"I see you, Cody," I tell him. "You. Not the boy in the hospital. Not the pilot in the cockpit. You. Cody. The man who gives me architecture books and makes me laugh and calls me mate just to watch my scales flush."
Something shifts behind his eyes. The uncertainty doesn't vanish, but it loosens. Like a knot worked free by patient hands.
He leans forward and presses his forehead to mine. His breath is warm against my lips. "I see you too," he says. "I've always seen you."
This time when I kiss him, he does not hesitate.
His hands come up to cradle my face, and there is nothing tentative about the way he holds me now. The kiss deepens, and we sink down onto the bedroll together. The stars wheel overhead, and the desert night wraps around us, and the coolness of the air is a counterpoint to the heat of his skin against mine.
I trace the scar through his eyebrow with my fingertip, the way I did the first time. He closes his eyes and exhales, and I feel the last of his tension leave his body beneath my hands.
His eyes open. Blue and steady and present.
He presses his lips to my throat, then my collarbone, then the center of my chest where my heart beats closest to the surface. Each kiss is slow and deliberate, as if every part of me is worth his full attention.
I arch into him and feel the full length of his body against mine, and a sound escapes me that I do not try to contain. There is no audience on this rooftop. No walls to muffle what passes between us. Only the open sky, and the stars, and the vast quiet of the desert.
His hands move over me. He finds the places he already knows, the sensitive ridge along my hip, the spot beneath my ear that makes my breath stutter, and he lingers at each one.
I pull him closer and wrap myself around him, and the sound he makes against my throat is low and undone. He is shaking. I hold him tighter, trying to anchor him to my body, and the shaking subsides.
Then I roll him onto his back.
He goes willingly, though surprise flickers across his face. "A'Vanti?—"
"Quiet. It's my turn to take care of you." I settle over him, pressing my palms flat against his chest. His heart is still hammering beneath my hands. "I consulted the human mating manual. It was very specific about this part."
A sound escapes him that is half laugh, half something more ragged. "You're funny."
"Ineverjoke about research. It was very educational." He huffs another laugh but raises his hands in surrender.
I hold his gaze as I find the zipper of his flight suit and pull it down. The fabric parts beneath my fingers, and Cody watches me with an expression caught between amusement and something far less composed.
I push the flight suit open and slide my hands beneath his undershirt, easing it up over the flat plane of his stomach. Hisskin is warm and taut, and I feel the muscles tense beneath my palms, then relax as I lower my mouth to the skin just above his navel.
I kiss my way down. Slowly. I have all the time in the world, and I intend to use it. Below his navel, the skin is pale and soft. I follow the groove of muscle that cuts over his hip, pressing my lips along the line of it, and his hips shift beneath me.
I am grateful, in this moment, that I never had my fangs restored. I get to know what it felt like to use my mouth for pleasure instead of defense. To press my lips against someone's skin without the risk of harm.
When I get to his member, I take a moment to admire it in the moonlight. I run my nose up his length, inhaling his scent. I breathe him in. His scent is concentrated here, salt and musk and warm skin, and I let it fill my lungs. My Cody.
When I take him into my mouth, the sound he makes is low and broken and entirely mine.
His thighs tense beneath my hands. His hips lift once, involuntarily, before he catches himself and drops back to the bedroll with a muttered apology that I ignore. I explore him with slow, deliberate attention, learning the weight and texture of him against my tongue, finding the rhythm that makes his breathing fracture. When I take him deeper, his hand finds my hair, not guiding, just holding on, and his fingers tremble against my scalp.
"A'Va— A'Vanti," Cody chokes out my name. As I reach the tip, I look up at Cody, wanting to see the look on his face. I am not disappointed.
A spiral of heat and pleasure tightens my belly as I begin suck, bobbing my head slowly up and down his cock. Feeling more confident, I try to take him deeper
"Oh my g— A'Vanti," Cody gasps. "Wait.Wait… I'm going to…"
I do not want to stop. I hiss my displeasure against him, and the vibration makes his whole body jolt.
"I want us together," he manages, and the desperation in his voice is the only argument that could persuade me. He reaches for me, hands sliding beneath my arms, and pulls me up his body until we are face to face. His eyes are dark and dazed, his chest heaving, and I have never seen anything more satisfying than the expression on his face.
"My turn," he says, and rolls us so that I am beneath him.
He does not waste time. He strips the remaining clothing from my body with efficient, steady hands, pressing his mouth to each new expanse of skin as it's revealed. He kisses my stomach, the curve of my waist, the crease of my hip. Then he settles between my thighs and lowers his head, and the first press of his tongue draws a sound from me that I could not have contained if I wanted to.
