Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire, #1)(41)

“But if it makes you sad, why would you want to think about it?”

I could tell he genuinely struggled with the concept. It struck me that I’d been wrong when I’d told Clay he had an optimistic view of the world—no one could ever beat Aiden’s positivity and enthusiasm. He was upbeat to the point of dismissing any unpleasant aspects of his life. Although from what I’d ascertained, it was generally a relatively common trait among the fae.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“Can I try something?” he asked, no doubt trying to change the subject.

“Sure . . .” I said, a little uncertainly.

In the next instant, he quickly pressed his lips against mine. Almost the moment our mouths met, he’d pulled away.

“What was that for?” I asked, unable to hide my shock at the action.

He shrugged. “I’ve spent a good portion of the day wondering exactly what it would feel like to kiss you.”

“And?” I asked, still a little bewildered.

The corners of his mouth lifted into a small grin. “It was quite pleasant. In fact, I’d go so far to say it was very agreeable.”

I thought about his choice of words and found I couldn’t disagree. It wasn’t at all like the kisses I’d shared with Clay—all heat and fire and passion—but neither was it entirely unwelcome. After giving away my virginity, just to face rejection, it was almost helpful to my sanity to have someone, especially someone as attractive as Aiden, show some interest in me.

A knot in my stomach warned me that it wasn’t what I wanted, that Aiden wasn’t who I wanted, but I disregarded it. He’d saved my life and seemed genuinely pleased by what I was. He didn’t want to kill me, and he hadn’t called me a freak. For all of those benefits couldn’t I at least try to overlook the fact that his hands were too smooth as they caressed my face and that his lips were thinner and softer than the ones I longed for?

Don’t I owe it to myself to try to be happy? It was what Dad would want for me

Staring at Aiden, I swallowed down the twisting in my stomach. I focused instead on my desire for acceptance and love as I said, “Well if you want to do it again, it’s okay by me.”

His face lit up like a beacon as he leaned down to claim my lips once more. As he kissed my mouth—sweet, light kisses at first but quickly evolving into need-filled caresses—I was once again reminded of how different things had once been with Clay.

Closing my eyes to relive the lingering caresses we’d shared in the warehouse before his family had returned, I could almost imagine that Clay was right in front of me. That it was his tongue seeking entrance to my mouth.

If I closed my eyes and ignored the pungent floral scent, I could almost believe it. For a brief shining moment, I was back in the warehouse—back by his side.

Reaching out, I clung to strong arms and pressed my body against a firm chest. Together with Clay, at least in my mind, I was in heaven.

An hour later, I was staring at the ceiling wishing my lust-filled visions were real. Hoping against hope that when I glanced down at the warm body curled tightly around mine, it would be Clay, and not Aiden, sharing my bed. Slowly, Aiden’s wings wrapped around us both like a blanket, holding me against him in a warm cocoon, and the image of being held in a lover’s embrace by Clay instantly faded.

As the moment passed and reality slipped in, the realization that Clay was still out of reach settled heavily on me. I didn’t even know where in the world he might be and had no idea how to start searching for him. He was lost to me, and I didn’t see any way of getting back to him. I wanted to insist that Aiden leave because the realization brought with it a fresh round of sorrow, and I just wanted to wallow in it.

Aiden hummed softly and offered me a grin as he kissed my collarbone, drawing my attention back to him. “That was new,” he said. “The heat was just . . . unbelievable!”

“For me too.” I tried to hide my melancholy when I spoke, my mood wasn’t Aiden’s doing, and I didn’t want to inflict it on him. I couldn’t admit to him that I’d only ever been with one other person, and that experience was what had led me to the desolate state Aiden had found me in.

“I believe this would be an opportune time to inform you that contrary to how it may appear right now, I do not bed everyone that I find on the streets of New York.”

“Just the unique ones?” I asked, trying to shake the melancholy that had settled over me and find the fun I’d been having earlier in the evening again.

“Just the pretty ones,” he laughed. Then he pulled away, his features set into a solemn expression. “I do have to talk to you about something serious for a moment though.”

I pushed up onto my elbows, based on everything I’d experienced in my two weeks at the court, Aiden and serious weren’t really compatible concepts.

“We fae view relationships a little differently than other species may. What I mean to say is that we’re not exactly known for our monogamy. Generally, when two fae make the agreement to be together, it’s not about exclusivity or commitment. Unlike human mating, there is no risk of disease for us, and with two fae there is no reproduction without conscious choice and mutual agreement by both parties. Unless there is an extraordinary union, the sort that only happens to one in one-thousand fae couples, a relationship is generally not sufficient reason to abstain when we desire a little extra fun.”