by Selena Kitt
“It’s still Christmas Eve,” he assures me, brushing something soft and feathery from my forehead, and I realize it must be human hair. My hair. “We have time… I promise...”
“Oh!” My belly lurches and I put my hand down to still it. Something is gnawing there, tenacious, and I gasp. “Something’s inside me! It’s trying to get out! It hurts!”
“You’re just hungry.” His eyebrows rise and then he smiles.
“Hungry,” I repeat, incredulous. “This is hungry? I don’t like it.”
“Let’s go get you something to eat.” Smiling, he stands and holds out his hand. “I think you’ll like that.”
I recognize most of the things he takes out of the refrigerator. Alex and I have talked at length about the things humans eat and what it might be like to taste food.
“This is cheese.” He cuts off a yellow strip and holds it out to me. His gaze moves down my naked body for a moment before skipping away again, searching through the pile of food on the counter. “You should probably get some protein in you to start with…”
Taste! What a marvelous thing this is! The texture changes in my mouth as the cheese melts over my tongue. Instead of quieting it, though, it makes the growling in my belly even more intense. I grab the hunk of yellow-orange stuff and the knife he used to cut it, determined to get more.
“Whoa, there!” He takes the knife from me, holding it high. “Sharp. Dangerous. Remember that.”
I shrug, taking a bite off the end of the whole block of cheese, moaning in pleasure at the sensation against my tongue. He watches me, amused, as I take another bite and then another, my mouth stuffed. The ache in my belly lessens every time I swallow.
“Okay, so you like cheese.” He laughs, picking up a round thing and removing its skin. “Let’s see if you like fruit.”
“What’s that?” I put the cheese down and reach for a similar round thing on the counter. It’s orange and cold and heavy in my hand. Zeph grabs it just before I’m about to take a bite.
“You don’t eat that outer part.” He shows me the round globe, nude now, its white, stringy flesh showing inside.
“Like this.” He pulls it apart, sectioning off a piece and holding it up to my mouth.
“Open.” He slips a wedge of the fruit into my eager mouth, and I gasp when it bursts against my tongue, releasing sweetness and light.
“Ohhh more!” I reach for the rest, taking it from his hands and biting off another sweet wedge, chewing happily.
“Well, oranges are a hit,” he observes as I give up on sectioning off wedges and just bite into the fruit, the cold, delicious juice dripping down my chin. I close my eyes, sucking on the sweet flesh, moaning softly. I realize I sound like every woman I’ve ever heard having sex.
If I’d known food was so good…!
“This is wonderful!” I lick at my fingers, the juice running down my hand and arm.
“Yes.” His gaze follows the juice dribbling down my throat toward my breasts. “It sure is…”
“Sticky!” I laugh, showing him how my fingers don’t want to part.
“How’s your belly?” He watches me suck the pads of my fingers, looking for more of that sweetness. “Better?”
“That ache is gone.” I nod.
“Good. Let’s get you clean.”
“No baths!” My eyes widen and I know exactly what he’s thinking.
I put up a huge protest, but he ends up dragging me into the bathroom and barricading the door while the tub is running.
“Sam, trust me,” he says as I pace back and forth, looking over my shoulder at the rising water. “You’ll like it.”
“Fairies hate water,” I remind him as he gently gathers my hair and puts it up on top of my head with some sort of clip.
“You’re not a fairy anymore.” His lips brush the back of my neck and it makes me shiver.
For the first time, I notice the mirror over the sink and step forward to take a look. My hair is long and yellow, just like in David’s picture, piled up in curls on top of my head now. I look the same and different all at once, my features rounder, but just as delicate. My eyes are blue and bright, my mouth a pink study in surprise.
“I told you.” Zeph’s hands move over my shoulders and down my arms. “You’re beautiful.”
“Am I?” I feel his hands move to the curve of my waist, turning me toward the tub. “Please, I can’t get in there! My wings!”
I stop, looking over my shoulder, glancing in the mirror.
My wings!
They’re gone!
