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“I believe so?”
“Then I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Go kiss your boyfriend. Or boyfriends. Or watch them kiss. I don’t care. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She waves at me, winks, and then the mirror goes dark.
Watch them kiss? I’m amused and intrigued, but I doubt it’ll happen. Getting two of them in the room at the same time is all but impossible…and I’m not entirely sure they would like it anyhow. Perhaps it would be a bit too much like touching themselves given that their thoughts are connected.
A hand touches my shoulder and someone bends over me to press a kiss to my neck. “You are smiling. I like seeing that.”
Oddly enough, I can tell by the inflection—and the kiss—that it’s Ossev. I lean into his touch. “I was wondering if you were avoiding me.”
“Never. Why would I?”
Should I say something? Or should I let one of the others? Or does he already know? I hesitate, uncertain, and decide to steer the conversation (and my thoughts) in a different direction. “You haven’t been to see me today.”
“Have I not? Time can be such a fickle thing. You know we pay no attention to such things here.” He presses another kiss to my throat, and his soft as spiderwebs hair falls over my shoulder. “I have been lost in my work.”
Mmm. If it was distracted Zaroun or even controlling Neska, I might believe that a bit more. Ossev seems the most separated from his task, though, and I suspect it has something to do with the nature of it. He can put his work aside far more easily than the others. But Ossev saying he was lost in the webs? I don’t entirely buy it. “If you’re certain that’s all it was…”
He hesitates, lifting his head, and I know I am right. I know there is something else bothering him.
“What is it?” I ask softly, turning in his arms to face him. “You can tell me.”
Ossev’s expression changes to a sly one. “I have been breaking the rules again.”
Breaking the rules…? “Oh?”
“I am watching you from my threads. I am ‘cheating.’ The High Father would think me naughty.” The look on his face is anything but contrite, though. He seems rather smugly pleased with himself, and at the same time, he cannot take his eyes off of me. His gaze turns hungry, devouring, and my body tingles with awareness as he studies me.
Oh, I know just what this naughty god has been doing. Feigning innocence, I ask, “And what is it you watched?”
“You. With the others.”
He doesn’t seem upset about it. Here I’d been worried that he’d feel neglected. “And what did you think?”
“I liked it.” Ossev’s blue eyes gleam with intensity. “I liked watching you be touched. I liked seeing hands on you and a cock in your mouth.”
I bite back a gasp, as this is the most forward Ossev has been. It seems he likes being a voyeur. “And you weren’t jealous?”
“Should I be?” He toys with my sleeve, then teases a fingertip under the thick fabric of my collar and brushing it against my bare skin. “Their hands are my hands, even when I am not there. I see them touching you and it is easy to envision myself in their place. To think it is myself being touched like that. To imagine it is my cock between your soft lips.”
I move closer to him, putting my hand on his chest. His words are full of intensity and hunger, but not jealousy. I’m glad. I stroke my fingers down his front, smiling. “I would have liked you there.”
“Next time I will be. You can sit on my face. I care naught, as long as I get to touch you. As long as I get to participate in your pleasure and watch you come, I am content.”
“You just like watching,” I purr at him, amused.
“I like watchingyou,” he corrects. “It is different with you. I have seen a hundred thousand human threads and find none as interesting as yours, because you belong to us. Because you are here for us, and you are ours to please. It’s different.”
I wonder briefly if he would feel the same way with any anchor. Perhaps not. Would another anchor stand up to their demands and insist on not being used like a thing without feelings? Or would they say nothing and only interact with the Spidae when release was needed? Would that even help them touch their humanity? Or would it make them sink further into their aloofness?
Is it arrogant to think they might need…me?
“Not arrogant,” Ossev rasps, his arm sliding around my waist. “You are good at making us see you. You are not just a body. You are Yulenna, who loves pretty dresses even when there’s no one to see them. You are our woman, who gardens and hums when she sews. You are a person that loves to bathe, that laughs when she tells stories, and one that cannot bake bread no matter how hard she tries.”
I giggle at that. “I should be mad that you’re sneaking into my thoughts.”
“But you are not.”
I am not, no. I’m starting to expect it. And in a way, it’s not a bad thing. They can sense my mood and my anger without me having to speak it. We will never be false with each other again. The Spidae will know if they’re not pleasuring me in bed and how I feel about such things…and now they know me well enough tocare.
