I want this little beauty to sleep on top of me every night just like this until it’s time for me to turn to dust.
21
Ivy
Tyson fucked me when he came to the bed. It was late, I think; I felt like I’d been sleeping for hours, and I woke to hot hands roaming me, a skilled mouth nipping, licking, and kissing me all over. He fucked me gently, in multiple positions, including from a spooning position with his fingers on my clit and his mouth on that bitemark. It was slow, gentle, and so very good.
I fell asleep afterwards on top of him, which is sort of embarrassing, but he was very comfortable. Until I woke again, feeling gooey between my legs while it was still dark. I tried to get out of bed, and he grabbed me by the waist.
“You can’t leave, Ivy.”
“I just wanna clean between my legs. It’s all messy.”
“Stay here,” he ordered and got out of bed.
It sounded like he left the building and I was about to go looking for him when he was back and cleaning between my legs with a warm towel.
“How is this so warm?” I asked. “Is there a fire in the other room?”
“All the towels were dirty, so I washed and dried them. I did wipe between your thighs after I fucked you.”
“Well… there was a lot of --- you, I guess.” I shrugged. I saw the reflection of his eyes and the white of his teeth in the dark room as he smiled with pride or something, and I looked away, shyly. “Where’s there a washer and dryer?” I didn’t see a basement door. Maybe it was outside?
“The garage,” he said, kissing my nose. “I’m tired. Talk to me after I sleep.” He rolled half over me.
“Your leg is heavy on me,” I whispered.
“I need to hold you here, so you don’t leave me while I sleep,” he reasoned.
My throat clogged up at that.
“Just hold my hand,” I suggested.
He pulled his leg back and reached over my head, so I reached up and grabbed his hand and squeezed. He squeezed back. The warmth, the feel of it, it made me choke up. I tried to shake those emotions off.
I’ve been a bundle of nonsensical emotions since meeting this man.
And if I was honest, I kind of missed the weight of that leg. I said nothing about that, though.
“I notice you don’t try to convince me you won’t leave,” he whispered.
I shrugged.
His mouth touched the back of my head and his big, warm hand over my right palm, which was above my head on the pillow, squeezed again.
“You know how to do laundry and drive a car but not how to peel a banana. So odd.” I saw through the window that the sun was beginning to rise. I yawned.
He chuckled and put his free hand to my hip and gave it a squeeze. “My head was foggy. The fog is clearing. Mostly. I haven’t spent time in this form for years. Things are coming back. I suppose some things are just things I never forgot. Some things, like things in this house, I remembered. I never bought bananas before.”
“Oh.”
“If I’d gone many more seasons without shifting, I might never have come back to this form. Even to catch your scent.”
“Whoa.”
I thought on it. On how different his life is to mine. He’s here in the middle of nowhere and said other than hunting for a wife occasionally, he spent all his time with an uncle who he said was a man of few words.
He’s not very worldly. He’s quite savage in many ways, in fact, like his last name suggests. I wonder, idly, about the people who he talked about. Maybe he did belong with those people. The idea of leaving him alone, with nobody, in such a state of lonesomeness that he’d opt to live as a wolf all the time? It bothered me.
Wouldn’t it be better, more gratifying to spend your life with others? And I supposed it would be freeing to be an animal with few worries, but would being a human be preferable? To have conversations. To have more choices about where to go, what to do, who to be? I didn’t know what it was like to be an animal, of course, so how could I know which was preferable?
I fell back under, into a blissfully cuddly sleep before the sun completely rose and I was warm, comfy, and snuggled by a man slash werewolf. As I slipped under, I did it thinking that something about this felt right, deep in my gut. My momma and her sister told me, my whole life, Ivy--- never ever ignore your gut. But I always veered toward not trusting my instinct. Why was that?
***
It’s morning. Bright and sunny. Birds are chirping and heat beats through the drapes, against my skin. I’m awake first. He’s still holding my right hand over our heads and his body spoons mine.