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Chapter Twenty-Seven
Greid
Sleeping curled up with Beryl was way better than passing out stoned. Way, way better.
When I blinked my eyes open the next morning, the TV was still on, showing a rerun of some house-hunting show from about ten years ago. We’d ended up watching late-night infomercials for a while, with Beryl teasingly asking if I’d bought each product that came on and me gruffly admitting that I had.
She was curled up behind me on the couch, a knee tucked between my thighs and her arm wound around my waist under the blankets. I could feel her face buried in the back of my onesie’s hood and her steady breaths told me she was still asleep.
My chest went all hot and tight, and as I remembered what had happened, my morning wood grew about fifty times harder. Thank fuck she was spooning me and not the other way around.
I let out a quiet, shaky breath as I replayed what had happened, which didn’t help the boner situation. When she’d pinned my wrists down, I’d just… That had been it. Heat had rushed through every inch of me, my prick immediately waking up and nudging its way out of my sweats. I would have done literally anything she told me to in that moment.
I still hadn’t really been able to feel her. Just her soft mouth and warm tongue and the heat between her legs as she rubbed against me. My cock pulsed in my sweats, once again trapped beneath layers of fabric. Although, that had probably been a good thing at the time. If she’d slid any higher…
Worry replaced all the pleasurable feelings and memories in an instant. If we were going to… How was that going to work? As my mother had so embarrassingly put it, I was a “fully formed” biological demiurgus male. My dick could not go anywhere near Beryl’s bare skin. Or… any deeper.
God, I was not looking forward to that conversation. Unless Beryl woke up and had changed her mind. Then we wouldn’t even need to have it. She might wake up and be horrified by what she’d done. She might gag and say she needed to brush her teeth because my tongue had been in her mouth. She might get up and pack her bags and leave.
Despite my worry over how a sexual relationship could actually work between us, the thought of her regretting it or moving out kind of made me want to cry. I wanted to spin around and bury myself against her and beg her not to leave me. But of course I wouldn’t. Beryl could do what she wanted, and I wasn’t going to be the pathetic mess that guilted her into staying.
I am absolutely that pathetic mess, I thought, but steeled my resolve. No. I didn’t want any kind of pity relationship from Beryl.
But if she did still want to see what could happen… If we decided to… I let out a shuddering breath. God, the thought of being able to curl myself around her and cling on as we watched TV in the evenings. Being able to bury my face in her neck or her hair and breathe her in. Being able to kiss her. I wanted it so much my chest ached.
Fuck, my emotions were all over the place and I’d only been awake ten minutes. I needed a fat joint. And some breakfast. I needed Beryl to wake the fuck up so I could gauge her mood and react accordingly.
If she didn’t mention what had happened, I wouldn’t either. I’d let her take the lead. God, yes, please take the lead, Beryl. Tell me what to do.
Ears fluttering, I jumped when I felt Beryl stir behind me. She smacked her lips, rubbing her nose against the back of my head as she stretched. I tensed but didn’t move. She’d drowsily told me last night before falling asleep that I was keeping her belly warm, so I didn’t want to move away from her in case her cramps were bad again this morning.
Sure, Greid, you’re staying where you are for entirely selfless reasons. Asswipe.
“Morning,” she croaked, settling back down and tightening her arm around me. “You’re so warm. I’m so glad I don’t have work today.”
“M-Morning.” My voice cracked, which I guessed foreshadowed a new day of embarrassment for Greid. Wonderful. “How are you feeling?”
“Cramps are getting bad again.” I could hear the grimace in her voice. “I’ll go have a bath in a minute.”
She made no move to get up, so I didn’t either, but this was weird, right? I probably should have at least turned onto my back so I could see her while we talked. But then I might see regret or pity or disgust in her gaze.
My eye twitched. I stayed where I was.
“Did you sleep okay?”
I cleared my throat before speaking in an attempt to stop it from cracking again. “Splendidly.”
What the fuck? I cringed. I was pretty sure I’d never used that word before in my life. Had my brain leaked out of my ears when I came last night?
Beryl chuckled, and I felt her rise onto her elbow as her hand slid up to my chest—over a nipple, which instantly hardened, oh god—and she began gently urging me onto my back. “Greid.”
Taking a deep breath, I shifted around, trying not to squish her against the back of the couch, and stared up at her with wide eyes as her small hand rested over my pounding hearts.
She gave me a tiny, slightly nervous smile. “Are you okay?”
“I’m great. Splendid.” I cringed again. “I don’t know why I keep saying that word. I’m… I’m good. Great.”
“Are you sure?” she asked worriedly. Some of the light dimmed in her green eyes as she swallowed and said, “If you’ve changed your mind, Greid, that’s totally fine. We can just—”
