“Let it go, my kitten.” Spiro’s low but gentle voice broke me.
Smack.
My floodgates opened, and my breath hitched. “Six.” I cried in earnest, squeezing Spiro’s tentacle to my chest.
I couldn’t think about what had happened, how happy I was with Spiro, and how little time we had left together. I was unable to plan how to tell him that he meant so much to me. All I could do was focus on counting, the steady slap of Spiro’s hand on my butt, and the sting it brought.
Tears streaked down my cheeks during the countdown to eleven, but when we got to twenty, I was full-on sobbing. My ass hurt, my face was wet, but inside I felt lighter.
“Thank—” My voice hitched. “Thank you, Chef!”
“Anytime, my kitten. Come here.” Spiro maneuvered my trembling body with grace until I was on his lap with my ass hanging in the air between his tentacles. The cradle he’d built for me allowed me to hug him and bask in his comfort while airing my spanked cheeks. I was still shaking, but when Spiro kissed my forehead and my salty face, I calmed to the point of becoming a bag of sand held by a man with way more patience and understanding than humanly possible.
“How did you know how to help me?” I wiped my face with the back of my hand.
“I didn’t. But sometimes when I have a good day, or a very exciting one, I need a break and some quiet. Your highs are higher than mine, so it only makes sense that your lows would be lower.” He stroked my hair gently. If I hadn’t cried my eyes out moments before, I’d bawl again from the sheer affection Spiro was giving me.
“I feel like such a failure so often, and somehow you make it better every time.” I sniffed.
“You can tell me anything. I won’t judge you, and I’ll do my best to be there for you, whatever that means, okay?” He looked to the ceiling, then down at my tear-covered and insanely ugly face. “You’re covering your ears and hiding your tail. I get it. And I’m sorry that something caused you to be so secretive about who you are. I’m your safe space if you ever choose totalk.” He released a slow breath and sat back, wrapping his tentacles closer around me, keeping me warm. He didn’t expect an answer.
But I didn’t want to hide anything from him anymore.
“I’m a failed shifter.” I turned my head away from him and focused on the flames in the fireplace.
“How so?” Spiro stroked my shoulder with his thumb.
“It’s stupid.” I shook my head.
“I doubt it. But you don’t have to talk about it.”
I sighed. “I spent my childhood unable to shift into a cat. Then, when I hit puberty, I shifted and couldn’t turn back. I was always clumsy, even then. So I got bullied a lot. Once I finally regained my human form, my cat ears and tail stayed. Now, sometimes when I’m distressed, my fur comes out all over my body, then disappears. I was scared for you to see it. But now I’m kinda…not afraid anymore.”
“You know I adore your furry tail and ears. If you ever turn all fluffy, I’d love to cuddle you or whatever else you want.” He nuzzled my hair, inhaling deeply.
What did I want, exactly? I wanted so much more from him. More than he could probably give.
I began to doze off, snuggled up to him, luxuriating in his warmth. Would he ever invite me to sleep with him in his bed? Maybe I should ask him for it. Beg. On my knees.
Chapter Sixteen
Kaos
Iwoke up to a note on my nightstand that read: “Pavlova is ready. I want you on the table by nine. We’ll eat.”
My heart thumped as I recalled our conversation from two days before. We were supposed to do fun things yesterday, but of course I had to go and have that massive drop when we’d returned from the city. I thought those happened only after being in subspace, but I’d never had anyone take care of me that way to know the difference.
But today was my day.
The note read innocently, but I was sure the way Spiro had written “on” the table instead of “at” was on purpose, and not just an ESL mistake.
Despite showering last night, I prepared myself again, from hair, teeth, to my bum and toes. I didn’t bother putting clothes on, which had been a good call as when I entered the dining area, Spiro was sitting at a chair, completely naked. His parted thighs framed his two cocks, hanging one on top of the other, as his four tentacles floated in the air on his sides.
The wicker basket at his feet was packed with an unusual array of items, but I could only recognize restraints and a glass bottle of olive oil. The table was spotless except for the blueberry-studded pavlova in the middle of it.
“Good morning, Kitten.” His low voice sent butterflies into my stomach even this early in the day.
“Morning. I see you’re ready for breakfast.” I gestured between him and the dessert.
