Peter reached up after a moment—after regaining breath—and tugged his sea-prince down to be kissed. Nerein landed atop him in a sticky half-protesting puddle, and kissed him anyway, and then pushed his head under Peter’s hand and wanted to be petted.
“Cat,” Peter said, entertained; and did as requested. He felt incredible. Everything felt incredible: the radiance lingering in his muscles, the cotton of his sheets under his back, the weight of merman sprawled all over him. “Fish-cat. Shark-kitten. Something like that. You awake, at all?”
Nerein did something midway between a kiss and a nip to Peter’s collarbone. “I only know about cats from storybooks. Is that a compliment?”
“A little prickly, nice to pet, definitely welcome on my lap. I’d say yes.”
“Hmm. You have entirely not worn me out yet, if that’s what you were asking. We could continue. Try more…adventures.”