Now there’s just smooth pale flesh stretching over two nubs suggesting where they might once have been.
“In.” Zeph directs me, and I step gingerly into the water. “Sit.”
“This is nice!” I groan as I sink into the tub, my limbs relaxing the moment they touch the warmth.
“I thought you might like it.” He smiles, setting his suit coat aside and loosening his tie as he squats next to the tub. I watch, transfixed, as he rubs soap over a cloth.
“Ohhhh, Zeph,” I moan softly as he glides the cloth over my skin. “That’s…so…”
He cleans my chin and throat, but doesn’t stop there. The wet cloth moves down my chest, trailing wet, soapy warmth over my breasts and belly. I don’t want him to stop rubbing there, but he makes me lean forward so he can scrub my back.
“Stand.” He rinses me, using cupfuls of water, before asking me to get out of the tub. The weight of what’s happened is starting to hit me, and I can see it in his eyes, too, as he sits and pulls me between his knees, drying me gently with a towel.
“I want…” My voice trembles and I don’t know how to make it stop. I’ve watched it happen so many times, and when I made the request, I was sure I knew just what I was doing, but now…
“You don’t have to ask.”
He stands and pulls me into the circle of his arms, and the moment his mouth meets mine, I’m lost. There’s never been anything in the world as good as the feeling of his lips parting, his tongue touching mine. His hands move slowly down to the small of my back, pressing my body against his, and the long, lean feel of him against my softness is intoxicating.
“More!” I murmur against his mouth, my hands curling into fists against the back of his shirt, pulling and tugging, trying to find some way to remove it without breaking contact.
“Bed.” He pulls me with him, the shock of the cold air making me gasp as he tugs me through the door and into his bedroom. I reach for him, fitting my mouth to his, wanting more of this kissing thing. He obliges, kissing me down onto the bed as he fumbles with the buttons on his shirt.
When his bare skin touches mine, I break the kiss, staring at him in wonder. Then I tear at his shirt, yanking it off, and tug in frustration at his trousers. I feel him chuckling as he kisses my throat—oh that’s delightful! The little shivery sensations it sends through me make my breath come faster.
“Easy.” He takes my eager hands in his and presses them above my head, his mouth feathering kisses around mine. “Let me… okay?”
I nod. I don’t know what I’m doing anyway… I might as well…
Oh for the love of everything magical, what is he doing!?
His mouth leaves wet trails down over my breasts. I stare at him, fascinated, as he takes the nipple between his lips, sucking gently. Whimpering, I can’t help but arch my back at the sensation. And I thought kissing felt good!
“Please!” I grab his head, the body I’m in squirming and wiggling and writhing all on its own, trying to get more or trying to get away, I’m not sure which. “Oh please!”
His mouth is soft but relentless, licking and flicking over the hardening surface of my nipple. It is tiny and pink and appears even smaller as it hardens under his tongue, the skin around it pursing and pressing it upward, as if asking for more. When his hand moves down my belly, I jump, eyes widening. There’s some sort of tension between my legs, an ache, a little like my heartbeat, which is coming faster in my
ears.
“What—?” I can’t finish the sentence. I can’t think let alone speak. His fingers rub over the fuzzy mound between my thighs, parting the wet flesh. That ache seems to grow, and I’m wiggling again, his mouth still working on my breast, his fingers slipping in between that slippery seam.
“Oh!” The word is surprised out of my throat as he makes circles with his finger over and over. I know what the spot is, I know its name and location, but even knowing the way I’ve seen women respond when it’s touched, I never expected this! I’m moaning and spreading my legs and grinding up against his hand like I can’t control myself—and I can’t!
He kisses his way down, down, past that impossible navel, over the downy hair between my legs. I can barely breathe, my whole body trembling in anticipation. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen humans do this, seeing isn’t doing. I’ve never experienced anything like it, and the moment his tongue touches that spot, I’m lost.
