#ignore the fact that legs looks like a pathetic frog. its fine

[thalia-amongst-the-thorns]

Dinner and a Show

Thought I’d post something I wrote recent-ish, a continuation with my characters Indigo the incubus and Rosemary the hedgewitch who I wrote about a long time ago here!

Warning that it gets very explicit, so brace yourself...

                                                      _________

Something was off about Indigo. Rosemary couldn’t put her finger on what it was exactly,  but a cloud of oddness had hung around him all day regardless. Maybe it was because he hadn’t put up a fuss when Poppy had picked a truly sappy rom-com for tonight’s dinner-and-a-show (under the pretense of torturing Rosemary with boredom, Poppy would never admit to actually having something so icky as feelings). Or maybe because he hadn’t said much of anything the whole day, not even a peep when Rosemary asked him to tag along into town to help make home deliveries and the Widow Powell (16 ounces Drought of Peace, 8 ounces Cheer and Charm weekly) had made eyes at him like a woman half her age and with her original hips intact. 

Of course, the ultimate tell something was wrong was when Poppy actually noticed something beyond her phone screen.

“I liked his look this morning better.”

Rosemary frowned, running a dish towel over a worn mug in the shape of a smiling frog. “Whose look?”

Somehow Poppy managed to make blowing her bangs out of her eyes into an irritated gesture. She jerked one thumb back towards the living room where Indigo was cleaning up the remains of their Thai takeout, her other hand never skipping a beat as it tip-tapped on her phone, her hip resting against the kitchen counter because of course standing up straight was just too much effort.

“Indigo?” Rosemary put the mug down pointedly with more force than probably necessary. Dish duty was supposed to be a two person task. At least, it used to be. “Looks the same to me. Good thing too, it took him forever to settle on a permanent human form.” 

Bang blow paired with an eye roll. “Nuh-huh. His hair is shorter now. And his chin’s wider. Kinda like an Indian Rami Malek.”

Really? Rosemary quickly glanced through the door but Indigo’s back was to them, his dark hair up in a messy bun. She shook her head and plunged her hands back into the sudsy dish water, annoyed at herself for letting her sister get under her skin.

“Now you’re just making stuff up.”

���You didn’t even look at him!” Poppy actually glanced up from her screen, wiggling her eyebrows in a suggestive manner that was not at all appropriate for someone her age. “Come on, I know you want to.”

“Poppy!” 

“What? It’s not my fault you’ve got a stick so far up your ass you can’t see--!”

“Poppy!” Rosemary’s face burned so hot she was surprised the water didn’t evaporate at her touch. “Watch your tongue girl, you do not get to talk to me like that under my roof!”

The old cold look settled over Poppy’s face and she straightened to her full height, glowering down, hands clenched into trembling fists at her sides. Rosemary met her glare head on, face hot and dangerous. She’d been on the receiving end of many (really, most) of Poppy’s Looks and was no slouch herself. For generations the Baxter women had always had just one of those faces that made grown men worship them as goddesses or run for the hills. The two sisters took after the latter.

Poppy’s left eye twitched. She always broke first.

“Fine. Whatever.” She stomped to the backdoor, voice dripping with sarcasm as she yanked it open. 

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Out.” Nose wrinkling, Poppy shot Rosemary a withering look over her shoulder. “Preferably somewhere where people are mature enough to get off their high horse and fuck when they want to.”

Rosemary barely registered the door slamming behind her sister, the blood was pounding so loudly in her ears it hurt. She wanted to scream. Smash all the pathetic little knick-knacks on the drying board into powder. Mix up a boiling cauldron of Elixir of Blood Rot and flood the streets.

Instead, she breathed steadily through her nose and finished washing and drying dishes.

