Page 99 of Dark Fey Captive

My stomach growled again. His hand stilled.

“I forgot to feed you last night.”

“That’s not true,” I said with a small smile. “You fed me several times.”

For a second, he was quiet. Then I felt him jerk inside of me and knew he understood what I was referring to. The first explosive blow job had nearly drowned me, but I’d loved every second of his loss of control.

“You need real food, Arena.”

“And a shower,” I agreed. “But I don’t want to get up. As soon as I do, there’s going to be a mess, and I’m feeling too lazy to clean it up.”

“I will clean it,” he said a second before he lifted me off of him and stood fluidly.

“Mess” was an understatement for what was going on with my downstairs as he strode to the bathroom with me in his arms.

“I’m so glad we waited to do this until there was a shower,” I said with a cringe.

He grunted and started the water, letting it warm before stepping in with me.

I should have known what he’d meant when he said he would clean it up. He washed me from head to toe. Slowly. Carefully. Thoroughly. An actual wash, though. Not an excuse to grope or fondle me. I’d never felt so cared for in my life.

He kissed my forehead as he rinsed the conditioner from my hair. I reached between us and soaped him from sternum to as far down as I could reach. He grunted. His hands stilled on my hair as I stopped focusing on washing and started to play.

Tipping my head back, I watched his expression. His hands settled on my shoulders, and he watched me just as closely, his gaze searching mine.

What did he hope to see?

Part of me knew. That part was still afraid that this was all too good to be true, though, and didn’t trust it to last.

Even before the world broke, I didn’t have the best track record for choosing men. And afterward, the decent men tended to die, trying to save people too weak to survive. The hardened survivors who remained never let themselves grow too attached. I was one of them. But Nav didn’t seem to be. Yes, he was a survivor, but he wasn’t hardened yet. Well, his outlook wasn’t. What I was currently touching certainly was.

His hands twitched on my shoulders as his hips jerked forward.

With a groan, he closed his eyes. I grinned, adding a little wrist twist when I stroked to the tip and at the base.

“I like you more than I’ve liked any other man,” I admitted, keeping rhythm. “I love the way you make me feel. All the touches. How you lose control. I crave it. That’s why I want to stay. Not because of the food—although that’s definitely a perk—or because I need safety.

“I wasn’t kidnapped by human traffickers. The island where I lived was safe. We used the radio to listen in on what was happening on the mainland and heard the rumors about grey men who liked beheading infected.

“Everyone thinks your kind is dangerous, but I know better now. You were so careful with me last night, Nav. Thank you.”

His jaw twitched a second before he opened his eyes and kissed me. It was hungry and yet tender at the same time. I was so distracted by the kiss that I forgot what my hands were doing to him until he grunted and pulled me flush against him.

It was what I loved most about sex with Nav. When he finished, it was like he needed to cling-wrap himself to me…like he wouldn’t survive without me…like I was important.

The kiss gentled, and he pulled back to meet my gaze.

“Not careful enough,” he said. “I saw you wince when I stood.”

I flashed him a wry smile. “It was the sudden absence of my new favorite sleeping accommodation.” I gave him a firm squeeze, and he grunted.

“Stay here, and I will get you some clean clothes,” he said.

Humming my agreement, I waited until he left to rinse myself again and turn off the water. Clean clothes were waiting for me on the counter.

Curious what he was doing, I quickly dried and dressed. The hallway was clean, the sheets were pulled off the bed, and I heard the washing machine start in the basement.

“Do you want spam and eggs?” he called up.