Page 39 of Devour

The very best part of getting this close to Eli would be the feeling of how far we’d come. In a few years, he went from only putting his hands on me to rip me away from him, to tugging me closer. Brushing around my waist in a tight embrace or digging into my thighs or even stroking up my back before coming to a rest in my hair; feeling him against my bare flesh did unholy things to me. And knowing I enjoyed it only fueled his desire, which made the experience all the better. Tonight, he got very into it and began slightly lifting himself to meet me when I moved against him, which applied extra pressure between my legs and felt so good.

How good?

Maybe I should’ve panicked at that thought, but the exact opposite happened. Having Eli poking around in my head absolutely did something for me, more so than any other kind of poking I might have given or received. While “mind fuck” did not get used in this context typically, pretty much nothing about this situation was typical. Trust me, it accurately fit as a descriptor.

Right as Eli’s thoughts shoved to the brink, his face turned more against my ear, and the panting coming out of him… sublime. If I didn’t know any better, I might think he was—

Harder.

Uh…

Bite. Me. Harder.

One soft sigh hit my skin with a burst of warm air and he instantly relaxed, like when prey goes slack as a last means of defense in the jaws of a predator. Well, then. Maybe he did start to enjoy himself too much at the very end. Served him right for knocking around in my head, even if it made everything more enjoyable.

“You make it sound as if I’m doing it on purpose,” Eli said with a devious snicker.

“Oh, your god, stop.” I clamped my hands over my ears and curled up into myself on the bed beside him, but yeah, obviously that did nothing.

Ah, how the tables have turned.

“I’m going to think the filthiest shit I can imagine if you don’t stop,” I warned.

Go ahead.

Despite my threats, nothing helped. The days ticked by, and I could not get him out. Until now, spending every waking moment with my hubby would’ve been bliss. Sharing headspace was not.

As if that weren’t maddening enough, he had the additional advantage of years of practice consciously tuning me out or letting me in at will. I did not. Mostly because he shouldn’t be able to do this shit. Everyone like me could tap into thoughts at will, but only to humans. Hubs could read me with the same level of ease as I did him, which should not be possible for a human or otherwise. And him seemingly being better at this not only confused but infuriated the ever-living hell out of me.

Our current conundrum was, yet again, a very new and unique problem. And since there was only one other creature I knew who could potentially give me any insight, who also had the advantage of being old as dirt and was hopefully wiser as a result, I set out to find Gaia. Even though she likely wouldn’t help, yet again, I found myself desperate.

Gaia also owned and operated that super special secret club devoted to my favorite pastime, where we’d met last time. While it wasn’t a guaranteed place to find her, it was a good place to start. If my search came up empty, I’d sniff her out the same way she did when she came looking for me. Like I said, desperate over here. This was the most I had seen her in recent memory, and that only amounted to three times in about as many years. While I hoped I wouldn’t need to track her down again, we had to have a better system in place. Before I left this time, I would be sure to bring up texting and hope she kept up with the times.

Despite my current misfortune, I got lucky and found her fairly quickly. A woman after my own tastes, with all black furniture and decor yet again. Very casually sitting behind a giant desk in what was probably her office, using someone as her chair. I smacked my hand on her desk twice and pointed at my wrist. When you were older than dirt, it was easy to ignore time, even when it was of the essence. I did not have any for pleasantries.

“Nice to see you too, Rhory,” Gaia mumbled.

“This is time sensitive, and I cannot emphasize that aspect enough,” I answered. Yep, sounded like a madman. Kinda felt like one, too. I brushed my hair back from my face and lowered my voice. “Also, we should probably be alone for this conversation.”

Her eyes dipped down briefly before shrugging. “The gimp isn’t going to interrupt.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Or repeat anything.”

“Okay, so, have you ever had a meal so good it bordered on orgasmic?”

Gaia crossed her arms and slit her eyes. “This better not be about the priest.”

“Deacon. Still a deacon,” I corrected.

“You absolute dumbfuck,” she cackled.

“I know, I know. But what’s done is done.” I plopped into an empty armchair and groaned. “I fucked up. I admit it.”

Her eyebrow rose. “How?”

“Okay. So, I’ve come to realize nothing else can fill me anymore. Literally, nothing but him. And it doesn’t matter how when with him.”

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