The Kitten Has Claws

The Kitten Has Claws [Chapter 45]

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Chapter Forty-Five

Violet was going to kill Finn. She was tired and ready for bed. But no, after they showered he had made a bet with her that he had killed more Hunters than her. Being stupid and competitive she had taken his bet, agreeing to do whatever he wanted if he was right. If he was wrong, he would have to do whatever she wanted.

Finn had killed six.

Violet had killed five.

Finn wanted to play Scrabble.

"Flaxer is not a word!" she hissed, catching him trying to cheat for the eightieth time.

"Yes it is," he protested. "It's a form of flax. You know, like flaxen, flaxier, flaxer."

"No," she said irritated. "Look it up in your stupid Scrabble Dictionary. It's not a damn word!"

Finn smirked and made a show of looking up the word, making sure to read the word on the top of each page. "Oops," he grinned, "guess it isn't a word." He reached out and replaced the R with an N.

She narrowed her eyes and resisted the urge to chuck her letters at him. He knew that she was freaking tired, yet he insisted on irritating her and keeping her awake with a mindless game of Scrabble.

"Your turn, sweetheart," he cooed at her. Glaring, Violet picked up five pieces, and, using the F already on the board, spelled 'FUCKER'. Finn gave a low whistle and grinned at Violet. "Someone is angry," he sang. "Why all the tension, baby?"

"I'm tired, Finn, and I want to go to bed, not play Scrabble with you," she growled.

"I won the bet Violet. However, I can always change the terms if that will make you feel better."

Through narrowed eyes she watched him, trying to gage what his ulterior motive was. "What would the new terms entail?" she asked suspiciously.

He leaned back, looking more relaxed than he should. "I want to see your wings, to touch them. They need to be cleaned anyways, let me care for them."

"This was your plan all along, wasn't it?" she hissed. "I should have known that Scrabble was merely to irritate me into agreeing with whatever you really wanted to do."

"So you agree?" Finn said cautiously. He wouldn't let Violet know it, but he was secretly fascinated with her wings. He had fantasies about them making love with her wings spread out in abandon. She was very protective of her wings because, as she had told him, she was powerless if her wings were bound.

Sighing, Violet started cleaning up Scrabble methodically, debating the ramifications of her choice. It wasn't that she didn't trust Finn, but she had never let anyone touch her wings before. It still hurt that they were what pixies considered an abomination because of her color. Plus, she didn't know if she'd survive his touch. She didn't know firsthand, but apparently pixies wings were ultra-sensitive to touch and she feared that the slightest touch from Finn would assault all of her senses with pleasure.

"I agree," she mumbled, standing up and facing Finn. He waited patiently as she removed her shirt and let her wings unfurl from her back.

"Beautiful," he breathed, watching the gossamer wings flutter delicately. They were a sheer black color, with veins of silver and purple. At the moment they were splattered with blood so Finn grabbed a warm washcloth and moved slowly towards Violet.

Walking around her slowly, he trailed his hand over her shoulder and down her back, letting her know where he was, much like petting a horse. His fingers traced the arch of the right wing, marveling in its silky texture. "Vi, you never have to hide these from me," he vowed hoarsely. "I love every part of you."