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I propped my laptop open beside me, and found a video with my favorite gay porn star (the one with the glasses),
My skin prickled. It felt weirdly like I was being unfaithful to Thor, jacking off with some other dude’s dick on my screen.
During a lull in the conversation, he caught my eye and missed his mouth with his fork, stabbing himself. “Ow,” he said softly, blushing. Yes. I loved him.
He looked enchanting. I told him that, just to make him blush.
my throat a bit sore from all the hollering I’d been doing a few hours prior.
Yes, there was something round and spiky on the pillow. It was definitely alive, and it wasn’t a sea urchin. It was a hedgehog. What.
“Look at you.” I knew how much it weighed on him that he didn’t have a fauna like the rest of his family. And, given the timing, I felt comfortable taking a little bit of credit that I helped him find this power inside himself.
I didn’t know how much human awareness remained when he was in this form, and I planned to take full advantage and get some cute pics to embarrass him with later. Serves him right.
I filled my camera roll with stupidly cute hedgehog pics. My favorite by far was one where I put Thor in a mug and pretended to take a sip for a selfie. His little face looked so grouchy in the picture that I immediately made it the lock screen background on my phone.
In answer to his look, I yanked my t-shirt collar to expose the wound he’d left on my neck. “Am I dying?” Thor clucked, looking at the bite. “Don’t be so dramatic.” “That’s rich, coming from the guy who spent forty-eight hours as a hedgehog because he was a little embarrassed.” “Fair enough,”
Cas stood in the kitchen, openly scowling, and he didn’t even offer to make Rafe a sandwich, which was the Cassian Rhodes equivalent of taking off his glove and smacking Rafe in the face with it.
When I looked at him, I got warm all over. His hair was rumpled from sleep, his glasses slightly askew, and he wore one of my flannel button-ups. I smiled. This was one of his favorite things to do, now.
“Still though. This is where I cook. The food. That we eat.” “I know,” he said, scooting forward to kiss my neck, correctly assuming that licking the bite he’d left there would crumble my resolve. “You eat my ass, too, though.”
Lucy handed me a steaming mug and my throat tightened even further. It was the same mug I’d put Hedgehog Thor in to take the picture of the two of us. My eyes burned and I rubbed them angrily with the heels of my hands.
He rested his head on my shoulder, linking our arms and pulling me along. It was clearly a romantic gesture, and I would have dipped him and kissed him hot and sloppy like that famous photo from V-J Day, but he was wearing the damn veil and I didn’t want to slobber all over it. Except, I did. I did want to slobber all over it. I wanted Thor, wearing nothing but the veil, splayed out naked on our bed. I took a deep breath, trying to will my body to calm down, and for my brain to stop coming up with all those unhelpful images.
That fucking suit was going to be the death of me. Hell. I had a brief moment of short-circuiting, trying to decide if Thor was prettiest in the suit, in my huge clothes, or entirely bare.
Cas pulled a book out, pretending to leaf through the pages. “Is there any part of the Dewey Decimal System that gets you hot?”
I was already in danger of bursting the zipper of my slacks.
His hand was small and warm. I had no idea how this beguiling, demure man could transform into such an aggressive sex demon. Truly, it felt as though that side of Thor belonged only to me. “What?”
It was like he was trapped in a state of shifting between man and wolf, and the result was horrifying.
“Will you just get in here?” I asked him, remembering the morning all those months ago when he’d essentially sassed me into bed with him.
“I never pegged you for such a bossy bottom,” he said, nipping the corner of my jawbone. With a growl of frustration, I rammed my ass back against his groin and said, “You’re not pegging me at all, right now.”
and there was something so filthy about lying here in an open-backed hospital gown, a garment, really, tailor-made for me to be fucked in.
“Trust me.” And of course, I did. But that didn’t mean I was going to be patient.
