that makes my heart hurt. Back on the island, his kisses made me utterly giddy. I couldn't get enough of them, and his mouth felt like perfection against mine despite the fact that he was unpracticed. That didn't matter. All that mattered was tasting him, feeling the slick of his tongue against mine. Tonight, though, it just feels…vaguely off. I want to feel so much more, but the longer he kisses me, the more I just want it done.
I hate this. Not his kisses—I want to love those again—but feeling like this and knowing it's not the truth. I know I'd love T'chai's kisses if my cootie wasn't being such a dick.
He pulls back and for a moment, I worry he's sensing my lack of enthusiasm. But he only tilts his head and grins at me in that endearing way of his. "You taste strange."
Ay dios. I put my hand to my mouth, thinking of all those nasty herbs I ate earlier that I'm pretty sure didn't do a thing for me. I don't feel any different…except apparently I changed my taste. "Do I?" I cast around for a decent lie, because I don't want to confess and hurt his feelings. "My stomach was upset after dinner so I ate a few tea leaves to try and settle it."
Immediately, his look changes to one of concern. He pulls me into his lap and holds me close, stroking my back. "You feel unwell?"
It's moments like this—when he's so caring and achingly sweet—that I feel like the worst mate possible. "I'm fine," I whisper. "I promise. Don't worry about it."
He leans in and watches my face for a long moment, studying me, and then gives me the tiniest of kisses. Just a little nip on the lower lip, and I have to admit, I like it. He gives me another, and another, as if testing to see if my stomach's going to revolt again, and all the while, his hands move up and down my spine.
This? I can do this. I ignore the twinges of dislike that I feel when the kiss deepens, or when his hand slides under my tunic and cups my breast. I do like this. I do. I want to feel so much more when he rubs his thumb over my nipple, but it doesn't respond. It doesn't tighten against his teasing touch, and I don't feel my body responding, either.
A quiet sense of despair begins to rise.
If T'chai's cootie is giving him the same WRONG WRONG WRONG vibes mine is, he doesn't show it. I can feel his erection, thick and prominent, pressing against my thigh. His mouth is eager, and his hand moves down into my leggings, pushing between my thighs.
And then he pauses.
T'chai pulls back. "You are not wet?"
I lick my lips, feeling like the worst woman ever. "I…"
He pulls his hand away, the flash of hurt and betrayal on his face wounding me. "My kisses do not make you wet anymore, Mari? Do I do something that you do not like?"
"It's not you," I manage, sliding off his lap and escaping. I get to my feet and begin to pace the floor, frustrated. "I want to be so into this. I do. Not even Farli's herbs did anything. It's like my body's not paying attention at all!"
"Herbs?" he asks quietly.
Shit. I didn't want to mention them. "You know my cootie doesn't seem to like yours anymore." I feel like a dumbass for stating the obvious, and gesture at him. "I wanted to try some herbs that some of the older women use when they can't get…lubricated any longer. Sometimes it happens when you get older—"
"But you are not older," he says stiffly. "The healer has robbed us of this."
I shake my head. "It's me. I robbed us of this. It was my decision."
He's silent for a long moment. "Am I a bad mate to you, my Mari? Is it because I have not hummed against your clit?"
Of all the things I expected to hear from him, that wasn't it. I sputter for a moment. "Hummed against my…what?"
"Your clit," he says patiently, as if I have never heard of it before. "I have not hummed against it and S'bren says that is a problem." His expression turns bitter. "Everyone has advice on what I am doing wrong, it seems."
And that's worse than anything. Because he thinks he's the problem. I drop down next to him again and take his hands in mine. "You know it's