Page 82 of The Female

I push his hand away. “If you get so hungry, why wouldn’t you just feed off me?”

Gray screeches, the noise high-pitched and full of frustration. “If I’m to that point of hunger, it’s safe to assume it’s because you aren’t letting me.” His voice deepens as he bends his knees and levels his face with mine.

“I’m more than happy with you being my only source, but if that’s something you want, you need to learn to disconnect our romantic relationship from intimacy. Imagine if I got angry and starved you as punishment. Made you go days without food. That would be cruel, wouldn’t it?” Gray whispers, his thumbs softly stroking my cheeks. “That’s what you’re doing to me by demanding you be the only person I feed on but also holding out when you’re unhappy.”

My lip trembles and my palms grow clammy as he explains this. It makes complete sense and realizing what I’m doing to him makes me feel awful.

“I want you to feed off of me when you’re hungry,” I decide.

Gray smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Why don’t you think some more about it before deciding? If this is truly what you want, I need you to understand I’ll be in your dreams even when you don’t expect it. I don’t want you attacking me in the night because I fed. I’ll stick to your limits, but I’m not going to ask permission whenever I want to eat for the rest of our lives.”

I nod, absorbing his words.

I can’t say I’m entirely comfortable with him entering my dreams whenever he wants, but I understand these needs are part of him. It’d be like him demanding I stop needing food. I don’t have control over that part of my body, and he doesn’t have control over his.

My mouth goes dry as Gray releases my cheeks and grabs my hands. He maintains eye contact as he brings them to his mouth and kisses my knuckles.

“Think about it,” he urges.

The air between us feels tense as I leave his closet. He doesn’t say anything as I head to my room and get dressed. My mind reels as I tear off my pajamas and slip on some athletic clothing.

Gray’s taken it upon himself to buy me a handful of sets after seeing how much I love them, the action warming my heart. My parents always complained about how expensive women’s clothing has gotten since it’s no longer made in bulk, and I don’t even want to think about how much these new sets cost.

I peek into Gray’s room once I’m finished, but it seems he’s already left for breakfast. He must really be hungry.

I continue thinking about his needs as I head downstairs. I understand I can’t have all of him while also keeping him from my body, but I don’t know how to disconnect sex from our relationship.

My parents raised me to believe the two go together, and I worry I won’t be able to separate them the way he needs me to. It feels like giving up a piece of myself.

Gray smiles as I walk into the dining room, his plate piled high with food. My guilt grows as I realize just how much he’s served himself.

“Stop,” he orders when I try to sneak through the room.

I turn, my lips twitching as I see him holding a fork full of scrambled eggs in my direction. He’s made his dislike for my disinterest in eating breakfast known these past few days, and I hurry over and accept the food with a quiet laugh.

My teeth clank against the fork as he shoves the entire thing in my mouth, his eyes narrowing as he makes sure I eat it all.

“Happy?” I joke as he scoops up some more.

Unsurprisingly, the food is delicious, and I happily accept what he’s giving. The shadows are excellent cooks and have managed to excel at the human foods Gray’s been asking them to make lately.

Gray nods and lets me leave after three more bites.

With a mock bow, I turn and begin my search for Silas. He spends most mornings in the library, and I need his help finding some books.

Both Gray and Silas have brushed off my questions about why there were so many demon women at that party, and I want answers. There were at least a hundred there and judging by the way none of the men were fawning over them, I’m willing to bet that seeing so many women is not uncommon.

Demons aren’t struggling with female births as much as they let on, and I want to know why.

Busting through the library doors, I turn to my left in search of Silas. He’s sitting in his reading chair and looks up with a raised brow as I hurry to him. Things are still a bit awkward after he watched me throw myself at Aziel, but he isn’t making a big deal about it.

He’s as indifferent as ever.

“I need your help finding some books,” I say, rocking back on my heels.

Silas stands, his expression shifting into surprise before he recovers and slips his mask of calmness back on.

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