The flush would fade from her cheeks only to return stronger as she replayed Poppy’s infuriatingly knowing look, her words that cut deep like only a sister’s could. Damn that girl. She was goddamn sixteen and had no business saying things like that to her. Especially about Indigo. It wasn’t Rosemary’s fault the demon was living with them, it wasn’t even Indigo’s fault really (not that she’d admit it to him). Just yet another one of Poppy’s messes for her to clean up after.

“So…”

Rosemary flinched so badly she almost dropped the last plate in her hands. Indigo leaned against the doorframe behind her, the living room spotless behind him.

“Is this the kind of human thing where you want to talk about it, or should I just gracefully pretend I was momentarily deaf and did not hear charming Poppy cuss you out and storm off into the night?”

“I…” Rosemary hesitated, took her time putting the plate away. Why was she hesitating? You didn’t talk to demons about your feelings. Especially an incubus. That was just asking for all sorts of trouble. “The latter this time, I think.”

“Fair enough.” Something flickered behind his eyes, but before Rosemary could register what it was a smile was stretched across his lips. “You want to watch some Queer Eye? The next season just dropped and I hear the episode with the single dad with the figure skating daughter is super adorable.”

Again, she hesitated. The dinner-and-a-show Saturdays were more for Poppy’s sake, the facade of a family dinner without the family. Ignoring tonight’s explosive finish, usually the night ended with Poppy vanishing upstairs into the depths of her room while Rosemary checked on the potions that needed to stew overnight and wracked her brain over the store’s finances before passing out on top of her bedsheets fully clothed and Indigo planted himself on the couch for his usual twelve plus hours of media consumption. Demons didn’t need sleep and the bonding curse made it impossible for him to leave the house unless Rosemary did, but he didn’t usually ask her to stay up with him. She’d made it clear she had too much work, too much stress for such things.

Indigo wiggled his eyebrows, his voice dropping into mock-seductive tones. “Come on, you know you want to see Jonathan Van Ness in ice skates.”

Well, that did sound fun. And a good distraction from angry little sisters who didn’t know what they were talking about.

“Sure.” She grabbed a bag of the horrible pickle popcorn Indigo was so fond of from the back of the cabinet and tossed it into his eager hands. “Might as well cut loose, not like there are any orders to babysit tonight anyway.” 

Of course, no new orders was its own kind of problem, but it was best not to dwell on that now.

Despite herself, Rosemary couldn’t help casting a side glance at Indigo as she followed him back into the living room. He definitely looked the same from this morning. Perfect brown skin, long hooked nose in a long face. Perfect hair, long, dark and glossy, piled on his head in a tousled bun that somehow made him look relaxed instead of disheveled. Perfect teeth, perfectly fitted button down shirt and jeans on his perfect trim body. Perfectly perfect. It’s what incubus did best.

… It was possible that maybe he was a little shorter. But everyone was tall when it came to Rosemary so she hardly paid attention to that sort of thing. And with his hair up there was no way to know if that was different…

Damn it Poppy. What did it matter if Indigo had changed? At least he was still human shaped. He used to change all the time when he’d first been summoned, trying to suit the tastes of those around him. Men, women, tall, short, muscular, willowy and all variations between and beyond. It was only after Rosemary had lectured him about how she refused to let the neighbors believe she was running a harem out of her basement that Indigo had given in and settled on his current form for going about the town. It was only natural he’d keep wearing it in private, helped to maintain the charade of humanity just in case.

Indigo queued up the television, Queer Eye’s peppy intro music filling and numbing Rosemary’s head, and the two of them settled onto opposite sides of the couch. Indigo ripped open the popcorn bag and had already emptied half of it into his mouth within the first five minutes while Rosemary curled her legs up and balanced her chin on her knees, distracting herself with five fabulous men who changed lives and hearts in forty-five minutes of less.

