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Oron blushed to his hairline. "I uh, I've worn that one."
She grinned up at him. "I think I found one way our crystal edges fit. You smell amazing to me."
"I'm not a shifter, but the thought of you covered in my scent is hot," Oron said shifting his weight from one foot to the other, adjusting his pants.
"I'm on board with that, in fact, can I always sleep in your shirts? Used ones, but not like stinky ones."
"Gods woman!" he exhaled and closed the distance between them. Instead of leaning down to kiss her, he simply lifted her in his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. She threw her arms around his neck and practically attacked his mouth.
She teased him back this time, loving the feel of his lips on hers. Everything about him tripped every trigger she didn't know she had. She leaned back enjoying the feel of his hands on her ass. "I could become addicted to your taste," she smiled impishly. "I wonder if all of you tastes as good as your lips."
Oron dropped his head back and breathed slowly through his nose. When he looked back at her she could see desire swimming in his eyes. "Let's do pajamas, possibly embarrassing sleep, then tomorrow night we'll be in the palace and not surrounded by roughneck Vanguard. You can find out exactly how I taste then."
She would have thought he didn't want her, but his eyes were smoldering and his hands were digging into her ass. "You don't want the men to hear me scream your name?" she teased.
His nostrils flared. "No. Not even a little. I am a jealous, possessive asshole and I want all of your screams to belong to me alone."
She shivered at the gruff tone of his voice. "I think that is sexy as hell."
"Yeah?" he asked.
"Oh yeah." She snuggled her face into the crook of his neck. There was the smell she was quickly beginning to crave.
He laughed and set her down rubbing his neck. "That tickled."
"Be right back," she said, before darting to the bathroom. Once inside she couldn't stop grinning.
She had found her soul mate, he was a fae prince and smelled like cinnamon rolls, spicy and sweet at the same time. She brought his shirt back up to her nose. She was in deep shit if his worn tee could have her legs shaking.
She quickly changed into her impromptu pajamas and washed up. She folded up her clothes and left them on the counter. They were her favorite jeans and sweater hoodie. They were probably the only things she owned that didn't smell like smoke.
Feeling nervous she opened the door to find that Oron had changed as well and looked to be wearing a shirt similar to the one he loaned her. He was sitting up in bed, leaning against the headboard. "I figure if I wear this one tonight, you can wear it tomorrow," he offered.
"You are wearing pants, right?" she eyed the covers. She couldn't tell what he was wearing from the waist down.
He nodded. "Promise you won't laugh?"
"Of course."
He stuck one leg out of the covers and she had to cover her mouth with her hand to hide the smile. He was wearing SpongeBob pajama pants. He cleared his throat. "I love this cartoon," he admitted.
"I do too. Maybe we can watch it together." She walked over to what she supposed was her side of the bed. She climbed in and was suddenly very conscious of how much she moved. Was she breathing too loud?
Beside her, he leaned over to the nightstand and turned off the light. "Temperature okay?"
"Yeah, good," she answered quickly.
"Izzy, baby, you need to relax or you'll never get to sleep."
"I'm relaxed."
"You're as stiff as a board and your hands are clenched."
"It's too quiet," she whispered.
"I actually agree with you on that. Hold on, I have an idea." She felt him get out of bed. She peeked over and had to hold in her laughter. His pants were glow-in-the-dark.
When she saw many floating SpongeBobs heading her way, she knew that he was coming back to bed. He fiddled with something on the nightstand before soothing wave sounds began
