by Selena Kitt
“That’s why I’m here,” I admit, swallowing at the confession. “Because I wanted you so much. So very much.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be wasting time wishing for more time.” He nuzzles my neck, my ear. “But you make me so… hungry.”
“Hungry?” I smile. That’s a feeling I know.
“Believe me, I’ve been hungry before.” He lifts his head to meet my eyes. They’re dark with an emotion I don’t quite understand. “I’ve known hunger most people will never experience. But you… you make me ravenous.”
“Zeph—” I frown, trying to make sense of his words.
“Now that I have you, I can’t get enough.” His words override mine, and I let them. His are more urgent. The feeling in his eyes tells me that. “There’s something about you that makes my blood sing, little one. You’re like a fever that won’t break. I’m mad for you. I’m going absolutely insane wanting you, knowing I can’t have you…”
“But you can,” I insist, rolling onto him, pushing him back on the bed. “You can have me, Zeph. I’m yours. Right now, always. Time makes no difference. I’m yours. I’m yours.”
He cups my face in his hands as I slid him inside of me. I have to have him. I want all of him, deep. I want to feel him at my core, at the center of my being, the part that makes me who I am, the part that never changed.
Zeph kisses me, tastes me, drawing me in. I taste myself in his mouth, my tongue searching for more in the soft recesses. I don’t move on top of him. I just want to feel him, our flesh joined, but not just that. We’re connected completely, a perfect circle, linked endlessly together. And I know what he means about wanting me. It’s like I’ve always been missing a part of myself and have just found it here in his arms, but there’s no relief in it. Just a deep, profound ache. It reminds me of sex, a cycle of desire, cresting, peaking, and then starting all over again.
And I love it.
I love him.
I’ve never experienced such an overwhelming human emotion before. Is this what love is? This incredible, euphoric, scary feeling, like falling or flying? It’s exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. I’m not afraid of feeling it, of soaring with him like this as we rock together, I’m just afraid of the ending. I’ve never had an ending before, not one all of my own. Being human is just as amazing as I thought it would be, every feeling, every sensation, everything is intensified—but it’s far more dreadful too.
I understand now why humans seek pleasure, happiness, the ecstatic feeling of joy, even in their darkest addictions and obsessions—because their time is so short, and every moment precious. This moment—looking into Zeph’s eyes as he runs his big hands over my breasts, the hourglass curve of my waist, settling on my hips to rock me faster—this moment is the most precious I’ve ever experienced. I can look into him, through him, into myself, and we’re no longer two beings. We are one, complete, whole.
“Come here.” Zeph pulls me to him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, as if we could possibly get any closer.
And then we are. His mouth is on mine, his cock buried deep in my womb, our skin damp with sweat as we slide together, working toward some final release. Every moment of being human is just like this one, the sweetness, the passion, the longing for more. Zeph whispers in my ear, words that set my body on fire.
“You’re mine.” His teeth graze my earlobe. “I won’t give you up. I can’t. You’re mine forever, little one.”
“Yes!” I gasp, grinding my hips, meeting his driving, upward thrusts. I can’t deny it. For as long as I exist, for infinity, forever, I will remember this, and I will be his. “Oh, Zeph, yes, yes!”
“So sweet.” His teeth graze my throat, shockingly sharp, sending an electric zing down my spine. “So fucking sweet.”
He groans and buries his face in my neck, my hair, hands slipping down to my ass, squeezing as he fucks me—and that’s what this is. I’ve watched hundreds, thousands, of humans copulate, wondering what it might be like, but my imagination hasn’t even come close. As divine as our coupling is, it’s also raw and animal. With every growl and thrust, there’s a primeval heat. This is the very friction that created the universe.
“Zeph, I…!” But my words are lost in the sound of us coming together, the final shudder and explosion of it, like hot lava bursting from the center of the earth, the center of everything. We are nothing and everything at once. His body is so hard and rigid, arid desert plains against the soft, wet, wild curves of my own as we ride one glorious, fiery wave of bliss into infinity.
