The thought made me shiver with desire as I straddled his waist. He wasn’t wearing his onesie, just a soft sweater, so I could feel his body so much better this time. Lean and lanky, but with some slight give beneath my ass from his belly. God, I wanted to see Greid naked. I remembered spotting that line of green under his navel, like the demiurgus version of a happy trail. I wanted to press kisses all over his slightly rounded stomach and nuzzle my way down that little line—

My own gut rumbled loudly, making us both freeze with our mouths still locked together. I chuckled against Greid’s lips before pulling back as he blinked dazedly.

“Food,” he blurted, face spikes twitching. “Right. Sorry. Your burrito’s getting cold.”

I shifted off him and watched as he sat up, plucking at the front of his sweater—I was guessing to make sure it covered his groin—as he cleared his throat self-consciously. He reached for the coffee table and handed me my foil-wrapped burrito, then picked his up and stuffed a huge bite in his mouth.

“What are you doing today?” I asked as I unwrapped my food.

He grunted and swallowed his mouthful. Sometimes I swore he didn’t even chew. “Got an order I need to ship out by the end of the week, so I really have to get it finished. It’s a big one.”

“What is it?” I asked with interest. I loved going up to Greid’s workshop and looking at what he was working on. Each piece was unique and stunningly beautiful.

“This, like…” He waved a hand around his face. “Headpiece thing. For a client whose lifemate is some hotshot politician dude. She said they have a high-profile fundraiser thing to attend next weekend.”

I perked up, swallowing my bite of burrito. “Does that mean there’ll be paparazzi there taking pictures? Will your jewellery be in the news?”

He huffed. “I mean, it’ll be on her person, sure.”

“But don’t they always ask people ‘who they’re wearing’ at events like that?” I knew that much from the few gossip magazines I’d managed to sneak into my room at the compound. “They always say which designers and stuff they’re wearing.”

“I guess.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I dunno. I don’t like thinking about it.”

I laughed, shifting my leg to nudge his thigh with my toe. “Well, I’m gonna trawl through boring socialite news sites for any pics. I’ll recognise your work straight away.”

He cringed, reaching for his coffee cup. “The thought of being perceived in any way makes me super nervous.”

I softened, rubbing my foot over his thigh and hearing his breath catch. “Well, I don’t have to tell you if I find any photos. But I want to see. You should be proud of yourself, Greid. I’m proud of you.”

He ducked his head, ear fluttering wildly against his loose hair as he mumbled, “Thanks.”

He set down his coffee cup after taking a big gulp, then passed me mine. “What about you? What’re you doing today, I mean?”

Reading all about sexual submissives so I can hopefully make you lose your mind. “Not much. Just gonna veg out and watch TV.”

He groaned, stuffing the last of his burrito in his mouth. “Jealous.”

“Want me to come keep you company in the workshop?”

“No, it’s okay.” He smiled at me. “You stay down here and chill out. When are you next working?”

“Tomorrow. Brunch shift.” Full, I passed Greid the rest of my burrito and stretched lazily. “Can’t wait to spend all day doing nothing today.”

“That is the dream,” he agreed, fiddling with the foil around my half-eaten burrito. “Are you sure you’ve had enough?”

“Yep, you go ahead.”

“Guess I better go start work,” he said glumly, reaching for his coffee to gulp down the rest.

“Why don’t we watch a movie tonight?” And maybe I could give him a sneaky handjob under the blankets if he was interested.

A long, slow one, backing off every time he got close to coming. Telling him quietly to keep watching TV, to act like it wasn’t happening, so I could watch him desperately try to concentrate while I stroked his big dick out of sight.

My belly clenched with lust as Greid’s yellow eyes brightened. “Yeah, okay. There’s a new zombie one out that looks really good. You know, good in a bad way.”

I chuckled. “Sounds fun.”

He fidgeted beside me, still clutching the half-eaten burrito. His eyes darted down to my mouth then away. “Okay, well, um…”

I could tell he wanted to kiss me again. I wanted to kiss him too. But apparently his earlier moment of bravery had fled.

Or maybe it wasn’t about bravery. Maybe he just wanted me to take the lead. I already knew I preferred being in control during sex, but I hadn’t actually had enough sex to really explore my sexuality and what truly made me tick. My brief moments with Greid had already begun to teach me things about myself that I was desperate to explore.

I’d been feeling more like myself since starting my job at the bar. Like I was finally forging a life for myself out here, discovering facets of my personality that had never had the room or motivation to blossom in the cult. Ron had said the other day that he liked working shifts with me, because I was calm and capable, and he enjoyed watching me subtly put drunk assholes in their place when they got too leery.

I’d realised I was a lot friendlier than I’d thought I was at the compound. I often ended up chatting with other customers while we waited for our drinks at Deep Brew. Last week, I’d seen the demiurgus who’d been arguing on the phone with her ex-lifemate during my first visit to the coffee shop. She’d recognised me too, and we’d ended up stopping at one of the little tables outside for a while, with her telling me more about the fraught dissolution of her matehood to Gorig. She was called Corva. She was a successful event planner who’d recently moved to the Cimmerian District after leaving the nesthouse she and Gorig had shared in a busier part of the city. She was awesome.

There were the silly little things too, like my love of coffee and corny TV shows and the sense of satisfaction from stepping out of the bar after a long, tiring shift. Walking down the bustling street, passing other people just living their lives, pausing to look in shop windows at things that caught my eye. The knowledge that I could do anything, buy anything, go wherever I wanted.

How I actually was a touchy-feely person, at least when it came to Greid, always wanting to sit close to him on the couch or lean my shoulder against his arm while we watched TV, even before things had progressed between us.

I blinked when I realised he’d heaved himself up off the couch and was shuffling to the door. “See you later.”

My legs twitched with the urge to get up and grab him for a kiss before he left, but I stayed where I was as I gave him a cheerful goodbye. There’d be plenty of time for kissing later, and I didn’t want to risk getting into something before I knew more about what made him tick.

I wanted to wipe away all those fears and insecurities he had about his submissive nature. I wanted to go into any sexual situation that transpired between us fully prepared and ready to give him what he’d always craved—and what he’d previously been made to feel ashamed for.

Fuck his ex, I thought viciously, watching him leave the room and vanish. For the dozenth time, I tried to picture the mysterious Agma. In my mind, I imagined a tall, leggy demiurgus with a waterfall of silky black hair that probably had some stunningly beautiful jewel sheen to it. Sultry yellow eyes framed with thick black lashes. Sharp, gleaming white teeth inside a perfectly pouty mouth.

I shook the thoughts away quickly. I was not going to fall into the mindset of comparing myself bitterly to other women, human or demiurgus. Agma wasn’t a threat or a villain. She was just a person who happened to have been with Greid in the past. Sure, from what he’d told me about her, she sounded closed-minded and a little cruel, but I didn’t know enough about demiurgus dynamics, either sexual or romantic, to form a proper opinion.