In those moments, instead of distracting me with sex or his cock, he distracts me with tender touches, curling into my arms, allowing me to simply bask in his presence. I do not know if he understands what that means to me, and I do not know that there is a language in which I can express my gratitude.
But I will continue to try.
For now, it is easy to keep the place clean. It helps him avoid the pain his body feels and the fatigue that plagues him after long shifts at his shop.
When the dishes are done, I go to the room to check on Niaus, who is currently sleeping in her little hammock that Zane brought over a few nights ago. She is nocturnal—much like many beasts on Erethar.
She is loud at night, but my Dante seems comfortable sleeping through the noise, and as I do not need as much sleep now that I am fully healed, I enjoy listening to her or sneaking from the bed to play.
For now, I do not disturb her. I check her food dish to ensure she is eating enough, and see that it is empty. As much as I wishto feed her again, Zane stressed the importance of not giving her more than what she needs, even if she is adorable and I want to give her everything.
For now, she is safe and healthy. Like me. She was abandoned by her kind—lost, afraid, starving. But I will never let her feel that kind of pain again.
She snuffles and makes odd noises as I pet her, but she doesn’t wake, so I slip from the room and make my way into the bedroom I prefer to share with my Dante.
Just as I pull the panties from the drawer, my phone begins to buzz, and I look down to see a video call request from my beloved.
“Hello,” I tell him.
His face breaks into a bright smile. When he is happy to see me, my hearts hammer against my chest. “Hey, babe. Did you just get home?”
I shrug. “Yes. I cleannnn. Check Niaus.” Words are easier, but I doubt my English will ever be perfect, no matter how much cum I consume. “I see Everest todee.”
Dante’s grin goes a little more shy. “Right. So ah…did he tell you…”
“Date,” I say carefully.
Dante laughs. “Yeah. If you don’t want to go?—”
“No. I wannnt. Dress fannncy, eat pooooopcorn.”
Dante bursts into harder laughter and swipes a hand down his face. “Yeah. Exactly. You’re welcome to grab anything you want out of my closet, okay? I’m going to be home in about ten minutes. I’m just cashing out the drawer and putting the deposit in the safe.”
I nod and stroke my thumb over the screen. I wish to touch him.
“Me too, baby,” he says. He must have heard that from my mind.
He grins again, then I hear in my head,“Yes, I did. I like when I can hear you.”
I like it too, but it also frightens me. It makes me feel vulnerable in ways I did not expect to ever feel. It soothes me to know that my Dante will never hurt me, but betrayal is sneaky. It’s hard to erase the fear.
“Soooon,” I tell him.
“Yes. Soon. I—” He stops. It seems there were words he wished to say, but when I try to probe his head, he distracts me by shooting me images of what he wishes to do after the date.
The head of my cock slips from my sheath for just a moment, and I feel heat racing up my spine. “My Dante,” I whisper.
“Soon,” he says, then disconnects the call.
It takes me a moment to gather myself, but eventually my cock retreats behind my slit, and the want I have for Dante settles into a warm, comforting pulse at the base of my tail.
It does not take me long to dress after that. Humans are oddly complicated with their clothing and their strange fear of being in the nude. They are much more open and accepting of pleasure than the Vyastil, and yet they wish to consistently hide their visible signs of desire from one another.
It seems to lead to constant confusion. I do not think too much on it, however. Dante has never hidden his desire for me, so it will never be something I must guess about him.
Grabbing the panties, I slip them carefully over my feet, then up my thighs. They’re stretched wider than before, but still not the most comfortable to put on. Once they settle with my tail through the opening in the back and the fabric presses gently against my slit, they feel good.
I run my fingers over the patterns, loving the way they feel against my skin. Dante seems to love it, too. When I put them on, the wave of lust I felt from him was so overwhelming that I almost spilled breeding seed on the floor.
