He’s curled on his side at the foot of the bed, positioned between the bed and the door like he’s standing guard. His back is to me, his charcoal-gray skin visible in the lamplight, the silver markings running through it like veins. His broad shoulders are hunched forward, as if he’s trying to make himself as small as possible.
I feel like the most horrible bitch in the world.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “Please come sleep in the bed, next to me.”
Zeth rolls onto his back and looks up at me. His black eyes stare at me, dark, intense and unreadable.
“It’s okay,” he says. “You should have the bed. I’m fine on the floor. Don’t worry about me.”
“No, I mean it,” I insist. “I’m sorry for being so awful to you. Please. We’ll each sleep on our side of the bed.”
He hesitates. “Are you sure? I don’t want to crowd you.”
I roll my eyes, but it’s not because I’m trying to be sarcastic. I feel like smiling, and I’m doing my best to suppress it.
“You can’t possibly crowd me more than when we’re merged.”
He considers this for a moment, then sits up.
“All right. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
Zeth climbs into bed beside me, and the mattress dips under his weight, the springs creaking loudly. I pull the duvet over both of us, and we lie back to back, each on our own side of the bed. There’s distance between us, but I can feel his warmth radiating across the space, the heat from his body reaching me even though we’re not touching.
It makes me feel safe somehow. Protected.
I fall asleep within minutes.
***
I wake up as morning light filters through the curtains, turning the room gray and hazy. I realize that I’ve rolled onto my other side during the night, and I’m facing Zeth.
He’s on his back, still asleep. This is the first time I can study him without him knowing, so I indulge.
The morning light illuminates his profile, and I take in every detail. His jawline is strong and defined, his cheekbones high, and his features angular and precise. He has no hair anywhere, just smooth charcoal-gray skin that looks almost soft in this light. The silver markings running through his skin look beautiful – intricate patterns that catch the dim glow from the window.
The duvet has slipped down to his waist during the night. His massive chest is exposed, broad, muscled, and powerful. I can see every defined muscle and admire the way they shift slightly as he breathes. My fingers itch to touch him.
He looks like this all the time. Symbiotes don’t wear clothes, but until now, I’ve actively tried not to stare.
My eyes drift lower, following the line of the duvet where it’s bunched around his waist. I stop abruptly.
There’s a massive tent in the fabric. His cock is huge, pressing up against the duvet, the outline clearly visible. The fabric is bunched low enough that I can see exactly how big he is.
My eyes practically bulge out of my head. I can’t look away, can’t stop staring. Heat floods through me, and my pussy throbs so hard it almost hurts. All I want is to pull that duvet off him and see what his cock actually looks like, see if it’s as big as it looks.
My breathing gets faster, shallower. I can feel myself getting wet, soaking through my panties.
Zeth stirs in his sleep. His cock twitches under the duvet.
I bite my lip hard and feel myself gush. I’m soaking wet in seconds just from looking at him, just from seeing that massive erection straining against the fabric.
I get out of bed quickly, nearly stumbling over my own feet. I rush to the bathroom and close the door behind me.
I hear the bed creak as he wakes up.
“Wren?” He calls out, concerned. “Are you okay?”