“Holy fuck.” Those are the first words he says afterward and they make me smile, bringing me back down to earth. “What in the hell was that?”
“Us.” I link my fingers with his as I slide off him, shivering now. My body is wet with sweat, the air cool.
“Us.” Zeph smiles too, pulling the covers around us both, making a little Zeph and Sam burrito. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me too.” I swallow and try not to sigh, because now all I can think about is how little time we have to be “us.” I’d made a simple Christmas wish—I wanted to have a human experience for one day. No more time was ever allowed, or I would have asked for more. But one day, I had reasoned, would be enough. I was wrong.
“Damnit.” Zeph groans and reaches for his cell phone buzzing on the nightstand. “It’s the middle of the night. Who—?”
I slip out of bed as he talks on the phone. My bladder’s so full it aches. This having a body is so strange, so demanding! I can hear Zeph talking from the bathroom, not the words, just the sound of his voice, low at first, then rising. Angry.
I walk naked down the hall toward his room, listening.
“I told you no! Why can’t you handle it?” Zeph snaps. I’ve never heard him angry before. I feel a chill go through me. “Look, you know I would, but Sam is here now and I can’t waste any time…”
I frown, hugging myself as I lean against the wall. Who is he talking to? Who could possibly know about me?
“No, Char!” Zeph explodes. “I can’t do that to her. I won’t.”
He’s quiet for a moment and I know the other person—Char—must be talking to him. But who is Char, and what is she saying to my Zeph? How does she know about me? And what won’t Zeph do? To whom? My mind is awhirl with all of this, when I hear Zeph sigh.
“Fuck, Char. I don’t know what to do.” His voice sounds hoarse, choked. “I’ve never felt like this. It’s worse than anything I’ve ever experienced… yeah, worse than that… worse than the fall… worse than starving… I feel like I’m dying…”
I can’t make any sense of what he’s saying. Is he talking about me? About being with me? Or is there something else, something I don’t know? It makes me realize I know so little about this man, even though the feelings between us are so strong.
“Okay, okay, I’ll do it. But we can’t be long. I need to spend this time with Sam before…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, but I know what he’s thinking. Before I’m gone. Before it’s all over. I don’t want to think about that.
Instead of going into the bedroom, I turn and walk the other way down the hall, turning left and heading into the kitchen. Zeph finds me standing in front of the fridge, licking cream cheese off my finger. I’ve been scooping it up from the tub. It’s whipped, light and velvety smooth. It takes my mind off the fact that time is passing, much faster than I want it to. Much faster, I could swear, than it’s ever passed in my entire existence.
“Hey, my little glutton.” He wraps my arms around my waist, his hands moving low over my belly. “Thought I might find you here.”
“Want some?” I offer him the cream cheese container.
“No.” His mouth moves over my neck, light kisses, sending shivers through me. “But I want you.”
“Again?” I perk up at the thought.
“Always.” He turns me around to kiss me, pressing me against the refrigerator, the air cold on my back and behind, but his hands
roam, heating me up.
“Who was that?” I dare to ask as his mouth moves toward my ear, nuzzling me there. “On the phone?”
“My friend, Char.” He sighs and I know I’ve reminded him of something he doesn’t want to think about.
“What did she want?” I feel something tight in my chest, something that burns, and try to ignore it.
“She’s a he.” Zeph smiles, looking at me in the pale light of the fridge. “He wants me to do something for him tomorrow. I won’t be long, I promise.”
“You have to leave?” The painful thought of being separated from him overrides the sting of my mistaken belief that Char was a woman calling my Zeph in the middle of the night.
“Maybe he can come here.” Zeph frowns. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
“It must be important, if he was calling you so late?”
“I told you, I don’t sleep.” He takes the cream cheese out of my hands and puts it back in the fridge.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No, little one.” Zeph puts his arms around me as he swings the fridge closed. “I’m not mad at you.”
“But you are mad?” I tilt my head and look at him, trying to discern his mood.