… And yet she found her eyes wandering over to Indigo, who thankfully kept his own gaze glued to the screen. He seemed fine. In fact, he’d been remarkably well behaved for the past few weeks. Quieter, less prone to innuendo and suggestive talk with customers in the shop. No secret flirtations or temptations, no transforming into a demon from the depths of hell and consuming souls…

A thought niggled at the back of Rosemary’s mind. When was the last time she’d seen Indigo in his true form? She’d lectured him about it two, three weeks ago? When she’d caught him skulking with Poppy in her room playing video games with, well, everything hanging out (wings, tail, horns, the whole mess). He hadn’t actually been naked, thank god, but it still didn’t seem appropriate and some boundaries had to be maintained. Guess he’d taken it to heart.

Her mind tuned in and out of the show, her shoulders hunching and knees hugged closer to her chest, vaguely registering that Jonathan was sporting a cute stubble look this season. Antoni showed the hero of the episode how to make cinnamon apple pancakes to fill the riff between him and his daughter. Bobby refurbished the home with snowy throw pillows and decorative mason jars. People laughed and no one raised their voice. 

Something brushed the back of her neck and Rosemary squeaked in alarm, hand swatting out before she actually looked over to find Indigo now right next to her with a bemused expression verging on embarrassment. His hand hovered awkwardly just above her shoulder.

“Sorry”, he said, “should have asked first, you just looked so tense…”

The muscles in her neck practically screamed as Rosemary looked down at the curled pretzel her body had formed. Now that he’d said something about it she could feel the tightness in her upper back, the subtle pounding of her temples that had started when Poppy left and hadn’t let up. 

“I’m very good at back rubs,'' Indigo said shamelessly and Rosemary rolled her eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” she sighed, but shifted over slightly so that her back faced him. She didn’t know if it was true for all incubus, but Indigo had always been exceptionally touchy-feely from the start, and not just in a sexual sense. He always wanted to hold hands, run his fingers through your hair, rest his head on your shoulder. It probably wasn’t a good idea to encourage him, but, well, he just looked so miserable when you said no and Rosemary wasn’t heartless.

Large, warm hands worked at the knots in her shoulders, pressing at just the right points so that goosebumps swept down her arms. Instantly she felt the layers of tension melt away, her head hanging down loosely and eyelids drooping. Indigo worked his way up her back, delicately kneading the nape of her neck and running his fingers through her thick afro before tickling her scalp with his nails. Little tingles of pleasure spread through her at his touch, warm and fuzzy.

Damn, he was good.

The show’s closing credits started up in the background and abruptly Indigo’s hands were gone and she heard him shift over and stand. Warmth still lingered along her skin from his touch and Rosemary had to bite her tongue to stop an annoyed huff from escaping her lips.

“Do you want to watch the next episode,” Indigo asked over his shoulder, crouched by the television. Rosemary nodded, trying to put casual indifference into the gesture even as she hoped he’d pick up where he left off on her. He smiled and plopped down next to her, disturbing the cushions so that Rosemary unbalanced and awkwardly slid over into his side. As if it was the most natural thing in the world Indigo laughed and hooked his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in so that Rosemary’s cheek rested against the crook of his neck.

Well. This is what she got for encouraging him. Damn, touchy-feely incubus.

Nothing to do but ride it out. Rosemary sighed and moved her arm into a more comfortable position so that it draped over Indigo’s lap. At least Indigo was cozy, his body pleasantly toasty, a faint musky, spicy scent coming off his skin and hair.

They watched the next episode in comfortable silence. Absentmindedly, Indigo began running his fingers through her thick hair again, gently teasing out mauve kinks and knots. He brushed a few stray hairs out of her face, thumb ghosting her lips, and Rosemary flinched. She felt his body tense, hand instantly gone from her hair. 

“Sorry.���

“No”, she said too quickly and mentally kicked herself. “It’s fine. Just surprised me.”

His muscles relaxed again but he kept his hands to himself. Regret chased by confusion mixed around in the pit of Rosemary’s stomach.

The episode was almost over when he spoke up again.

“I’m sure she’s fine.”

