“Well, I’m interested,” I purred, nuzzling his cheek and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, right over that smile line. “I’m very interested.”
His cock throbbed beneath me, fully hard. Ridiculously huge. God, I could probably fuck him and suck on the tip of it at the same time. None of the demiurgus in the videos had had barbs on the heads of their dicks. They’d all been smooth and bulbous, with slightly tapered tips. I wanted to suck Greid’s cockhead and feel him spilling into my mouth.
“N-now?” he said, voice cracking. I burst out laughing, lifting my head.
“Not now.” I nodded at his slightly bloodshot eyes. “You’re high.”
He went still, then shot an accusatory look over my shoulder at the ashtray on the coffee table, as if the shade had coerced him into smoking it. “I’m not that high.”
“Still high, though.” I climbed off his lap, gallantly ignoring the thick length straining down the leg of Greid’s pants. “And we can’t go into anything when it’s all brand new without completely clear heads. We still need to talk about your submissive nature as well,” I added brightly. “I did research on that too.”
“Oh god.” Greid slouched back on the couch. “I think I need to go lie down first.”
I chuckled, settling beside him and kissing his shoulder. I knew I’d already overwhelmed him by springing this conversation on him, and I didn’t want to push him too far, so I said, “Why don’t we table that discussion until tomorrow, then? Or whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush. And I’d rather talk to you about that when you’re definitely not high. It’s important.”
“It is?” He eyed me nervously.
“Yes, of course it is. We need to talk about what you’re interested in. What your limits are. You being submissive doesn’t mean I just get to boss you around and make you do whatever I want, Greid.”
His eyes went heavy-lidded, as if that was exactly what he wanted. Licking his lips, he asked, “S-so you want to… You don’t mind it?”
“I prefer being in control,” I told him meaningfully.
He gulped. “Wh-what about what you want, though?”
I leaned in with a wicked smile and kissed his cheek, then murmured, “I want to boss you around, Greid. But I want to make you lose your mind from it, so I need to know exactly what will make that happen.”
“I’m pretty sure—” he wheezed, awkwardly tugging at his pant leg. “I’m pretty sure I’ll lose my mind just from you talking about it.”
Laughing, I gave his cheek one more kiss before sitting back. “Then we’ll talk about it tomorrow so you can cool off first. Or maybe later, when you’re not high anymore. You probably have to get back to work, right?”
“Yeah,” he croaked, staring into space. “I only came down here to ask if you wanted a sandwich.”
I squeezed his arm. “Sorry for springing all that on you.”
“No, it’s okay.” He sat up straighter. “It’s good. I’m glad we… I’m glad. Thanks, Beryl,” he mumbled, hand creeping over to clutch mine.
“Of course.” I raised our linked hands to kiss his knuckles. “Now, sandwiches? You must be starving. It’s been, what, three hours since you last ate?”
He gave me a mock glare. “I have a high metabolism.”
I laughed. “Sure. Well, I could go for a sandwich. Want me to go out and get some?”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll order us some.” He fumbled to pull his phone out of his pocket, lifting his hips, which immediately drew my gaze to the thick length still snaking down his pant leg.
My tongue pressed hard to the roof of my mouth. God, I wanted to see his dick now. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to see how the barbs on it swirled down his length—all the demiurgus in the videos had had different patterns. They were kind of beautiful, in a way.
But Greid needed time to process. And he was high. Maybe once we were really comfortable with each other and I knew his reactions well in a sexual situation, I’d be comfortable doing stuff with him after he’d smoked a little. It wasn’t like shade was mind-altering, it just made him loose and relaxed. And hungry. But then again, Greid was always hungry.
Tomorrow, I decided. Maybe once we’d discussed the rest, he’d be comfortable enough for me to play with his dick. Make him come.
Well, I thought slyly, watching as he tapped on his phone. Make him come eventually.
I was definitely going to be bringing up edging tomorrow.
Chapter Thirty
Beryl
Greid ended up working until gone 10 p.m., and when he finally emerged from his workshop and shuffled into the living room, he looked so tired that I knew we wouldn’t be having any more intense discussions today.
I heated up the dinner I’d ordered for him—I’d actually gotten a bit worried when he didn’t even emerge for food at any point—and curled up beside him as he started wolfing down the enormous portion of lasagne.
“Did you manage to get it finished?” I asked him, firing up Gloom Falls on the TV.
“All the metalwork, yeah,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “My vision’s gone blurry from those fucking goggles.”
I squeezed his thigh in sympathy, then sat back to let him eat in peace. When he finished, he reached for his smoking tin and started rolling a joint, then froze.
“Oh, wait.” His tired eyes darted to me. “Did you, um, want to talk about—”
“Not tonight.” I grabbed another blanket and tucked it over his lap. “You’re tired. There’s no rush.”
“Yeah, I… guess not,” he said in a hoarse voice, which made my mouth twitch as I glanced at him.
But a minute later, he was relaxing back into the couch as he took deep drags of his joint, exhaling each one with a sated sigh. He slumped down further, and further, until his head tipped onto my shoulder.
My chest squeezed tight. Pressing a kiss to his hair, I squeezed my arm behind him so I could play with the long strands. After finishing his joint, he snuggled into me deeper, and eventually ended up with his head in my lap and his long limbs curled up under the blankets.
I sensed it the moment he fell asleep, his head becoming a little heavier as he stopped watching the TV, his body going completely loose. I continued playing with his hair as I grabbed the remote and put on an episode of Our Neighbours the Humans that we’d already watched, because I didn’t want to keep watching Gloom Falls without him.
I wasn’t at all tired yet, seeing as I’d spent the day lazing around doing nothing. My legs were starting to ache, but I didn’t want to move, especially when Greid shifted in his sleep, a long arm curling around my leg as if he wanted to hug it to him.
Fierce, possessive longing rose inside me. He was so sweet. Kind and affectionate and generous. I genuinely could not understand how Agma hadn’t been able to appreciate him—all of him. But at the same time, I knew that people were wired differently. What worked for one didn’t work for another.
I thought Greid and I would work well. So well.
We were already so close, despite the relatively short time we’d known each other. But living together didn’t leave much room for mystery, and besides, I liked that he knew me better than anyone bar my aunt. It was still a novelty for me to be able to just be myself, to not always have to watch my words or make sure I was acting a certain way around others. Greid just accepted me and didn’t expect anything more. I’d never had that before.