Moreover, even after all this time together, he did not allow her to touch him. Nor did he sleep under the covers with her. Or kiss her on the mouth. And he did not join her in the tub or the pool, or watch her dress with lingering eyes. . . and he did not hold her when they slept.
Still, he was generous with his sensual talents, taking her time and time again to that place of transient bliss, always so careful with her body and her releases. And she knew it pleased him, as well: His body's reaction was too powerful to hide.
It seemed greedy to want more. But she did.
In spite of all the mad heat they called up from each other, in spite of the way he freely fed from her and she did the same from him, she felt. . . stalled. Trapped in a place that was short of an ultimate destination. Even though she had found structure in her nights working down at the compound, and relief and anticipation every dawn when he came back in health and strength, she was. . . quagmired. Restless.
Unhappy.
Which was why she had finally requested a visitor to come to the compound this evening.
At least she could make some progress somewhere. Or so she hoped.
Slipping out from the pocket of warmth she herself created, she shivered even though the heating units were on. The inconsistent temperature was one thing that she had yet to get used to on this side - and the only thing about the Sanctuary that she missed. Here, there were times when she was o'erheated, and others when she had a chill, the latter more prevalent now that September had arrived and ushered in with it the early frosts of fall.
As she pulled on her robe, its folds were cold, and she trembled within the fabric's cloying embrace. She made sure she was always dressed whenever she was out of bed. Tohrment had never said as much, but she had the sense that he preferred her as such: As much as he appeared to enjoy the feel of her, his eyes avoided her nakedness and ducked away, too, when they were in public - even though surely his Brothers knew that she stayed with him.
She had a feeling, even though he had said he knew it was her whom he pleasured, that he tried to find his shellan in her body, in their experiences together.
Any reminder to the contrary would be difficult for him.
Slipping her feet into her leather moccasins, she hesitated before leaving. She hated that he was in extremis, but he would never talk to her about it. In fact, lately, he did not speak much when she was around him, even though their bodies were fluent in whatever language it was they communicated in. Indeed, nothing good could come out of her lingering, especially given the mood he had to be in.
Forcing herself to the door, she put her hood up and her head out, looking both ways before stepping into the corridor and shutting him in by himself.
As usual, she left without making a sound.
"Lassiter," Tohr hissed into the bathroom mirror. When there was no reply, he splashed his face with cold water again. "Lassiter. "
As he closed his eyes, he saw his Wellsie in that gray landscape. She was even farther away from him, off now in the distance. . . harder than ever to reach as she sat so still among those boulders of gray stone.
They were losing ground.
"Lassiter - where the fuck are you?"
The angel finally made an appearance over on the edge of the Jacuzzi, a box of Freddie Freihofer's chocolate-chip cookies in one hand, a long-tall of milk in the other.
"Want one?" he said, jogging the calorie payload. "They're right out of the fridge. So much better cold. "
Tohr glared at the guy. "You told me I was the problem. " When all he got was chewing, he had the urge to feed the whole box to the bastard. At once. "She's still there. She's nearly gone. "
Lassiter put the spoil-your-dinner aside, like maybe he'd just lost his appetite. And when he simply shook his head, Tohr had a moment of panic.
"If you've bullshitted me, angel, I'm going to kill you. "
The other male rolled his eyes. "I'm already dead, idiot. And might I remind you that your shellan's not the only one I'm trying to get free - my destiny is hers, remember. You fail, I fail - so I'm not incented to fuck with you. "
"Then why the hell is she still in that horrible place?"
Lassiter threw up his hands. "Look, man, it's going to take more than a couple of orgasms. You've got to know that. "
"Jesus Christ, I can't do much more than I am - "
"Really. " Lassiter's eyes narrowed. "You sure about that. "
As their stares clashed, Tohr had to look away - as well as reassess any privacy he assumed he and No'One had.
Fuck that; they'd had a hundred orgasms together, so. . .