“Say it.” As she curled her fingers inside of me, pleasure coiled so tightly, it nearly cut off my breath. “You made me, but I’m your god.”
“God, sure, you’re my god, just—don’t stop.” I struggled to talk in between moans, knowing I would say whatever she wanted to hear in that moment as long as she wouldn’t stop destroying me with those perfect, long fingers.
“You were made for me, my sweet acolyte,” she whispered darkly before leaning down to suck on my neck with such force, I was sure its evidence would be visible for days. “You were made to take me. Now come for me.”
I couldn’t tell if it was her commanding voice, the calculated movements of her fingers, or the edging, but her command shattered something inside me like she’d wired my body to obey her.
Chapter 15.
My cries of pleasure turned into sobs when I came down. I didn’t want to cry, knowing it made her uncomfortable, but the tears spilled from my eyes faster than I could stop them.
Zafyra withdrew her fingers, her smug confidence quickly turning into confusion. She seemed not to know where to look.
“Sorry,” I forced out between sobs.
“Don’t apologize.” She groaned softly, running her glistening fingers through her hair, then stilled as if she hadn’t realized how much of a mess we’d made of ourselves. I could tell she was trying to comfort me – she just didn’t know how.
With a sigh, she leaned down beside me, awkwardly putting the blanket over us both. “Do you, ehm, always cry after sex?”
“No,” I sobbed. “Only when it’s good.”
She nodded slowly. “And how many people have made you cry after sex?”
“Only you.” I sniffed.
“Good.” A small smile curled around her lips. “So I was right. You’ve never been fucked properly.”
I rolled my eyes through my tears.
My trembling fingers entangled in her hair while I pulled myself closer to her, climbing on top of her so I could feel her body against mine, everywhere. Then, I closed my eyes to place a soft, sacred kiss on her forehead.
She glanced up at me, confusion crossing her face. “Why did you do that?”
I laughed through my tears. “Because you’re cute.”
Her face was a blank slate.
I kept smiling as I sat up on top of her, my hands caressing her body like I wanted to take in every inch of her. “Can I get you something? Some water? A massage?” I suggested.
“You—you want to give me a—” She blinked, staring at me with that puzzled expression when faced with a situation she wasn’t programmed for – this time without the glitch. “A what?”
I laughed. “You know what a massage is, right?”
“Yes, of course.” She lowered her eyes, and then I realized. My heart dropped when I realized Zafyra, for all her confidence, couldn’tfathom why anyone would want to give her a massage. She couldn’t imagine being worshipped in a nonsexual way.
I opened my mouth, but seeing the look in my eyes, she didn’t let me speak.
“Maybe just come lay with me for a while,” she said quickly.
I did as she said, pulling the blanket back over us both while resting my head in the crook of her neck. My whole body was tingling, but not from overstimulation – it was tingling with warmth, safety, unfamiliar satisfaction.
“When you said it was good…” She tilted her head slightly to glance over at me. “I like being your best, but I do hope this was not the first time you actually enjoyed sex.”
“It’s not that black and white.” I shook my head, closing my eyes to breathe her in as I searched for the words to explain something I barely understood myself. “I think human bodies are beautiful – especially the female body. Sometimes I think I’m attracted to someone because they are beautiful or kind, but once I’m in bed with them, I realize my attraction might’ve been aesthetic more than sexual. I can enjoy kisses, light touches, giving pleasure – I can enjoy it for the sake of making a woman feel good, even if I don’t feel arousal myself.” I bit my lip, my thoughts flashing back to the encounter with Nola and most people I’d been with before her. “But this is different. I don’t think I’ve ever… wanted to be touched the way I want to be touched by you.” I lifted my head to meet her gaze. “Does that make sense, or does it sound completely nonsensical?”
“It makes a lot of sense, actually,” she assured me.
I laid my head back down. After a life of having to overexplain myself all the time, it was relieving to be with someone who just got it.
