Chapter 18
Kendyll
(Two Years Ago)
CATSPER PURRED AS I SCRATCHED behind his ghostly ears as much as possible in his phantom state.
The two of us lounged back against the plush pillows on the inn’s bed.
I’d changed into a long-sleeved shirt and shorts and washed off the day’s activities, yet I couldn’t shake the feelings bubbling up inside of me.
They were feelings I’d long harbored yet managed to keep subdued.
I wasn’t as good at suppressing it now, though.
Not after Xander and I spent all day together at the amusement park.
Not after Xander’s careful fingers ran through my hair, knuckles whispering over the back of my neck.
Not after he’d held me close under the light of his dim flames, mouth closing in on mine, and my name leaving those lips like a sacred vow he intended to cherish.
I sighed and looked over at the human-sized bat plushie, which I’d propped up against the pillows beside me. “What should I do, Nightly? I told myself to give up and let go a long time ago.”
I knew being with Xander was impossible. When I was younger, it was because of my age and his disinterest in me. Now it was because of me and my hang-ups. More specifically, it was because of my fears and insecurities, which had only grown over the years instead of diminished.
He wouldn’t want you if he knew.
I closed my eyes and tried to swallow down the rising disgust and panic. Today had been the greatest day of my life. I didn’t want anything to ruin that with these runaway thoughts.
“Meow!”
I opened my eyes slowly to find Catsper hovering right in front of my face. He stretched out on his back so that he floated upside down. I smiled softly at him while he rolled over and brushed his cheek along mine with a soothing purr.
The air thickened with a new presence. I didn’t need to look to see who now stood beside the bed. I’d recognize his spicy yet calming scent and the awareness he conjured anywhere.
“Still awake?” Xander asked. He perched on the edge of the bed, one leg bent while the other draped off the side.
Catsper, being the perceptive feline that he was, must’ve sensed the loaded, near-bursting tension filling the room, because with a final meow, he leapt through the air and disappeared. Maybe he wanted to give Xander and I privacy to unpack whatever was between us.
“Yeah. You’d think I’d be exhausted after such a busy day, but I just can’t seem to fall asleep,” I confessed.
I accidentally looked sideways at him. I didn’t want or mean to catch his eye, yet our gazes caught and held.
The golden eyes with their vertical slit held me prisoner, and the intensity flaring to life within them loosened my tongue until I stammered, “I—I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t … I mean, I want … It’s just—”
“You don’t need to explain, Kendyll.” Xander reached out to thread his clawed fingers through mine. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”
“It’s not that I’m not ready or that I don’t want it. I do. I just …”
I stared at our woven hands. Two sets of pale fingers with black nails overlapping, only mine was nail polish whereas his were very real claws.
Yet I’d never been afraid of those sharp talons.
I’d never feared him or his touch. It was always the opposite with him.
He’d always been soothing. His presence was peace.
I wanted his touch. I craved it. But I was terrified of giving into that voice of desire and ruining my one form of safety.
I squeezed my fingers tighter around his. I couldn’t manage to form actual words, so my desperate warring thoughts came out in that one gesture.
“Do you trust me?” Xander asked.
I looked up at him. An immediate response formed in my head, but instead of giving voice to those words, I simply nodded.
“Do you ever explore sex on your own?”
“What do you mean?” I asked stupidly.
“Do you ever explore your own body? Touch it, learn it, love it?”
I swallowed hard, the questions equally shameful and repulsive. “No.”
I held my breath in anticipation for the follow up questions that I assumed would trail my answer.
I braced myself for the probing into my fears and my thinking, a scenario that would take me back to Dr. Roberts office and the worn fabric of the smelly chair that sat across from his.
I cringed while waiting for the questions that would only set me back further rather than pull me toward Xander and where we wanted to go.
Xander studied me. I wasn’t sure if he saw my mounting unease over his inevitable queries. Whether it was because he knew that look on my face too well or something else, he didn’t pry.
Instead, he brought my hand up to his face.
The fingers that had been woven through mine moved to cup the back of my hand while his other held my wrist. He gently kissed the heel of my hand, causing a warm shiver to skate down my back.
