I followed him. “Don’t apologize.”
“I have to, Fyn. I keep doing this to you. I keep staring at you and touching you. Fuck, you don’t even like your brother’s touching you, and here I am groping you. I thought…”
Hope burned me like fire racing down my spine. “What?”
He glanced over his slight shoulder at me. “I thought maybe you might, you know, like me as well.”
My lips separated as my tail thrashed. He wanted me. My Caleb wanted me as much as I did him.
“I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, you don’t want this. Of course, you don’t like me. I’m dead. This is weird. I’m sorry. I like you. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. I mean, you’re soamazing. How could I do anything but like you? But I shouldn’t have, you know—”
“Caleb,” I growled right behind him. My wings wrapped around him. He could step through them, but he didn’t. “Do not apologize. I want this.”
He turned around, biting his lip. “You do?”
“Yes. Yes,” I repeated, the words ripping out from somewhere deep within me. “I shouldn’t, but I do.”
“I’m dead.”
“Yes,” I replied. “I can’t change that. And Crystal help me, I don’t want you to move on, because I need you to stay with me.”
He smiled softly, staring up at me. “You do?”
“Yes.” My lips clamped together, but I had to tell him. “You don’t have to choose me, Caleb. You can move on. It’s what you should do.”
“I choose you.”
Fire burned along my veins and my cock surged to life. I struggled to keep it from erecting. I only partially succeeded, and I hoped he wouldn’t see it hardening in my trousers. “I’m keeping you, then,” I growled.
Caleb went up on his toes and said right against me, “Sounds good to me.”
Chapter 18
Permissions and their past.
I sat across from Zoltilvoxfyn while he brushed his hair on the canopy bed in the center of his bedroom. Wind blew through the three windows, stirring the sheer curtains and flowering vines that wrapped around the bedposts. From one of the windows on the back wall, I saw the roof of his greenhouse, which made me oddly happy.
Fyn ran a comb through his long, perfectly white hair as he watched me.
“You’re gorgeous.”
He coughed, comb stalling.
Unfortunately, drakcol didn’t blush, but I was certain he would be right now if he could. I said, “It’s true.”
“Thank you,” he said in a tight voice, staring hard at the purple blanket beneath us. “I find you quite attractive as well.”
“That’s good. I’m sure my round ears and pupils are weird. That’s not even talking about my lack of scales or how short I am or my small muscles.”
“No,” he replied, setting the comb down. “I like them all. You are you, Caleb, and I like you.”
“Good.” Now, I’d be blushing if I could.
“I would like permissions.”
“What permissions?”
“What I can and cannot do? What do you like and dislike? How far do you wish to go at the moment?” he asked calmly, tail swishing.