Rosemary glanced at the small, inconspicuous pendant of carnelian and amethyst perched on the mantel. It hadn’t moved all evening.

“I know she is.”

“She means well.”

Rosemary laughed, a short, bitter sound. “Oh no, she does not. She’s at that rebellious teenage stage where she realizes that words hurt and she can use them too.”

She was so close to him that Rosemary could hear the contemplative hum at the back of Indigo’s throat.

“Maybe. But she’s also trying to be heard and doesn’t feel like you’re listening. The only time you do seem to listen is when she hurts you.”

“I really don’t want to talk about this with you,” Rosemary said curtly. It was bad enough failing at parenting without the demon telling her she was failing.

Her head bobbed up and down as Indigo’s shoulders shrugged under her. “Hey, I’m the one who can read emotions. Your loss if you don’t want to exploit that.”

“Please, there’s only one emotion you care about.”

Indigo grunted. “I care about plenty of things.”

“Me, myself, and I are all one thing Indie”, Rosemary teased, but Indigo didn’t laugh. She craned her head back so that she could look at him, the glow of the television casting the stubble on his face into shadow. “Indigo?”

“I care about making sure the shop stays open,” Indigo said slowly, eyes fixed ahead at the screen. “I care about Poppy and making sure she stays safe even if she doesn’t want to. I care about making you safe and happy.” An odd look passed over his face and his arm tightened around her so that Rosemary’s temple brushed against his rough chin.

All the blood in her body seemed to be traveling to her head very quickly and Rosemary blurted out the first thing that floated through the mess of her mind. “Since when did you have stubble?”

“Huh?” Indigo stroked his cheek, seemingly just as surprised as her. The odd look passed over his face but Rosemary caught it this time. Guilt.

Stubble. Rami Malek’s bone structure--

“You’re doing the thing!” Rosemary broke out of Indigo’s arms and jabbed an accusatory finger at his chest. 

“What ‘thing’?”

“The thing,” she cried. “Looking at my heart’s deepest desires and twisting them to tempt me into- into fucking my soul out so you can eat it! The thing you swore not to do ever no matter what!”

“I’m not trying to do it,” Indigo snapped back, surprising Rosemary with his fervor. Indigo had never yelled before. In fact, she’d never even seen him really upset before. Not like now; he sprung up from the couch and paced, actually pulling at his hair so that it came undone and hung down to his waist.

“I- I don’t think you understand just how confusing all of this is,” he continued. “I’m used to coming and going whenever I’m hungry. I don’t stick around, why would I want to, people are so boring when they’re not fucking, all that eating and sleeping and talking about nothing at all…” He waved his hands, taking in her and the whole house. “But then you came along and I had no choice but to stay and find out just how wrong I was about everything. And now I’m feeling all of these- these things that I’m not used to feeling and I don’t know what to do with them.” In an instant he bounded forward and grabbed Rosemary’s hands up in his own. “I-I want you to be happy but I don’t know how to do that.” Seamlessly his body seemed to melt and fade, shrinking and reforming into a dead ringer for Rami Melek, eyes wide and frenzied. 

Rosemary’s mouth popped open in surprise and Indigo-Rami frowned, eyes raking her up and down but not not finding what they were looking for. 

“No, no, no,” he mumbled, body once again melting, hips widening, breast swelling until a shapely woman with freckles along her nose and waves of auburn hair clutched at Rosemary’s hands. 

“No no no”, Indigo wailed again, the sound shaking Rosemary out of her stuper. 

“Indigo, stop,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm, reassuring, “please. I don’t want you to do this.”

“But you liked it.” Indigo glanced up at her through a curtain of hair, breaths short but steadier now. “You liked that form.”

“Yes”, Rosemary admitted, “I did. But you know how you want me to be happy? Well--” she swallowed, throat suddenly dry, “- I want you to be happy too. And right now I can tell that this is not making you happy.” She ran her thumbs over the back of Indigo’s now small, pale hands thoughtfully. “Indigo… what do you want to look like?”