“No, I just…” His gaze moves downward, as if he’s just noticed how naked I am. I can almost see his thoughts flit over his face, his eyes growing hungry at the sight of me. If that wasn’t enough proof, the boxers he’d thrown on are tenting in the front. It makes me smile.
“Just what?” I prompt, snaking my arms around his neck.
“I only have so much time with you,” he says, bending his head to nip at my bare shoulder, making me close my eyes and tilt my head to give him better access. “And I want to spend as much of it as we can without clothes.”
“Well then we’d better get these off you,” I whisper, yanking at the waistband of his boxers and sinking to my knees on the kitchen floor.
I want to see if he likes my mouth as much as I like his.
And I’m not disappointed.
If the sounds he makes when I take his cock between my lips are any indication, he might even like it more!
Chapter Ten
“Good morning.” Zeph brushes a soft, cool kiss against my forehead as my eyes flutter open.
“I fell asleep.”
At first I’m not sure what’s real. I’ve heard about dreams but I’ve never had one before. In the darkness, with my eyes closed, there’s Zeph, his hands and mouth and tongue, his presence filling every part of me. It’s all sweetness and heat and I’m lost in it.
And when I open my eyes, it’s the same.
He’s there, holding me in his arms, looking down at me like he’s just discovered the best surprise. We’re in his bed and I remember the night before. The memory comes in like the slow dawning of the day, spreading through me with a warmth and thrill I never knew possible.
“What time is it?” I ask, my chest suddenly filling with a cold dread.
Please don’t let it be time to go yet.
“Morning.” He kisses my cheek, his lips trailing over my jaw. “Six or seven, I’d say. I’ve been waiting hours to do this…”
“Oh I hate sleep!” I sigh, putting my arms around his neck, tilting my head back for him. “It steals so much time.”
“You’re beautiful when you’re sleeping.” He lifts his face to gaze at mine, so much emotion in his eyes it almost hurts to look. “And you’re beautiful when you’re awake.”
“It’s Christmas,” I say, remembering with a smile. The thought thrills me. “Merry Christmas.”
For the first time since I became human, I wonder what Alex is doing. Probably lazing on a beach somewhere in Australia. Fairies can’t really feel the temperature change extremes, but we do love the brightness of the sun. The brighter the better.
“I’m supposed to go to Maya’s tonight for dinner, but I’ll call her and cancel so we can spend the whole day together.” Zeph’s mouth has reached my collarbone and he makes circles with his tongue in the hollow of my throat.
“Dinner?” My stomach rumbles and I sit up on my elbows.
“You have a voracious appetite.” He chuckles, tracing an invisible line down toward my navel with his tongue.
“For everything.” I nod, moaning softly when he takes a detour to my left breast, sucking a pink-tipped nipple into his mouth. “Is that bad?”
“No.” He pauses to look up at me, lips parted, eyes dancing.
“Wait…” I fully sit now, frowning down at him. His head rests in my lap, where the sheet is pooled, and he looks up at me. “Who is Maya to you?”
That feeling I’d experienced the night before when his friend, Char, called, burns through my chest. I don’t understand it. It came up when I thought Char was some woman calling my Zeph in the middle of the night. Now, remembering his fondness for Maya, that feeling is back.
“Maya?” He blinks, surprised. “She’s… she’s just… someone I care about.”
“Care about how?” My eyes narrow and I feel that unfamiliar emotion rising, raging its way like wildfire through my middle. It makes my throat constrict. “As a friend? Just a friend?”
“Yes, jealous girl,” Zeph says, smiling fully now, reaching up to touch my cheek. “Just a friend.”
“Jealousy…” I let out a pent up breath. “Is that what this is? Why do I feel jealous?”
“Yes.” He nods. “You feel jealous because you thought Maya was a threat. You thought she might take something that belongs to you. But you don’t have to worry, little one. I belong to you.”
“You belong to me?” I trace my finger along his jaw, frowning.
