Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
“I’m glad I met you so you could remind me,” she teases, her expression soft.
My heart aches with joy at the sight of her lovely smile. “I am glad we met, too.”
We gaze into each other’s eyes for a long moment, neither of us saying anything. Love me, I mentally whisper. Be happy with me. I will adore you for all time if you’ll let me. Just keep your hand in mine and let me be your partner.
She rubs her thumb against my hand, and pulls away, reaching for one of the fried leaves. “You like these?”
“They’re decent. Some cantina food isn’t worth eating, but it’s hard to mess up fried leaves, which is why most places have them.” I’m more interested in the fact that she seems as if she’s retreating from our casual intimacy. Is it because she truly is that hungry for fried leaves…or is it that she worries she’s going to lose control again?
I suspect it’s the latter…which will make later tonight very, very interesting.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
MICHAELA
I can admit when I was wrong, and I was wrong about today. My mood is light as we hold hands in the air-sled, heading back to my house. It was nice to go into town and have a meal. It was nice to spend time with Aithar in public, eating junk food and talking about nothing. It was busier in Port than I’d expected it to be, and for some reason, I found that soothing. Maybe because it’s making me realize that there’s room for more than one dairy farm in the area.
Plus, I bet I can sell my buttermilk to Simone, the woman with the baking stall. To be honest, I would just give it to her if she asked, simply because it wouldn’t be going to waste. Pouring all that buttermilk down the drain because I can’t think of anything to do with it never sits right with me. Perhaps Simone can give me a few baking recipes, too.
Either way, going out filled my mind with ideas, and it feels like a good thing.
Aithar parks the sled in the designated spot in front of my house, and I don’t even care that he ignores the marked guide lines. Normally it’d make me twitch, but today I barely notice it. I’m not even dreading the mess waiting inside the house. I feel mellow and content and the weight of Aithar’s hand in mine has a lot to do with it.
He glances over at me, a little smile curving his mouth. “Was I right about today?”
I pretend to be offended. “I’m not going to tell you that. Your head will get too big.”
“W-what?” His free hand goes to the top of his head, touching the thick black cap of hair there. He looks confused.
“It’s a saying,” I clarify, doing my best not to giggle. “Your head size is not actually going to increase. It’s just that we say something like that when you get too cocky.”
He gets that bashful look on his face that he does when he’s embarrassed, and one of his pointed ears twitches. “Humans have such funny sayings.”
“We use a lot of different words to say things when I guess we should just say what we mean.” I give his hand a squeeze. “We’re not good at being direct or saying thank you.”
His smile grows bigger. “Is that your way of thanking me for today?”
“Maybe.”
Aithar’s expression turns crafty, and he lifts our joined hands to his mouth and kisses my skin. “But today is not over yet.”
“Oh no?” I feign innocence but my heart is pounding wildly. I haven’t forgotten that he promised to give me a dozen orgasms or something along those lines. It’s been so long since I’ve given in to pleasure for myself. When I feel the need to get a release, mine are always quick and efficient and usually managed in the shower. It’s about as sexy as cracking my knuckles. But playing with Aithar—kissing him, rubbing against him, making him come—has reminded me that I can take pleasure from things, too. That I like receiving as much as I like giving.
Aithar releases my hand. He reaches out and I think he’s going to brush a lock of hair behind my ear, as he sometimes does. Instead, he twines his fingers in my curls and pulls me close so he can kiss me. It’s the first time Aithar has reached for me instead of waiting for me to kiss him, and I’m shocked at the intensity of it.
Just as quickly as he kissed me, he pulls away again. “Today is not over,” he repeats. “Are you ready for more?”
I nod. It feels as if we’ve been building up to this all along. Our last month of teasing has led up to this flip in control, where he takes the lead, and I finally let him. I’m nervous, but more than anything, I’m excited.