I knead my hands into his chest, then wiggle back and forth, as if burrowing into him. I snort again and settle my cheek down.
It’s how a caimite says,I’m home.
I glance up at him to see if he understands, and tears rim his eyes. His arms fold around me, squeezing tight.
I wiggle happily and hum, and his grip tightens.
Then he pulls me into a deep, hungry kiss.
I sigh with surprise and pleasure, meeting his tongue with mine, pressing harder into the kiss.
And all the while, I knead my hands into his chest, saying with every squeeze:
I’m home, I’m home, I’m home.
Still thirsty?