Indigo blinked in confusion. “Whatever you want.”

“No, not like--!” Rosemary caught herself and took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “If you want to do that it’s fine Indigo, but I meant what form you would feel most comfortable in right now.”

His brow furrowed, and at first Rosemary worried that she still hadn’t gotten through to Indigo. Maybe she couldn’t; when your whole purpose was catering to others’ desires, it made sense that you’d lose track of your own. After a moment though his form shifted again, taller and taller until his head almost brushed the ceiling and a pair of horns curled up and out from his forehead. His chest flattened and broadened, the clothes melting into his body and his skin darkening into a soft purple that deepened at his elbows to a rich black at his now clawed hands. A tail extended from the base of his spine topped with a coil of dark hair and a pair of immature wings, spiny and batlike, burst from his back.

The incubus stared down at Rosemary with golden eyes, lips pulling back from tusked teeth in a small grin.

“Better?”

“Yeah”, Indigo murmured, his voice deeper in his demonic form. He ran his claws through his still long hair, felt his horns gingerly. “It’s been a while…”

Guilt twisted painfully in Rosemary’s gut. “I’m sorry Indigo, I shouldn’t have made you change what you looked like just so that I, god I don’t know anymore, felt more comfortable…” She trailed off lamely. It really felt like a dick move when she said it out loud. 

Indigo smirked, the expression somehow enhanced by his tusks. “Please, you didn’t make me do anything. I just thought you’d prefer something more human over this.” He gestured at his body, claws trancing down his chiseled torso. Really, it wasn’t Rosemary’s fault her eyes lingered on his abs. Given that he was at least a good two feet taller than her now she was either staring his abs or straining her neck again to see his face. Not that he’d notice her noticing. Hopefully.

Indigo’s head cocked curiously.

Oh no.

“What?” Was what Rosemary tried to say. What actually came out was a pathetic squeak.

Oh no.

In a surprisingly fluid movement Indigo knelt down so that they were at eye level. Rosemary sank deeper into the couch, casually meeting his golden eyes and determinedly  thinking pure thoughts. Ever so slowly, a leer spread across the incubus’s face.

“Do you see something you like,” he asked and Rosemary burned at the smug satisfaction in his voice.

“I-I-,” she stammered, her mouth, the traitor, going bone dry. 

“You said you wanted to make me happy too,” Indigo said slowly, weighing the words on his tongue. A smile, earnest and happy, broke over his face and something fluttered painfully inside Rosemary chest. “Well, I know what would make me very, very happy…”

“I bet you do”, Rosemary managed to mutter and Indigo chuckled. Even his breath smelled good in this form, the same pleasant warm musk of his skin…

“Only if you say you want it too,” he said.

Rosemary squirmed uncomfortably, tried to keep the accusation out of her voice. “How do I know it’s what I want? Can’t you just make me…?”

She was immensely thankful that Indigo didn’t look hurt at the question, instead growing sober, eyes intense. “No. I wouldn’t do that, and I couldn’t if I wanted to. The whole point of an incubus is to tempt, to dangle humans’ carnal desires right under their noses, but the human still has to make the decision to pursue it. Comes with the whole free will thing. The sin has to be freely chosen.” 

He ran a claw delicately down the center of Rosemary’s face, traced the curve of her nose and lips.

“And my-my soul,” Rosemary whispered once she’d found her train of thought again.

“I can feed off of other things,” Indigo said, eyes trailing over her body longingly and Rosemary shivered. “It’s been a while since I last had a meal though, so best to warn you that I’ll be very enthusiastic…”

Rosemary’s head was swimming, drowning in gold and desire. It had to be a trick, some incubus trap to leave her weak and vulnerable. But… even when Indigo wasn’t around her, when she was out of reach of his potential influence, she knew how she felt about him even if she hadn’t admitted it to herself. How she’d grown to enjoy his company, to depend on him, to trust him to watch over Poppy. And even if it was a trick, it was still her choice to make. 

