Page 23 of Dark Fey Captive

“What I like? What do you mean?”

“Your favorite color, food…anything that makes you happy.”

She moved behind the door, and I knew she was looking at me through the little glass hole.

“My favorite color is teal, a deep jewel-toned teal. And I love—loved—pizza. I miss it.”

I nodded, knowing it would not be easy to find her favorite food. But I could find many things that were her favorite color.

“Thank you. Is my time up?”

The latch made an angry sound, and then the door swung open. She stood before me, bare, welcoming. So beautiful.

I glanced at the shirt on the floor behind her. She had rejected it, preferring me.

Relieved, I pulled her into my arms—her softness welcomed me—and smoothed a hand down her back. She said she was not hypothermic, but her skin felt too cold. Did she not understand how to keep herself warm?

The thought barely formed when she sighed softly and rested her cheek against my chest. Smart female. She knew. Her little hands settled on my sides, tiny ice blocks that desperately needed somewhere warm to rest before they turned blue like her lips.

I carried her to the bed and pulled back the covers. She tensed slightly in my hold and tried to climb off me as I lay down, but I kept her in my arms, centering her slight weight on top of me. She remained stiff and unyielding as I stroked her back, just like the first time.

“You got too cold again,” I said, nuzzling the top of her head, hoping my warmth would help relax her.

I loved the way it felt when she relaxed on top of me. Like she owned me. If I had a choice, we would never sleep any other way.

Keeping my strokes unhurried and even, I slowly warmed her back. She shivered, her fisted hands tucked tightly against her sides, her forearms pressed into my chest. After a few moments, she let out a shuddering exhale and opened her hands, fanning her fingers out over my skin, taking my heat.

I knew she needed more. Her toes had not warmed at all.

“Tuck your feet under my legs,” I said.

She opened her legs without hesitation, but then tensed. It hurt to see her fear rob her of the trust she wanted to give. I gripped her thighs, keeping them pinned to my hips when she would have closed them again.

“Keep going,” I encouraged. “Tuck your feet so they can warm.”

Her breathing sped, and her feet stayed where they were. I smoothed my hands down the length of her legs and lifted my hips to tuck her feet underneath my thighs.

My cock tapped the crevice of her inviting backside.

We both froze. I had not meant for that to happen. Would she yell? Slap me? Never speak to me again.

I realized two things. She didn’t want a longer shirt for warmth, but for protection. And she was holding her breath.

“Breathe, Arena. You are safe. I am giving you my heat without asking for anything in return. Relax. I understand my mistake. Tomorrow I will find you better clothing so you feel safer.”

Her inhale hitched. Was she afraid of me now?

I skimmed a hand up her calf and hip, then along her back, showing her that I was safe. That I would not take what she was not willing to give.

Pass after pass, her breathing slowly returned to normal, and she softened on top of me.

She moved her feet underneath me, seeking a new, warmer spot for them. I lifted my hips to accommodate her.

My cock slapped her backside again.

She froze.

I kept moving my hand steadily over her skin as I settled my weight on her feet once more.