The Bird Gets Serious

"You really disliked her for a long time, I hear."

I frown. "Who said that?"

"You did. What part of I don't talk to anyone else did you miss?" He tweaks my nose playfully and I roll my eyes.

"I disliked how she treated people. A lot of it was over—you know what, I'm not even going to say it because it's getting redundant."

"From where I'm sitting, baby, it's all redundant with her—cyclical even."

"One of these days I'll listen to—" I stop mid-sentence as his hands move over me pleasantly. "Distraction is always the best way to get my attention."

"Give a woman what she wants, is my motto. Agreement and gropes are usually right up there."

"When I'm in the mood, I can go for both."

His hands wander more, making me wriggle, and he grins wolfishly. "Is the mood striking you now, pet?"

"Every time you're around, it nearly bashes me in the head." I scoot closer, eager to run my palms over his chest, his abs—anywhere I can touch.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am." He yanks me onto his lap.

I'm definitely ready to pretend no one else exists for a while. I flick a nail over his nipple, scratching it through his shirt as I squirm against his hands. Leaning in, I catch his lower lip in between my teeth, tugging on it playfully. His hand wraps around the back of my neck, holding me to him. His tongue slips between my lips, stroking against mine, and I nip at it.

I growl softly as his hands slide underneath the fabric of my tank to roam over my back, scratching with blunt nails.

"Baby, you feel good." He lifts his hips to rub them against mine and I chuckle throatily.

I lick from his collarbone to his ear, sucking on the spot behind his lobe gently. "You taste delicious." I'm careful not to bite too hard, but I raise a mark as I smooth my hands over his shoulders.

He growls in pleasure. Driven by emotions and desire, he bites my shoulder, then licks it to soothe. "Ditto," he mumbles. His hands move to squeeze my ass, and I rock against him.

Working the buttons on his shirt, I let out a soft groan when I get my hands on bare skin. My fingers move over his abs, dipping into his belly button before I lick the rim of his ear. This is kinda fun, snogging before the fireworks. It's very couple-y, you know.

He leans up so I can push the shirt over his shoulders and off. Once his skin is bared, he tugs the hem of my tank up and tosses it. Meeting my eyes, he murmurs, "You really are beautiful, Deli, and I'm one lucky bloke to get to see you smile once in a while."

I feel the flush creep up the back of my neck. "You always make me smile." Brushing my knuckles over his jaw, I whisper, "I can't say that for many people, you know."

He grins wryly before tweaking my nipples, making me jump. "I know. Lately, it's even less and I'm sorry about that. It's not my fault, but I'm sorry it's been so dramatic. When I coax a smile out of you, I feel better about myself. Odd, isn't it?"

"Not so odd. At least, not any more than it makes me feel better when you ask me to come curl up and purr on you."

Blinking, he looks surprised. "I love when you do that, kitty. You get cozy and warm, draping over me, then that soft rumble kicks in. It's like you're caressing my body from the inside. It's a good thing."

"I know. It's comfy." I smile shyly and shrug, as few people appreciate me for comfort and closeness.

He takes my chin between two fingers and raises it to catch my eyes. "What you did just then melts me. I doubt I'd be able to kill things if you used that on me too often."

I look up through my lashes. "If I shrug at you?"

"No, it's those brief glimpses of the soft center. The occasional blush or touch of shyness—even the kitty tiptoeing you did yesterday. Mixed in with the whole of it—" He rubs his hand over his chest. "I'm not used to it—it moves me."

"You have plenty of hidden facets that are endearing, too. Besides, you wouldn't get the glimpses of the squishy side if I didn't adore you so darned much."

He stops ogling my breasts when my words catch his attention. "A-ha. You adore me."

Giving him a look like he's gone daft, I nod. "Hell yeah, I do. There's no way that you didn't."

"That's news to me, kitty. Last I heard, you ‘liked' me." He frowns, looking like he's going to pout again.

I look confused. "I said that to yank your chain. Baby, if I only liked you, then why would I be letting you brand yourself on me? It's bloody ridiculous how head over heels I am for you. I assumed you knew."

He literally beams. Taurus smiling like the sun just shined on him is something that I never thought I'd see, but that's what it looks like. "Besides the ‘bloody ridiculous' bit, the rest sounds right nice."

Suddenly, he sets me aside and practically bounces off the couch. Reaching into a drawer by the mini-bar, he grabs a lighter and lights candles I didn't even notice. Once they're all flickering, he switches off the lights. Standing in the middle of the room, he pins me with his gaze as he slowly unbuckles his belt. "You love me, Deli loves me, the Sandwich loves me." He tosses his belt and undoes the top button on his pants, prowling slowly towards me.

