I made a move to get up. “Let me just—”

“Greid. Stop worrying.” She hooked a leg over mine to prevent me from moving, then grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the couch cushions.

And that was it. My mind went blissfully blank. I shivered, sinking back down and sighing as my body went loose.

Beryl kissed the corner of my mouth, nuzzling me there as she grinned and murmured, “Good boy,” before crushing our lips together.

Oh my god, was she trying to make me come? My dick throbbed uncontrollably from her words, and I let out a humiliatingly plaintive moan into her mouth.

Call me a good boy again. Call me your little slut and tie me up and do whatever you want to me.

My eyes popped open in alarm. Okay, maybe I was getting… a little too worked up. Beryl had said she liked that I was submissive, but that didn’t mean she’d be into… anything else. All the stuff I fantasised about. All the stuff I craved and had never gotten to experience.

Shit, what if she was into it? She was still pinning my wrist down, making my cock leak all over my stomach. I felt overly heavy, my limbs sluggish. When she released my wrist to slide her hand over my chest, I didn’t move my arm because she hadn’t told me I could.

My legs spasmed when her hand trailed down and rubbed over the head of my cock, cupping it through thick fabric. Worry made my pulse jump, but she didn’t indicate that she could feel any barbs through the onesie as her fingers moved lower, mapping out the column of my dick.

Oh my god, Beryl’s touching my dick.

My breaths were trembling out of me, mingling with hers as we kissed feverishly. Maybe this could work. Maybe when she wanted to make me come, she could just jerk me off through the onesie. I basically lived in it anyway. Right now, the barbs on my cock were small—they felt more like a rough, pleasurable abrasion over my palm when I jacked off—so they didn’t pierce through the thick fabric and hurt her palm.

If I had a spontaneous orgasm, however…

“I want to touch your cock,” Beryl murmured, lifting her head to gaze down at me through lust-hazy eyes.

“Nnngh.” I swallowed thickly, pretending I couldn’t see my dick bucking urgently under the onesie as it cast its enthusiastic vote in the matter. “I—um…”

I didn’t think I had the brain power to explain things right now. I couldn’t just pull my cock out and present it to her. I’d seen those creepy drawings and etchings at the cult’s compound—the ones of a demiurgus standing proudly with a small, smooth dick. A very incorrect dick. If Beryl thought that was what mine looked like, she might be horrified by the reality.

Maybe sensing my sudden spike in anxiety, Beryl gave me an easy smile and slid her hand off my dick to stroke my side.

“Maybe later, huh? Or if and when you want me to.” Settling her head on my chest, she sighed and shifted closer. “You’re so comfy. Even with a giant boner digging into my arm.”

That made me snort out a slightly hysterical laugh, but it also succeeded in relaxing my tense muscles. Hesitantly, I lifted a hand and threaded my fingers through her curls. She immediately grunted and pushed her head into the touch.

“Can you use your claws? I’ve always thought they’d feel good.”

Almost swallowing my tongue, I gently raked my claws over her scalp. Beryl practically purred, sinking deeper into my side.

God, yes. This was sooo much better than shade. But it would be even better with shade, so I stretched out my arm to fumble with my smoking tin on the coffee table. “You mind if I smoke?”

She snorted. “Already? No, go ahead.”

“Just gonna have one.” Fishing out a joint, I stuck it between my lips and carefully lit a match, making sure to avoid Beryl’s hair. At my first deep drag, I melted into the couch.

Grabbing the remote, I fired up Gloom Falls. We watched TV for a while, my eyes getting heavy and all my limbs turning into overcooked noodles. I finished my joint and stubbed it out in the ashtray as my gaze snagged on the remnants of the snacks we’d eaten late last night. Stretching my arm out yet again, I grabbed a handful of chips and stuffed them into my mouth.

“Fuck, this is the best,” I mumbled, abandoning Beryl’s hair to squeeze her tighter to me. She felt so small and delicate against me, but my shade-loose brain started to imagine her pinning me down and overpowering me. Bossing me around. Maybe ordering me to get on my knees and—

“I don’t want to move, but the cramps are getting worse.” Beryl shifted up onto one arm with a grimace. “I’m gonna go take a bath.”

“Oh, okay.” I sat up in a rush and almost headbutted her. Before I could stammer out an apology, Beryl laughed and cupped my face, pressing a sweet kiss to my mouth. My ears went wild.

“Then I’ll go get our coffee,” she added. Unable to resist, hoping it was okay, I kissed her cheek before shaking my head.

“I’ll go. I’ll get us breakfast as well.” Standing up from the couch and stretching, I asked, “Breakfast burritos, right?”

“Huh?”

I turned to see Beryl giving me a confused frown, and suddenly remembered that we hadn’t actually discussed breakfast burritos at any point. Clearing my throat, I said, “Uh, I mean, do you want a breakfast burrito?”

“Sure.” She shrugged as she stood up. “You obviously have them on the brain.”

“Well, I mean… they’re really good,” I mumbled, picking up the remote to turn off the TV.

As Beryl padded out of the living room, I went around and blew out all the candles that had survived through the night. Most were puddles of hardened wax now, adding a new layer to the ones already stuck to the surfaces, but luckily I had about fifty boxes of scented candles in my Room of Shame.

After getting dressed, I shoved on my boots and coat and left the house. I realised I was grinning like a fool as I strode down the street when one of my neighbours walked past and did a double-take, but for once, I didn’t feel self-conscious. I was in too good of a mood. I was in a fucking amazing mood.

When the overly friendly barista at Deep Brew asked how my morning was going after taking my order, I barely managed to stop myself from blurting out, Beryl kissed me! Beryl said she likes me as more than a friend! I had an orgasm last night! WITH BERYL.

Instead, I told him I was fine and shuffled off to wait for our drinks. After fidgeting restlessly with my hands in my coat pockets for a minute, I couldn’t help but yank out my phone and open my texts with Beryl.

Want a blood tart? I sent her, mouth twitching. About five seconds later, she sent back an emoji of the green face about to throw up.

How about something else? I texted back. A pastry? Cinnamon bun?

I thought we were getting breakfast burritos, she replied.

Oh, shit, yeah. My stomach rumbled at the reminder. I probably should’ve got those first.

These would just be breakfast accoutrements, I said. Or dessert.

Beryl replied, Most people do not have dessert at breakfast, Greid.

Before I could think of a response, another text came through.

GREEDY BOY.

My face prickled as I stared down at the words, heat rushing over my skin. If she called me that while we were… doing stuff, I might shoot myself into the stratosphere from the force of my orgasm.

“Greedy,” a voice said in front of me. I almost dropped my phone as my head snapped up.

I stared in alarm at the barista on the other side of the counter, stuffing my phone guiltily into my pocket. “What?”

He gave me an odd look. “I said Greid. Order for Greid.”

“Oh.” Letting out a squawk of awkward laughter, I reached for the two takeout cups. “That’s me. Greid. I’m Greid. It’s, uh, it’s just Greid.”

He eyed me again. “I know, dude. That’s what I said.”