Page 30

Music.

My arms tightened around a soft frame, and I groaned, nuzzling Vince’s silky black hair as I basked in his subtle floral perfume mixed with my own.

He didn’t react, his body pliant against mine.

His thoughts were a low hum, not dreaming.

The trust Vince was showing me after everything that had been done to him was utterly amazing. I was humbled by it.

I simply watched him, waiting for him to wake up. I shouldn’t have taken a nap with Vince, as I had responsibilities that needed to be seen to, and yet, the greatest pull on my instincts and soul was this man in my arms. There was no higher duty than caring for and protecting Vince.

His eyes fluttered open, and he blinked before grinning and tucking against me. “Donny.”

“Did you sleep well, Little Warrior?”

“Yeah,” he groaned, arms pulling me until we were flush. “So good.”

“I’m glad.” I nuzzled his forehead, and Vince silently asked me to kiss it, so I did, pressing my lips against his smooth skin. I traced kisses over his forehead, brushing his back over and over again.

Vince groaned and lifted his face to claim my lips.

I sank into him, reveling in the silk of his tongue against mine.

He cupped my cheeks, forcing me onto my back and fucking my mouth with his tongue.

I surrendered to him and swallowed the desperate noises that attempted to escape at the feel of him.

I didn’t want him to be put off by whatever groans I made.

He pulled back, panting, and I struggled to not chase him. I needed his lips on mine once more.

Vince stroked my cheek. “I like waking up to you beside me.”

“You can have this every day if you wish.”

“Can I?” He smirked, fingers pinching my chin. “I don’t know, you might be giving me too much.”

“Not at all. You can have whatever you want.”

He smirked, and my tail wiggled and my gut curled, low and warm. Vince lifted my chin. “That’s dangerous to say, Don. I might decide to take everything.”

“You can have it all.”

Possessive need rolled through him moments before Vince pressed his lips to mine again. “I want it,” he whispered, then kissed me again. “I want you beside me every damn day. I want to open my eyes and see your perfect face first thing.”

Soul throbbing, I replied, “You can have it.”

“Do we need to adjust our permissions?”

I fought a smile. Vince was honoring my needs as much as I was his. “You seem more comfortable about public affection. Can I touch you around others?”

“You can hold my hand.” He kissed me. “You can hold me with your tail.” Another brush of his lips. “I would prefer to initiate hugs or kisses.”

“I’m alright with all that.”

“What do you need?”

Him. I needed Vince, and that thought scared me, but it couldn’t be banished.

Those words couldn’t be said, though, so I suppressed them.

Instead, I thought about what I truly required at this moment.

“I need to spend time with you. I need to care for you, to buy or bring you things. I would also like to spend the night here, even if it’s on the floor. ”

He bobbed his head. “You can have that.”

“Sex is still something we need to discuss, if you want to fuck.” Vince had thought about fucking many times, but I was unsure if he was actually ready to be intimate this soon.

It wasn’t my place to say, though. Everyone handled trauma differently; everyone healed differently. Only Vince knew if he was ready.

“I want to,” Vince said, but a wave of nausea and unease swelled.

“We do not have to, Little Warrior. I’m willing to wait.” I would wait for the rest of my life. Vince was worth it.

“I want to,” he repeated, firmer, but the discomfort remained.

“What do you like?”

Vince bit his bottom lip. “I…” He swallowed, eyes closing. “I don’t know. We need to go slow. Maybe we can start on the couch. I could—” Vince broke off, breathing hard. “Maybe I can ride you or you can fuck me slowly?”

“I can,” I said; however, I was concerned about the dislike and disgust lingering in his thoughts.

“But first,” Vince said, kissing me, then pushing off the bed, “I have a gift for you.”

I blinked in surprise. It was difficult for people to keep surprises from me due to my inner fire.

Vince had to be gaining skills in the ability to think around me.

It was impressive for the short amount of time we’d known each other.

But much like Kalvoxrencol, he was determined to skirt around my gift and that determination meant he’d perfected the skill rapidly.

A thought of Seth popped into his head before ordering, “Sit down, Donny. I’ll be right back.” He darted out the front door.

My first instinct was to chase him, but I didn’t, even though it irritated me to have him out of my sight.

I took a seat on his couch and simply waited, though my inner fire remained trained on Vince’s thoughts.

With every step, the clarity dimmed, but I was still able to perceive his happiness, which made me smile.

There was something perfect about pleasing Vince, and I wished to continue to do so for as long as I was able.

When Vince returned, he was thinking so hard about innocuous things, such as the bland metallic gray of the wall that it nearly made me chuckle. He was attempting to keep this surprise a surprise , and for some reason that I couldn’t articulate, I loved that.

“Close your eyes,” Vince demanded.

“Why?”

“Because I haven’t wrapped your gift.”

Why would he wrap a gift and what would he even wrap it in?

He had to have caught my confusion, because Vince laughed, and the sound was like the purest magic to my ears. It clung to my soul and made it pound harder.

“Just do it, Donny,” Vince said. “It’s a human thing.”

I indulged him.