I’m saying things, but I don’t know what the words are, moaning and rocking my hips up against his mouth. My hands reach for something to hang onto, because I feel like I’m floating, gripping the sheet in my fists and pulling hard. He’s making noises, too, and those just make it even better, the vibration in his throat sending delicious heat through my body.
I feel like I could let him do this forever, lost in the rising sensation, feeling something swelling in my middle. And then something happens. Something changes. My breath is coming so fast I can’t keep up. It’s like this body is ahead of me and it knows just where it’s going. Grabbing his head, I press him hard between my thighs, feeling something wonderful cresting there.
“Ooooohhhhhhhhhh!” I gasp and moan, the sensation beyond sensation, spreading outward in hot, pulsing waves, extending past the borders of my flesh, moving in delicious, shuddering waves. I can’t stop it and don’t want to. I want it to last and last, his face pressed between my thighs, making those sweet noises.
When he kisses his way back up my belly, I’m breathless and wet, the air cool over my skin. The weight of his body covering mine dispels that in an instant, and there’s something stiff and insistent pressing between my legs. I know what it is, of course, but nothing could have prepared me for the feel of it.
“Easy.” His hand reaches between us, guiding himself. There’s a wonderful moment when he’s finding the right spot, slipping the head up and down, making me moan and clutch at him. “I’ll be gentle…”
Huge! He feels enormous as he eases his flesh into mine, letting out a pent-up breath in my ear. There’s no pain, just that feeling of fullness, being spread wide. I hold him tight, my eyes wide, and he looks at me and smiles.
“Easy,” he whispers again, touching his lips to mine, just briefly. “Let go…relax…”
I take a deep, shuddering breath, and feel the gentle swell and pulse of him inside of me. Reaching my hand down, I feel where we’re joined together.
“This is sex?” I look at him in wonder.
“Almost.” He smiles, beginning to move inside of me, slow, short, gentle thrusts, moving his hips in easy circles. “This… is sex…”
“Ohhh.” I close my eyes and smile, wrapping my legs around his waist. “I like sex.”
“I thought you might.”
We rock together, our eyes locked, and I feel it, that connection. It’s rising and warm, like the sensation in my belly. I recognize it now, and I want more. His eyes half-close as I watch and he thrusts deeper, harder, making the bed shift beneath us.
“Look at me,” I beg him, and he does, my breath coming so fast, our bodies coming together, the thick pulse between our legs driving us onward. There’s a moment so intense I can’t look anymore, I have to hide, and then he bites his lip, groaning and driving in deep.
“I’m gonna come!” And he is, and I am, too, the hot waves of pleasure rippling through us both at once, as if we’re one thing, and I wonder for a moment if we are. When he collapses onto me, I cradle him, kissing his brow. I’m smiling so big. I can’t help it.
“Thank you,” I murmur as he rolls next to me, covering us both with a sheet.
“No… thank you, little one.” His smile is sweet, but a little sad, as if he knows this is just temporary, that I will be gone soon.
Part of me doesn’t ever want to leave, but I know I can’t stay. I’m not meant to be human. My body feels like it’s singing or humming, and I like it. I also feel something else… as if I’m floating or drifting again.
“Zeph…” His hand caresses my hair, making me smile “I can’t keep my eyes open… what is this?”
“You’re just sleepy.” He chuckles, pulling me close and kissing the tip of my nose.
“I don’t like sleepy.” I yawn. It doesn’t seem to matter, though, because having a body is very demanding. It wants what it wants, and I don’t seem to have much control. My eyes close and I drift away.
Chapter Eight
“Zeph?” The bed is empty, but there’s an indent where he was when I run my hands over the sheet. The clock on the night stand says it’s just after midnight. So much time lost! I hate this thing called “sleep.” Why do humans need it? It’s so annoying!
My stomach isn’t growling but I want some more food. I want to taste. And I want more sex. More of his hands on me, his mouth, his everything.
“You’re awake?” He pops his head into the room, light spilling in from the hallway.
“Why did you leave me?” I pout, reaching my arms out for him.
