Finally, finally, Oberon’s body relaxed from its agonized bow. He collapsed onto Ángel, limp, heavy, wrung out.

That was unbelievable.

The room smelled powerfully of sex hormones, sweat, and Oberon’s semen, which had a slightly sweet aroma, like fruit. Emotion-magic pulsed through the air. Ángel watched the rosettes fade from Oberon’s body, the dead weight of his lover still bearing him down into the mattress.

He liked the heaviness, but he didn’t like the stickiness. So after a while he nudged Oberon, who managed to disentangle himself and roll over onto his back. Ángel crawled off the bed, staggered to his feet, and padded to the bathroom, where he toweled a truly amazing amount of greenish jism off himself, then came back to the room with a towel.

Oberon, awake but limp, was still sprawled flat on his back across the bed, his face motionless and calm.

Ángel tenderly mopped their semen off his body. “I think you came for, like, seven minutes.”

Without opening his eyes, Oberon said, “Probably not much more than one.”

“One minute?” Ángel tossed the towel into the corner and flopped down beside Oberon, who linked a hand around his wrist and began to purr. “A minute. I’m not sure if I’m jealous or horrified, baby. I’d have a heart attack if I came for a minute.”

“I think I did.”

“Is that usual, or was it because it’s been eight years?”

Oberon stirred. “Nine years.”

“Nine?” repeated Ángel, incredulously. “¡Ño!”

“Eight years here, about one in meditation and training.” He smelled like ripe honeydew melon and musk. “Does ño mean no?”

“No. No is no. Ño is, like, fucking goddamn whore.”

“I shall never achieve fluency,” sighed Oberon drowsily. “A minute is . . . not unusual. You’re quicker?”

“You were there.”

“I mean . . . all of you?”

“Not just me?” Ángel combed his fingers through Oberon’s downy hair, and the purring intensified. “That was way fast. Sex can definitely last longer than that. I was amped up. But the actual orgasm part, yeah. Ten seconds maybe, bam, we’re done.”

“Hmm. Quick,” Oberon murmured. His voice was slow and heavy with sleep. “I was also amped up.”

“I’ve heard that women can make it last longer, but I don’t really know.”

Oberon rolled over on his side and pulled Ángel tight against his body, wrapped himself around Ángel like a strangler vine. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “I like the kissing, except I can’t watch you and kiss at the same time. And you’re so beautiful.”

Ángel bit his lip. “Not like you’re beautiful.”

“Me, no,” denied Oberon. “We fae all look the same.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.” Ángel had never seen anyone more beautiful than Oberon. “Are you going to sleep?”

But Oberon was already out, arms heavy around Ángel’s waist.

Chapter 21

Ángel drowsed restlessly.