you wouldn’t do that.” Kissing him again, I murmured against his mouth, “I really like you too. I’ve wanted to do this for a while.”
He let out a shuddering breath. “Me too.”
“Shall we just see what happens?” I smiled down at him. “I think it could… I think we could be really good. Together, I mean.”
His eyes filled with fragile hope. “Me too,” he said again, then exhaled softly as his body went lax beneath me. “Beryl.”
I kissed him again. Now that I’d done it, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to stop. The TV droned quietly on the other side of the room, forgotten as our tongues glided together. Greid’s was longer than a human’s. It had soft ridges down each side and felt almost rippled along the centre. I shuddered, imagining what that would feel like on other parts of me. Every other part of me.
I finally lifted my head when he squirmed and made a muffled sound against my mouth long minutes later.
“Shit.” He winced, lifting the neck of his hoodie and peering into its depths. “There’s, um, there’s jizz everywhere in there.”
I snorted with laughter and sat back on my heels so he could shift upright. “Are you not wearing a shirt underneath?”
“No, which was a mistake.” He ducked his head, ears fluttering. “Not that I knew we were gonna… That I was going to be… You know. Coming.”
My mouth stretched into a wide, slightly filthy grin that made his face spikes twitch as he glanced over at me sheepishly. “Well, good job you have more than one, huh?”
He had two giant onesies that he wore in rotation, so he wouldn’t have to go without while one was in the wash.
“Yeah.” He climbed off the couch. “I better—I’ll just go take a quick shower and put this in the laundry.”
“Are you coming back?”
“Yeah, of course,” he said hoarsely.
I grinned at him. “I’ll rewind the show back to where we, uh, stopped paying attention.”
Which reminded me—where was that piece of lettuce? I looked around in the blankets, glancing up just in time to see it stuck to the back of Greid’s onesie as he left the living room. I bit my lip around a smile. He’d see it when he took it off. Maybe. Or it might end up disintegrating in the washing machine.
My thighs still felt a little trembly from my orgasm as I rearranged our blankets and leaned forward to grab my water, gulping it down. The cramps had faded for the time being, so I was able to get comfy under the blankets as I rewound Gloom Falls and waited for Greid to come back.
I couldn’t stop the huge smile spreading over my face when he shuffled back into the living room a while later in his other onesie. He gave me a shy smile back, ears fluttering as he made his way over and went to sit down.
I grabbed his arm before he could. “Do you want to… Um, shall we lie down?”
Greid gulped but nodded. He awkwardly lay down along the couch, breath catching in his throat when I snuggled into his side, draping an arm and a leg over him and resting my head on his chest.
“Is this okay?” I asked. God, he smelled so good, and he was so warm, the faint scent of whatever body wash he used rising from his skin.
“Yes,” he said immediately. “Yeah, this is…”
Letting out a shaky breath, he dragged the blankets over us and wrapped his arms around me. When I felt him press a tentative kiss to my hair, I grinned so wide my cheeks hurt, squeezing my eyes shut to savour it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Greid
Sleeping curled up with Beryl was way better than passing out stoned. Way, way better.
When I blinked my eyes open the next morning, the TV was still on, showing a rerun of some house-hunting show from about ten years ago. We’d ended up watching late-night infomercials for a while, with Beryl teasingly asking if I’d bought each product that came on and me gruffly admitting that I had.