His light kiss moved to the center of my palm.
Warm breath fanned the sensitive flesh between his parted lips.
I bit down on my own lip while watching him with rapt attention.
His kiss moved higher along my hand so that he slowly peppered kisses to each of my slender fingers, which twitched after each pass of his mouth.
With his lips still dancing along my fingers, his gaze lifted to meet mine. “Would you like to?”
My heart beat dangerously fast, and my hand burned as though exposed to the bright sun. That heat funneled from where he held and kissed me to cascade down my arm and through the rest of my body. It settled like a heavy cinder right at my center, but that feeling quickly mingled with trepidation.
My mouth opened and closed uselessly for many moments before I managed to whisper, “I’m scared.”
“Of?”
My lips pressed firmly together. I couldn’t put my fears into words. Not right now. Not yet.
After countless moments of my silence, he instead asked, “Does this feel okay?” He gestured to where he kissed the tips of my fingers.
I took a moment to think about the question, though I didn’t really need to. I nodded.
“Does it feel good?”
I swallowed the sand filling my mouth and nodded once more.
“Anything you do will feel just like that. Better, even. Pleasure can be whatever you want it to be, and the experiences will be your choice. Exploring yourself lets you control everything. How little or big. How deep or shallow. How hard or light. Self-pleasure is a gift to yourself, and the more you do it, the smaller that fear will become.”
I licked my dry lips and hugged my free arm around my bent knees. “Do you touch yourself?”
“I do,” he answered earnestly.
I’d never experienced true sexual urges. I didn’t know what that was like or how it would make me feel. Did I want to kiss Xander? Yes. Was I attracted to him? Without a doubt. I wasn’t sure what went beyond that.
Yet as he answered my inquiry, I was hit with a sudden need, one that swept through me like a tidal wave so strong, my next question tumbled out before I could even consider what I was saying.
“Can you show me?”
I expected to regret the request, but the minute the words were out, the more I found myself wanting it. That fiery pulse flared brighter at the mere idea of watching Xander satisfy himself.
Seeming to sense my intense interest, he didn’t hesitate to oblige.
He reached behind himself to grab his shirt and yanked it over his head.
The corded muscles in his arms and torso flexed with the discarding of his shirt.
It surprised me how badly I wanted to lick those two black upside crosses tattooed above his pelvic bones.
Standing to unbutton his jeans, his hungry eyes collided with mine. “Would you like to only watch or join?”
“J-Join?” I asked a bit breathlessly.
He nodded as he stepped out of his pants, now in only a pair of tight black briefs.
The upright bulge confined within the material made heat rush to my cheeks, but I didn’t hide from the feeling.
I embraced it and looked my fill of the large outline straining the material.
He caught my obvious interest and ran a hand down his torso to palm his cock through his boxers.
The sight caused my breath to hitch and my body to burn with a desperate need.
“Join,” he finally repeated with a rough and sensual edge to his usually gleeful tone. He came to the edge of the bed and offered me his hand. “You watch me while I watch you.”
“But I … I don’t know how to …”
“You’ll learn. And I’d fucking love to watch you do just that.”
I bit my lip and stared at his outstretched hand.
I wanted to. My fucking god, did I want to.
There were only a handful of times in my life where I thought about sex and how it would be if I one day found the courage to try.
Every time I pictured that moment, it was always him between my legs.
I’d never trust or feel as comfortable with anyone else.
This was my chance to reclaim the thing that haunted me, and there wasn’t another soul out there who I’d rather do that with than this demon.
Wordlessly, I slipped my hand into his. It was the first leap into deep waters, ones I expected to be frigid but were perfectly warm. That gesture, though small, made my muscles relax, and I leaned into the feeling of contentment that came from just having his hand around mine.
He pulled me to my feet, and for a moment, we simply stood there.
Toe to toe.
Gazes locked.
My hand held firmly in his.
His thumb idly drew circles on the back of my hand, and with each small sweep, the apprehension receded further from my mind until all I could focus on was our shared breaths, each flutter of his lashes, and the way the space between us became smaller and smaller.