He comes to me, enfolding me in his arms as he climbs back into bed. He’s wearing a pair of boxers and nothing else. I like it. My hands roam all over his body. I bury my face in his neck, liking his smell, even if I can’t identify it. As senses go, touch is amazing, taste is fabulous, but scent is the most interesting. The food, the soap, even the sheets, all have their own, distinct smell.
“I thought you’d sleep through the night,” he says.
“And you weren’t going to sleep with me?” I protest, running my hands through his thick, dark hair as he kisses my throat.
“I have insomnia,” he confesses, smiling at the way I shake my head at the unfamiliar word. “I don’t sleep well.”
“I don’t like sleep.” I wrinkle my nose. “Wastes too much time. Do you have more food?”
“Yes.” He smiles. “Are you hungry?”
“No, but I want more tastes!” I bite his shoulder, then lick it by way of apology.
“Then more tastes you shall have!” He laughs, getting out of bed and pulling me with him.
I find muffins on the counter and devour two. One blueberry and one bran. I like blueberry best. Those little blue bits are divine.
“We should get you some real blueberries,” Zeph says, rooting through the fridge. “And strawberries. Those are really something.”
“Where can we get some?” I ask, licking muffin crumbs from the paper.
“The store.”
Of course, I remember stores—those big, well-lit places with aisles were humans traded paper money for things. So many things. Humans seemed to have lots of needs.
“Let’s go to the store!” I stand, leaving my glass of milk Zeph has poured me. When he told me it came from the udder of a cow, I’d lost interest. When he told me I should hear where cheese came from, I stopped him. I didn’t want to know.
“You need clothes, little one.” His gaze sweeps over my nude form. I keep forgetting about clothes, although now that he mentions it, I am a little chilly. I’m not used to this whole temperature thing.
“I’m not so little anymore,” I protest as he comes over and puts his arms around me. His body and mine seem to fit together like puzzle pieces.
“No, but you still feel little in my arms.” He kisses my neck, sending those little shivery feelings down my spine, making the hair on my arms stand up. “Oh, damn, it’s Christmas Eve. The stores are closed.”
“There has to be something open,” I protest.
“Maybe a gas
station.” He sighs. “But they don’t sell blueberries.”
“What do they sell?” I ask, curious. I’ve never paid that much attention to human consumption. Fairies don’t need anything.
“Gas.” He laughs. “Cookies, chips, soda, Slurpees…”
“What’s a Slurpee?” I perk up.
“Do you really want to know?” He smiles, planting a kiss on my nose.
“I want to know everything!” I announce, throwing my arms wide, my head back, letting him catch me and pull me back to him. “I want to see everything. I want to do everything.”
“You’ve only got twenty-four hours.” He reminds me of this with a wistful smile.
“I know, so we better get started now!” I don’t like to think about how short our time is. I just want to make the most of it, and even if I feel sleepy, I don’t care. I don’t want to waste a minute with my eyes closed.
“What do you want to do most?” He kisses the top of my head, hands roaming over my back.
“You mean, besides you?” I slant a smile at him, sliding a hand into his boxers.
“Yes, besides me.” He grins but doesn’t stop me.
“Let’s do Christmas,” I say, feeling him stir in my hand. I don’t know what doing Christmas looks like, exactly, but I know how it makes me feel, and I like it. I’ve also found a few other things I like here in the human world. “And food. And sex. And more Christmas. And more sex.”
He laughs, tilting my chin up so he can kiss me. I feel him stiffen in my hand as our kiss deepens, his mouth exploring mine. He groans when we part, then gives a resigned sigh.
“Oh the hell with it, let’s get you dressed and go see what’s open.”
It looks like we’re doing Christmas first.
I wear a pair of Zeph’s boxer briefs and one of his button-down white shirts tucked into a pair of black sweatpants with a drawstring I can pull tight. They’re far too long, but I tuck them into a pair of winter boots he gives me. Also too big, but I wear two pairs of socks.
“There, that should do it,” Zeph says, zipping up a leather coat over my clothes. “It’s supposed to go down below freezing this weekend. Might even snow.”