“You read like a book.” I danced my fingers along his thigh under the covers. “And you say what you want, too. You’re a bossy little devil while you can still talk.”
Kert chuckled. “I love planning and organizing shit in life, but the pressure of it gets to me. Submitting in the bedroom gives my head the quiet and peace I need, and you wrenched that control out of my hands in the best possible way.”
“I’d be happy to do that every day.” For the rest of my life. “Until you have to go.”
Kert murmured something in German, then snuggled to my side. “Then I have more requests.”
I kissed his horn. “Hit me.”
“I’ve always dreamt of you sliding your tentacles around me and inside me when I was asleep. So I could wake up to you panting, fucking me, telling me that you couldnt’ wait for me to wake up.” He traced circles on my chest with his finger.
“That’s hot and I’m more than willing to oblige.”
He smiled into my pec. “Don’t tell me when. Surprise me.”
I wrapped my lower tentacles over his waist and legs. “I love y—your wicked mind.” My throat was so dry I had to clear it. My mouth worked faster than my conscious brain. Was this all-consuming lust, comfort, and friendship what love was? Yeah, there was no point denying it. “When you discovered my paintings you said you had something to confess too.”
“Yeah.” He lifted his head and wiggled to sit up, but I pulled him on top of me instead. He rested his chin on his hands, facing me. “Remember that big installation sculpture I’ve been working so long on?
I nodded. “You didn’t want to tell me what it was and told me not to google it.”
“I was embarrassed to show it to you. Then, it blew up in the art circle and on social media, and now I’m sorta famous.”
“What? That’s fantastic. Congratulations.” I squeezed him to my chest then sat up against the headboard, dragging him with me. “Oh Kert, is that why you kept it a secret? You knew I didn’t have my art in galleries here so you didn’t want to make me feel bad?”
“That’s only one of the reasons. You’re talented, and here you’re successful in your own right. If you want recognition, you’ll have it when you’re ready to share more of your work.” He waved in the direction of the room full of paintings. “I wasn’t sure what your reaction would be so I kept quiet about it. The reason is the sculpture itself. Wait, I have pictures from the reveal.” Kert rolled off the bed to get his phone from the other room, showing off his perfect ass, then his swinging cock when he returned. He snuggled back under the duvet, tapped on his phone and turned it to me.
A gigantic structure dwarfed the massive, high-ceiling room of the gallery. Spanning what must be over twenty feet tall was a figure of a man with two legs, two arms and four tentacles.
The raised Tentacles held a globe—much like Atlas, while the hands cradled an anatomically-correct heart. The detailed ridges of every strained muscle were stunning, but it was the face that made me gasp.
“Yeah, I know. I thought you’d find it creepy.” He grimaced, then batted his lashes at me. “But then I saw your art. So we’re even. Sort of.”
“That’s me.” I scrolled to see a closeup. “You spent over a year on a sculpture based on me. The details on the tentacles and my face. The fabric on the groin.” It looked like a delicate, flowy material, blown by a breeze. Except it was from marble too. “Holy shit. I know you’re talented, but this is Luo Li Rong level.”
“Thanks. She’s my idol.”
I zoomed on the sculpture’s crotch. “Good thing you didn’t sculpt me naked since it’s only now that you’ve found out about my cocks.”
He stuck his forked tongue out. “I’d have to add them.”
“You would too.” I chuckled, returning Kert’s phone. “Now I’ll have to go to Berlin to see it.”
“You always have a place to stay. My house is yours.”
“Now that you’re famous, maybe not.”
“Shut up.” He smacked me in the chest. “Now even more than ever.”
The art world consisted of many introverts who hated fame being forced to interact with people, but Kert was such an outgoing social butterfly. “Are you loving it?”
“It was fun at first. Every local gallery knew who I was. I got invited to parties and met artists I’ve been a fan of for a long time.” He sighed, playing with the suckers of my tentacle. “But then the constant invitations for interviews, visits at galleries, art schools, and people asking me to make speeches became too much.”
“And normally you love attention.” I wrapped my hand around his tail as it floated in the air, gently stroking it.
“Exactly. But this was crazy. With the raised expectations for my next project, I’ve been getting calls about what I was working on. But I couldn’t. I sketched a few ideas but didn’t like any of them. I wasn’t inspired. I needed a break, to leave, to take a breath. And I had to see you too.”
“So here you are.” I kissed the inside of his palm. “Is that why you deleted social media?”