His thoughts remained on other things, and I didn’t pry, allowing him to keep his secret, but my ears perked at the slight muffled steps, which got closer and closer until I felt him brush against my knees.

It took so much more concentration to keep my eyes closed than it should have, but I managed it, barely.

“Look at me,” Vince whispered, and my eyes snapped open.

My jaw dropped. In Vince’s grasp was a Numxisian harpsichord. I’d never played one before, but I’d heard the music and seen the array of colors that it produced.

Something inside of me shattered, then reformed at the sight of Vince holding the instrument. I’d never received such a thoughtful gift from one who wasn’t related to me. It was… I couldn’t even say what it was, but I felt light in a way that I never had before.

“This is for me?” I asked, then swallowed to clear the roughness of my voice.

Vince grinned, pressing closer until he was standing in between my legs. “Of course it is. I said as much.”

And yet, I struggled to believe it. “I have no words.”

A slight divot formed between his eyebrows, and I longed to smooth it away, though I resisted, unsure if my touch would be welcomed.

He bit his full bottom lip and looked down. “Do you dislike it? I can get something better. You don’t have to take it. It doesn’t matter.”

Hurt prodded his mind, telling me how much it did matter to him. I shook my head so quickly it was a miracle my eyes remained in their sockets. “I love it.”

His smile bloomed like a flower under the sun and transformed his features. Never in my entire life had I seen someone as beautiful as Vince. His mind had always drawn me in, but now, I could say with some certainty that his aspect was just as magnetic as his thoughts.

This was dangerous. He was dangerous. I needed to flee, or else, I feared, I wouldn’t be able to. But I couldn’t. No, I refused to. Vince was something special, and I didn’t want to fight the gravitational pull that I felt toward him.

“Play something,” Vince demanded, pushing the instrument into my lap.

I had no idea how to, but I couldn’t deny Vince anything he desired.

I glanced from the new instrument to Vince, who sat on the other side of the couch.

He tucked one leg under him and brought the other to his chest, resting his chin on his knee.

From his thoughts, I knew he wasn’t expecting perfection; he merely wanted to hear me, to see me, to be with me.

With a slight smile, I settled the harpsichord on my legs and strummed the fragile strings.

A pleasing, light noise trickled out and the base of the instrument flared in a rainbow of colors.

Carefully, I pressed on some of the gossamer strings, then strummed with my other hand, listening to the noise.

Vince released a long gust of air and closed his eyes.

Nothing I played was proficient or even good, as I was still figuring out the instrument, but Vince was content and so was I.

There was something inexplicably wonderful about spending time together in such a mundane way.

It was as if us being together was an everyday occurrence—a thought I very much liked and yet refused to inspect.

When silence reigned for several moments, Vince opened his eyes. His voice wavered and his thoughts twisted and churned like the stormy sea. “Don?”

“Yes, Little Warrior.”

He swallowed, shaking as he hugged his leg closer. “I want you to fuck me.”

My cock twitched, firming up, but I remained seated and ignored it. Vince’s discomfort worried me. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am,” he snapped. “I want you to fuck me. But we don’t have to if you don’t want me anymore. I’m not a fucking catch. I know that.”

I moved closer and slowly laid a hand on his shaking arm. “I will always desire you.”

“Then fuck me. I’m ready. I want to get it over with.”

That wasn’t the most enticing sentiment.

I wished for us to be something remarkable, not a chore that must be hastened.

Though what did I know? I hadn’t pleased most of my past partners.

Perhaps I wasn’t good enough to ever be more than a chore.

And I’d never been hurt as Vince had. He might need to be fucked to reclaim something he felt he’d lost. I truly didn’t know.

“We need to discuss permissions,” I said, fighting my own unease at his discomfort.

Trembling and very pale, Vince said, “I don’t want to get into too much detail right now. Can I just ride you?”

“Yes.” That was a lie. I needed more, but I didn’t want to be a bother.

Eyes anywhere but me, he said, “You can use a condom . We probably should.”

The word “condom” took me a moment to understand, even with NAID assisting, but in the end, I gathered he meant what we called a sleeve.

I myself was disease-free, as I’d always worn one in the past and received regular health checks and tests.

Not to mention, I hadn’t had sex in over a cycle.

Vince had nothing to fear from me, but if he felt safer with one, I wouldn’t protest.

“I can, but I’m free of disease,” I informed him.

“It’s not you,” he muttered, “who was the whore.”

I pressed closer to him and cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look at me. Vince didn’t fight my hold, but a tinge of panic sparked in his thoughts. Remaining utterly still, I waited—I would let go if needed—but he relaxed after only a couple of breaths.

I said, voice deep, “There is absolutely nothing wrong or dirty about you. Do you understand?”

“You don’t care that I was a whore?”

“I care that you were forced to do things you didn’t want to, but I do not find consensual sex work reprehensible. If chosen, I find no reason why someone cannot do that line of work. You did not choose it, Vince. Your hurt is what I care about.”

A tear slid down his cheek, but his jaw clenched and his eyes flicked away to the side, refusing to meet my gaze.

I brushed the tip of my nose against his and whispered, “I want all of you.”

He swallowed. “Then take me.”