"Rub it in," I grumble, watching him with a teasing glint in my eyes. "I'm never going to live saying that down, am I?"-

He gives me a supremely smug look, unzipping his pants as he goes. "Technically, you said ‘adore', not love, but I inferred." His pants drop and he steps out of them, kicking them out of his way. Naked, hard, and tight, he's shadowed in the candlelight as he watches me. "I wouldn't mind hearing the ‘L' word, though."

He runs a hand from his pecs down to his crotch. "If I'm a good boy, will you tell me? I'm fairly sure I can be good, though I've not tried it recently. Yeah, I'm sure I can. How hard can it be?" He looks serious for a moment, as if considering.

My mind boggles, trying to figure out which statement to reply to. I open my mouth, stop, then start again, and finally, I chuckle. "It looks hard, but I'm sure you can be a good boy. I don't know you'd look anything like yourself, but you could do it if you wanted to."

His cock twitches under my gaze, and his expression goes from teasing to hungry. He takes a step towards the couch as he holds up his hand. "I'll be a choirboy right until I spontaneously combust—albeit for all of five seconds—if you say it for me." His eyes reflect the light of a dozen flames as their shadows slide over him. He takes another step, flashing a fang at me playfully.

Christ in a cartoon. Somewhere in me, I knew that this night was going to make everything real. We're going to cross lines that I never considered crossing, and there's no return from a night like tonight. Can I do this? Can I walk into a room without a door and hope to come out alive? Once I say what he wants, once it's out loud and in the universe, I can't take it back.

It exists. It consumes. It can destroy me.Goddess help me if it blows up in my face, but I can do it.

"Come here," I whisper softly, holding my arms out.

All I had to do was ask. He's in my arms before my heart beats again. Studying my face as if to memorize it, his eyes roam before coming to rest on mine. His voice is husky, as if he's overcoming something caught in his throat to speak. "I'm here, baby. I'm not going anywhere."

My hands smooth down his face to his shoulders, smiling tenderly as I study his features. Stretching up, I press a kiss to his forehead, one on each cheek, and then on his chin. I speak in a low, velvety voice that I only seem to conjure when I'm in the bedroom. "I know. And I love you."

There it is. The world hasn't come crashing down, but we're alone. No one else can hear, and that is keeping me from shaking from head to toe.

He bobs his head, accepting my words. Leaning closer to me, he dips his head and brushes the barest of kisses across my lips. "I love you, too."

My arms creep up around him, squeezing tightly. I push up to kiss his lips, my tongue tracing the lower one before darting back into my mouth. "Good."

"I think you're right," he mumbles against my skin as he buries his face in my breasts. "I think I've got a tit fetish." As if to prove it, he lowers his head to a taut peak and sucks hard.

I groan softly as my back arches. "Not that it was a complaint, mind you."

"Scratch that. I've got a ‘you' fetish."

My grin widens and I slide my hands down his back, resting them in the dip of his spine. "I'm surely not complaining about that."

His arm reaches down to pick up the feather he dropped when he fought with Damien. He eyes me intently, slowly lowering the soft colorful barb to my cheek, brushing the most sensitive filaments over my skin. "I want you to wear my mark, love." Tickling under my chin, he inches downward. The feather dances over my bare skin, making me shiver.

I suck in a breath as it tickles over me. I want more and so does she, but there is only so much truth I can deal out in one day. I'm sure that etiquette dictates that I keep that tidbit to myself—that and my lack of a death wish at the hands of flying swords. "I want to."

The iridescent blue eye winks up at me as he strokes my breasts with its soft barbs. Over and over, he coasts over my nipples until they throb. Only then does he trace my ribs and glide over my abdomen. His eyes burn like the sun as he watches the long, luxurious trail. I'm right on the edge of screaming when he asks, "Where do you think, love?"

I blink the lust haze out of my eyes, trying to come up with a better answer than ‘any fucking where that gets me fucked immediately'. Drawing in a breath, I let it out slowly while my heart races. "It depends on what kind of visibility you want—whether people can see it when I'm not naked."

Oh, I'm being so cautious with that statement. Was I asking if he wants people to know about this? Yes. I can stay hidden, but it will hurt. I have to prepare myself for the sting that would come with it. I'm just going to rip the band-aid off and see if I bleed.

"How about this? I'll let you put it anywhere you want, even on your fetish." There's the brave kitty from days of yore: push the decision to him, make him tell me he that we're real. He has to admit it to me if I'm becoming a shadow sidepiece that gets loved only if no one's around.

That gambit doesn't seem to bother him. In fact, he seems pleased. He grins wolfishly, flittering the plumage over my thighs before pulling it away to trace down to my foot and back. "I have half a mind to put it in the middle of your forehead, you little minx."