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I'm pretty sure the conmac are more “there” than he's giving them credit for. When I look at them, I see wolves, true, but I also see an otherworldly intelligence. I think about how the one bit me just enough to make me release my belt. There's still a human mind in there.
Or wait, fae.
Kassam looks so glum that it makes me ache. Impulsively, I stand on my tiptoes and tug him down, just enough to kiss his cheek.
He gives me a surprised look. "Why did you do that?"
"Because you're sweet. And because you seemed to need it."
He thinks for a long moment and then asks, "Can I have a hug?"
My heart melts. I know he's joked a dozen times that gods don't feel anything for mortals, but this mortal is definitely starting to catch some feelings for this god. I release his hand and hold my arms out. "Of course you can have a hug."
Kassam moves into my embrace, hugging me tightly and wrapping his big arms around me. He's naked—always naked—and for a moment I think it might be a come on, that he's just pulling me in close because he wants to get me naked. But then he sighs with contentment, his head dropping to rest against mine and he just…holds me.
And I hold him.
And…it's lovely. It's nice to just hug one another, to just breathe in each other's skin and share space, comforting with simple touches. I rub my hands up and down his back, murmuring soft words. I tell him that it'll be okay. That everything will work out. That I'm right here at his side.
"I am home, but I still feel lost," he confesses, his breath teasing my hair.
I run my hand up his spine. "I'm here with you. We'll figure this out together, I promise. You're not alone in this."
Kassam pulls out of the hug, his arms still around me. He gazes down at me, and his normally laughing face is somber. "I would be lost without you, little light."
"You'd be fine," I say automatically. "Anyone would be willing to be your anchor. I hear the benefits are pretty good."
He shakes his head, not amused by my joke. "I would be lost without you, my Carly. You have been strong and determined through all of this. I have had anchors in the past, but I do not remember any of them. They are faceless."
"Old memories—"
"No. Even when they were at my side, they were faceless. I did not care about them. I did not care if they lived or died, if they were happy or sad. I did not care if they abandoned their families to join me. But with you…I care." He strokes my cheek gently. "I will remember you, always."
A strange knot forms in my throat, and I don't know how to respond to that. He's obviously forgotten that I'm Carly the un-finisher, the woman who never sees anything through. Even right now, the urge to run away from his heartfelt words is strong. I'm not good at relationships. I'm not good at forever. But Kassam has never promised me forever, and that steadies me a little. I give him a saucy wink. "You're just saying that because I gave your prostate a tickle."
Kassam chuckles, his thumb moving across my skin to tease my lower lip. "You are very proud of yourself for that, you know."
"I should be. You're a god. I have to figure out how to one-up you when you go all hedonism on me. I can't have you bored."
He shakes his head. "I'm never bored with you. It's strange to realize that, but even in the quiet moments, when we are not touching, I like your company." He strokes my lip again, his expression thoughtful. "Do you still not want me to kiss you? On the lips?"
Oh. Are we going there?
My heart flutters. "It's just…I know we're in this to scratch each other's itches. But for me, if we add kisses, it has to mean something. It has to be more than just responding to a base need. Does that make sense?"
"And if I tell you I still want to kiss you, my wife?" His eyes are molten silver.
Heat blooms through my body, and I feel…warm. Happy. Today has been absolute shit but I forget all of it in this moment. I gaze up at him, and then nod, almost shy. "Then we can kiss."
Kassam leans in, and his lips graze mine in the lightest caress. As kisses go, it's just a tease, and I decide that if that's all I get, I'm going to riot. He can't say things like that and then just butterfly-peck me. He—
The god captures my chin, angling my mouth, and then consumes me. His mouth devours mine, hungry and seeking and desperate. I meet him with equal urgency, desperate to lose myself in the pleasure of his embrace. His tongue strokes against mine, deep and certain and ravenous. This is familiar, this utterly consuming hedonism, and I moan against him.
