“The right choice?”
“I selected it myself!” Adathan said proudly. “I’m so happy you like it. There’s a big bottle in my box.”
“You selected it yourself, huh?”
“Mm-hmm. As soon as I sampled it, I knew it was the one. It smelled just like home, you know?”
“Like home?”
Adathan nodded against William’s neck. “Yeah. It smelled just like the perfect home. Safety... comfort...” He let out a relaxed sigh. “Happiness.”
“You chose well,” William said earnestly. He didn’t know what to make of the fact that Serviteurs selected their own shampoos, but it gave him hope. It meant Adathan had some experience in making decisions for himself. The road to self-affirmation began with small steps—such as selecting one’sbody care products—and eventually snowballed into full-blown empowerment.
Wait.Wasn’t it Gabriel’s box?
William shoved the thought aside. They’d probably just picked the same one. The odds weren’t that slim—William doubted they had hundreds of shampoos to select from.
“William,” Adathan said timidly.
“Yeah?”
“You know what would make me happy?”
William perked up. “What?”
Adathan didn’t immediately reply. His breath tickled William’s neck, his fingers still tracing soft circles against William’s side as he seemed to be working up the courage to voice his thoughts.
William wrapped one arm around him and squeezed gently—a silent promise he wouldn’t react badly. Adathan was brave for opening up. William couldn’t risk discouraging him from being honest.
“Making you feel good,” Adathan murmured.
William’s heart jumped into his throat. “Making me . . . feel good?”
“Yes,” Adathan said, moving his hand from William’s side to his hip. “I want to make you feel good.”
“How?” William asked stupidly. It was official—he was a moron. Or maybe he was just so desperate for it to be a misunderstanding. Maybe it was. There were multiple ways to make people feel good that involved nothing sexual.
William tensed as he caught a glimpse of two lionscopulatingon the wide screen. This was a nightmare. It couldn’t be real. He’d wake up soon and realize none of this had happened.
“...a lion pair mates every fifteen to thirty minutes, totaling up to fifty copulations per twenty-four hours...”
“William,” Adathan murmured as he rested his hand on his thigh.
Fuck.
“...due to low fertility rates, lions sometimes mate thousands of times to have a cub...”
William stared, horrified, as Adathan’s hand traveled in a dangerous direction.
“I want to pleasure you.”
William snatched Adathan’s wrist. “No.”
Adathan flinched and pulled back, curling in on himself as if expecting a blow.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” William said, letting go of Adathan’s wrist. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not gonna hurt you, I swear!”
His words appeared to have no calming effect whatsoever on Adathan. If anything, they only made him retreat further within himself.
