He pulls out of me, the head of his cock glistening with a mixture of my wetness and his own cum.
I lay still on the ground but my legs are shaking, and with every residual pulse of my orgasm more of his spunk drips out of me.
He curls an arm around me, enveloping me in his embrace. We lay there on the floor, no words, just our breathing and heartbeats falling into step.
For the first time in weeks, the Blood Fever has almost entirely subsided. I can’t remember when I last felt this relaxed, this comfortable and safe. Even before I broke his nose. I don’t need to hold any kind of guard up because he’s here, holding me.
Maybe I could try to believe in soul mates, for Khent’s sake.
10
The key to making relationshipswork is setting healthy boundaries. Or, so I’ve heard. And that’s the advice I give to friends because it sounds like a smart plan. Just because I’m mate-bonded with Khent doesn’t mean I’m getting unhealthily attached. I’m just dating him the way I would date anyone.
Which starts with stealing one of his shirts.
Not really stealing, just borrowing it.
There isn’t a lot of mattress space left in my bed when he stays over, so I roll off the top of him and land a little too hard on the floor.
I grab his button-down shirt off the floor and pull it on like it’s a bathrobe, rolling the sleeves up a number of times before I head to the kitchen to make my usual eggs and toast.
“One or two eggs?”
“I don’t really eat breakfast,” he shrugs. He leans against my cabinetry as he threads his belt through his.
“You’ve said, and I cannot believe that,” I tell him. I can’t imagine not eating even a little in the morning. Usually, my stomach is what compels me to get out of bed. Two eggs barely sustain me till lunch, and eyeing Khent I can’t believe he doesn’t have at least a dozen.
“It’s my deepest flaw,” he shrugs, rolling his eyes with a smile.
I turned the stove off and slid the eggs onto their awaiting toast. I turned away from them to give Khent a good morning kiss, but of course it becomes anything but brief.
He takes a knee to come down to my height, shuffling his shirt off of me, putting his arms through the sleeves even as my hands thread into his hair.
When he’s halfway through putting his shirt on, he curls an arm around me, pulling me in and letting out this big sigh like he’s the most content person alive.
When he’s got me gathered up in his arms like this, I wish he would never let go. That the world could fall away and it would be just this until my stomach completely rebels.