So, what did she want?

“You better be hungry,” Rosemary said, leaning forward so there was barely an inch between their faces. “Because I am a dish.”

She cut off Indigo’s laugh with her lips, pressing her body against his. He tasted like heat and salt and surprisingly of cinnamon on the back of her tongue, his tusks tugging at her lips.

“And here I thought I was the eager one,” he murmured when at last they broke away.

“Try to keep up.”

Indigo’s eyes flashed, and a growl built in the depths of his chest. Rosemary swallowed. Oh dear. That might have been a bit more forward than she’d intended-- 

All at once Indigo had wrapped his large hands around her waist and picked her up, pressing her pelvis to his chest so Rosemary had no choice but to wrap her legs around his torso. Rosemary gasped. She was what she liked to call ‘solidly built’, with thick arms and legs and a stomach she preferred not to dwell on, but Indigo was able to hold her effortlessly while his mouth got to work on her neck, nibbling and moaning against her suddenly very sensitive skin.

Not be outdone she threw her hips back and down, rocking as best she could in Indigo’s firm grasp, grinding against his crotch. She could feel the length of him hardening under her and he paused in his ministrations to groan into her ear.

“Not yet.”

With ease he rolled down onto the ground so that she was pinned under him, his grinning face right above hers. There was a crash as the coffee table was unceremoniously kicked away to make room. God, she’d never really appreciated how damn big he was, his form filling her vision completely.

“Not till I’m done with you,” he growled and Rosemary whimpered, heart racing.

Claws, so gentle before, hooked under her shirt and ripped the offending fabric away, revealing the pale blue bra underneath. A blush rose in Rosemary’s cheeks. There was a lacey black bra with matching panties gathering dust somewhere in her dresser, something more appropriate. Indigo had probably fucked underwear models for God’s sake, what did she think she was doing--

Indigo leaned down and pressed his mouth to her breast and Rosemary gasped. His tongue (how had she never appreciated it before?) pressed against the flimsy material of her bra, tracing circles around her hardening nimple. She squirmed and he chuckled, nipping playfully at her nipple, the pain cutting through Rosemary like a warm knife and spreading down her body to between her legs. Indigo moved on to her other breast with that marvelous tongue of his, and Rosemary grasped forward blindly, latching onto his horns with both hands and bracing herself as the intense heat and pain coursed through her again. He gave her a moment to catch her breath, nuzzling against her chest and leaving a trail of kissing along her collar bone.

“Beautiful”, he murmured against her skin and Rosemary beamed.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

She felt his lips smile against her neck before he shifted downward and she was forced to let go of his horns, his mouth now at her chest, her stomach, her hips. His hands grasped her shoulders, claws prickling wonderfully and painfully, pinning her with ease. He straightened up, straddling her, and Rosemary was pretty sure it was only because of his amazing thigh muscles that she wasn’t being crushed flat by his sheer immensity. 

Indigo’s tail flicked around his hip and disappeared from view below. Something tugged at her pants and automatically Rosemary tried to sit up. Indigo’s hands squeezed slightly, a casual show of strength, and Rosemary couldn’t move an inch.  

He sniggered. “Not until I’m done, right?”

“Right,” Rosemary gulped. How had she never realized how strong he was, how firm and steady? She was too used to being in charge, running the store and him trailing behind, the loyal assistant. It was rather enjoyable to have the roles reversed for once.

The thing continued to tug at the button of her jeans, and out of the corner of her eye Rosemary could just see Indigo’s tail coiling and uncoiling in time with the sensation. After a moment there was a release at her hips as the button came undone and Indigo deftly threaded his tail through a belt loop, pulling her jeans down and exposing her pink panties.

“What else can that tail do,” she laughed. 

