Chapter 20

Phoebe had been restless all day, but the feeling was subsiding, now that she was tucked up against Peter on the couch. The new mate bond pulled at both of them, and the need to be close was persistent. Shifting, Peter drew her closer to him, and she sank into his embrace.

"Peter," she hesitated only a moment, and his brows rose in curiosity. Before he could say anything, she continued. "Would you kiss me?"

He blinked in surprise. "Are you sure," he asked, leaning back to look at her.

She nodded. "I'm sure."

"Then of course." His large hand felt so warm against her face as he cupped her cheek in his palm. He leaned forward slowly, giving her time to change her mind, but she didn't. When his lips barely brushed hers, she leaned into him, and he pressed his lips firmly against hers, just for a brief moment, before drawing back and watching her face.

Her eyes were still closed as she savored the new feelings, and Peter felt warmth spread through his chest as he watched her. When her eyes finally fluttered open, he smiled at her. "Again, or is that enough for now?"

"I think I'll always want to kiss you," she breathed, and then blushed, looking away.

His palm on her cheek gently tilted her face back toward him. "I will kiss you as often as you want," he promised. He knew this was a new side-effect of the Bond, but they'd both known it would happen, and nothing she wanted was against his wishes. "As long as you're sure you want that from me."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I want to kiss you again," she replied.

Happy to oblige, Peter leaned forward, and gently placed a kiss on her lips. Their lips drew apart momentarily before coming together again. And again. And again. And again. Peter kept the kiss soft, slow, understanding the newness of the bond and what it needed, wanting to savor the moment, to make it what they both needed. His lips touched hers again, pressing against her bottom lip. He could feel her lips against his top lip. He drew back until their lips were barely touching, before repeating the motion. He wanted to open his mouth further, to coax hers open, to draw her bottom lip fully into his mouth and lave it with his tongue, but he didn't. He pressed one final, gentle kiss to her lips and pulled away.

She was trembling. His hand moved from where it had cupped her cheek to rest against the side of her neck. Her pulse danced wildly beneath his palm. Her hands had moved from her lap, he noted. One rested on his shoulder while the other clutched at his shirt.

When her eyes opened to look at him, he smiled. "Okay, sweetheart?"

She nodded. "Yes," she said breathlessly. "I…" She trailed off, looking at her lap.

"What is it? Anything, remember."

"I liked that," she admitted.

He smiled. "You liked it?"

She nodded, plucking idly at his shirt where her hand rested on his chest. "The little kisses. I liked it. It was soft like the first time you kissed me, but...more."

He was sure she would like deeper kisses too, but he'd have to keep this in mind. Soft, small kisses she could sink into. Whatever she wanted. "I'll remember that."

Her eyes snapped back to his. "Really?"

"Really."

. . .

Peter did remember. Although their days continued much the same as normal, now that they had started a Mate Bond, Peter and Phoebe spent even more time in each other's company. Sometimes they just cuddled on the couch; other times they spent the whole night sleeping next to each other. When Peter made breakfast, Phoebe often walked up behind him to wrap her arms around his waist and rest her head between his shoulder blades. When Phoebe made breakfast, Peter would wrap her in his arms and kiss her neck; sometimes he left marks which would make her gently slap his shoulder in annoyance. On nights that either of them needed space, they would retire to their own rooms, but the next morning, they would inevitably end up snuggled on the couch.

The Bond was changing both of them, slowly but surely.

One weekend, Peter had to go out of town to deal with something related to the takeover of Eichen House. Phoebe studied from her magic books, cleaned as much of the apartment as she wanted to, meditated, and did all the things she normally would. At night, however, the restless feeling inside of her would not let her sleep. She drank chamomile tea, then hot chocolate. She paced the apartment. She read until her eyes couldn't stay open any longer, but as soon as she started to doze, she woke again.

Frustrated, she meditated to try to find the cause of her restlessness, casting out her magic in case there was a threat she had missed. Finding the restlessness only inside of herself, she sighed.

"Guess it's just the Bond then," she said to herself.

Standing, she walked toward Peter's bedroom, hoping that being in his bed would help her to actually sleep.

It didn't.

Phoebe lay awake in Peter's bed, more restless than she had been before. Groaning, she tossed and turned before finally giving up and walking back into the living room. If she couldn't sleep, she may as well do something productive.

When Peter returned on Sunday afternoon, he opened the door only to be attacked before he could fully step into the apartment.

"What…"

"Just shut up and get over here," Phoebe demanded.

"Whoa, sweetheart," Peter said, stopping before they made it to the couch. "What's wrong?"

Phoebe tugged ineffectually at his hand, and then let out a cry of frustration. "Why won't you move?"

"I will, as soon as I know what's going on," Peter replied, reaching out to turn her face toward him. He frowned at the dark circles under her eyes.

"What happened?"
"I haven't slept. Let's go sleep," she insisted, tugging again.

"What do you mean you haven't slept?"

Suddenly, Phoebe stopped tugging and looked at him accusingly. "You don't look tired at all. Why aren't you tired?"

"Because I slept," Peter said. "Why didn't you?"

Phoebe huffed, letting go of his hand. Collapsing on the couch, she groaned. "I couldn't sleep without you in the apartment. I felt so restless…"

Peter sat beside her.

"Is that normal," she asked, looking up at him with eyes glistening with tears.

Peter shook his head. "I don't know, Phoebe. Each bond is different."

"But you slept fine," she said, drying her tears and sniffling.

"I did," he admitted.

She sighed again. "Can you please just come with me so I can fall asleep and then you can go do whatever you need to," she asked calmly, her emotions under control once again.

"I'm not leaving." Peter stood and lifted her into his arms, walking them into the bedroom before laying her gently on the bed. He paused only long enough to remove his shirt before lying next to her.

Phoebe didn't even blush as she rolled to cuddle up to him. His arms wrapped around her, and she felt a twinge in the Bond, but it did not settle. Snuggling further into his arms, Phoebe whimpered as the restlessness got worse.

"This had better not mean we have to have sex, because I don't want to yet," she said grumpily.

Peter chuckled. "If you aren't ready, that's not what it means. It's something else."

Phoebe groaned. "What is it?"

Peter smirked where she couldn't see him, enjoying the feel of her in his arms, the needy way she clung to him. He liked having her need him in such a way.

Leaning down, he placed a kiss on her nose. She gasped, and he continued placing teasing kisses on her face, before finally capturing her mouth with his.

Phoebe responded enthusiastically, and felt the restlessness start to abate. Without conscious thought, she gripped Peter's strong shoulders and rolled until he was leaning over her.

Peter drew back from her, looking into her eyes. "Phoebe?"

"I'm sure. No sex, but kiss me."

Peter happily obliged, kissing her deeply as he hovered over her, surrounding her with his body. Phoebe wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with the hair at his nape. Peter leaned down on his forearms so he could hold her face in his hands, gently laying his body on top of hers.

They kissed like this for a long while, but both were conscious to keep their lower halves from touching. Finally, the restlessness abated, and Phoebe pulled back. Peter looked down at her, taking in her mussed hair, bright eyes, heaving chest, and kiss-swollen lips. Smirking, he rolled off of her.

"Okay now?"

Phoebe nodded against his chest. "Much better."