It isn’t true, of course, but I wish it was. I want it to be true, more than anything. He’d called me “mine,” over and over again the night before, as if saying it might make it true. If I could have my Christmas wish again, it would be more than just asking to be human for a day. I’d ask The Maker if I could be human forever. For the rest of a human existence with Zeph, however long that might be. Maybe next Christmas, I think, feeling hopeful for a moment.
But I know it’s a silly dream. This day, this twenty-four hours, is more than The Maker usually grants any fairy. A wish for a whole lifetime would never be granted.
“I can hear your stomach growling.” He presses his cheek against my navel.
“I’m hungry again,” I confess. That incessant rumbling—it’s so cyclical and persistent! “I think we should go to Maya’s for dinner. It will keep you from having to feed me again.”
“Are you sure?” He laughs, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing my navel, flicking at it with his tongue, sending goose bumps up and down my arms. I like it. A lot.
“We have until midnight,” I remind him, trying to make it sound like all the time in the world. I wish it felt that way.
“We’d better take advantage of every minute then.” He’s nibbling on my belly, sending little waves of pleasure through my middle.
“Can we have breakfast first?” I ask as my stomach protests again. “I wonder, can you combine food and sex?”
“Your two favorite things.” Zeph grins, sitting up and grabbing a pair of boxers off the night stand. I vaguely remember tossing them there last night after I’d taken them off him. Again. For the fourth time.
“Aside from you,” I reply, grabbing his shirt off the night table lamp. I’d been wearing it the night before and I slip it on now, watching him pull on his boxers. He is a fine specimen of a man, long and lean and chiseled in all the right places. “I still can’t decide which I like better.”
“Wait until you try bacon.” He pauses in the doorway, glancing back at me. “You coming?”
“Soon, I hope.” I hop out of bed, giggling, and follow him down the hallway to the kitchen.
Zeph starts pulling things out of the refrigerator—eggs and bacon and, yuck, even milk.
I watch, standing in front of the open refrigerator with a little plastic bin of blueberries in my hand, while h
e starts cooking at the stove. I eat the berries one at a time, contemplating the rest of the food. There isn’t much, honestly. Most of it we’d purchased the night before.
“Mmm is that bacon?” I ask, a juicy, intoxicating smell filling the kitchen as Zeph stirs little strips of meat in a pan.
“Mmm hmm.” He’s busy cracking eggs into another pan.
“Hm, what’s this?” I lean in to take a carafe out of the refrigerator, tucked away in the back. It had been hidden by the big gallon of milk. I hold up the red liquid, looking at it in the early morning light. “Tomato juice?”
I remember seeing cans of the stuff at the store with big, juicy ripe tomatoes on the side. I like tomatoes—especially those little grape-sized ones dipped in hummus, like we’d had the night before. I lift the carafe to my lips, tipping it up, the thick, red liquid making its way slowly toward my mouth.
“Don’t drink that!” Zeph grabs the glass container out of my hand, brows drawn together. He puts it on the counter, pushing it to the back.
“Why, what is it?” I frown, taking a step toward the enticing stuff. His denial has made me even more curious—and hungry. “I want to try it!”
“No, Sam.” He takes my shoulders, stepping between me and the carafe on the counter. “That’s… not for humans.”
“What?” I look back at him, puzzled, as he turns me around and steers me toward the kitchen table. “Who is it for?”
He sits me down in one of the kitchen chairs with a deep sigh. I look up at him, waiting for an answer, but he doesn’t say anything. He looks like he’s struggling, trying to find the words.
“Zeph?” I try to catch his eye—he’s looking at a spot on the kitchen tile, not at me—prompting him again. “If it isn’t for humans, then… who… who is it for?”
He squats down, taking my hands in his, and says softly, “…me.”
“You?” I blink in surprise. “But you said it wasn’t for… humans…”
He nods slowly, watching, waiting for my reaction.
“Zeph, who are you?” I whisper. It’s a question I’ve asked him before, and I’ve never received an answer. But I realize, now, I’ve been asking the wrong question. “What are you?”