A wicked look broke over Indigo’s face. Something soft tickled between Rosemary’s thighs, teasing her lips down there and sending waves of heat coursing through her. A moan slipped out of her throat and Indigo smirked.

“Now, now, we’re just getting to the fun part,” he chided, head disappearing between her legs. Rosemary bent her legs out slightly to accommodate his horns, limbs awkward and unsure, before Indigo reached out and carefully guided her knees so that they were braced against his horns instead. Rosemary opened her mouth to thank him when the words became a shriek of delight as his tongue played at the outside of her panties, pressing the fabric roughly against her as he traced her labia steadily. He moved inward and Rosemary could feel the warmth spreading through her, fast and strong, wetness forming between her legs.

His tusk scraped the inside of her thigh and Rosemary’s back arched in pleasure, fingers digging into the carpet. In one swift motion he grabbed her panties in his teeth and ripped them away, tossing them over on top of the sad remains of her shirt. Now with nothing separating them he took her up inside his mouth, tongue massaging her clitoris. Rosemary groaned, low and long, and one of Indigo’s hands slipped away to assist his tireless mouth, claws providing a new, deliciously abrasive sensation. 

Heat and delight rocked through her body, building and building to the point that Rosemary thought she’d burst from the sensations burning inside her. Panting, Indigo pulled his head back up, golden eyes hungry, her cum dribbling down his chin. Slowly he leaned over her, one hand tangling in her hair, the other reach down and guiding his cock inside her. 

Rosemary whimpered, reaching up and grabbing his horns again as he moved deeper inside her and then deeper still, filling her completely and still going. A moan rumbled deep in Indigo’s chest and the two of them rocked in tandem as he dived down inside her, bodies a tangle of friction and ecstasy. 

Rosemary cried out in joy, body slick with sweat. Oh, it was good, so good, him inside her, how he could reach parts of her she hadn’t realized she wanted touched. It was definitely something she could get used to.    

With a shudder Indigo released inside her, hot and thick, and Rosemary let loose a ragged scream, her nerves on fire. Her breath came in jagged gasps and Indigo slid himself out of her, his own chest heaving and glistening with sweat, hair sticking to his skin. 

It took a few seconds for Rosemary’s mind to piece itself back together, and even then all she could manage was a breathless, “Wow.”

Indigo made a pleased rumbling sound and stroked her hair away from her forehead. “I tend to have that effect.”

“I mean, I knew that, but still. Wow.”

After a few seconds Indigo peeled himself off of her and leaned his back against the couch, but before Rosemary could fully catch her breath he had scooped her up again and deposited her in his lap. His toned, strong arms pulled her close to his chest, his whole body enveloping her easily as his face nuzzled her hair.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes,” Rosemary said, face flushing at how quickly the answer had come. “Did you… are you hungry still?”

“I’m always hungry.” He leaned over her face and kissed her, his long hair tickling her cheeks. She could taste herself on his lips. “You are fantastic.”

Rosemary grinned and melting into his warm embrace, eyes closing.

“Care for another round?”

“Right now!” Rosemary’s eyes flew open, looking up into Indigo’s hopeful face.

“Well, ideally yes,” he admitted, “but if you prefer, maybe in a more general sense…”

“God, you’re incorrigible.” Rosemary shook her head in exasperation but the grin never left her face. “I suppose I could clear my schedule. Assuming you don’t have anything better to do.”

“Making you happy is my top priority,” Indigo said as if the words had just occurred to him. He lapsed into thoughtful silence and nodded to himself.

“Yes, uh, well…,” Rosemary mumbled, embarrassed and pleased by his earnestness, “don’t get carried away.”

Indigo made a noncommittal grunting sound and stood up, casually keeping her in his arms so that her hands were braced against his chest and he had a generous hold of her ass.

“We should probably get cleaned up.” He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “And if you’re up for it, there’s always round two...”