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“Five minutes too long.”
“What are you waiting for, then?” She laughed.
I moved back down her body and tentatively reached out with my tongue.
She gasped and gripped my hair in her fists, pulling her legs wider, up to her belly to open herself to me. She pressed my face lower. Milky fluid poured out of her, just a small amount, running down to her ass.
I’d never tasted myself before. It wasn’t something I’d ever considered. I’d never fucked without a condom, even after my vasectomy, but even if I had ever filled another woman’s pussy, something told me I wouldn’t haveneededto lick her clean like I did with Decca.
It tasted salty and acidic, but I wasn’t doing it for the flavor. I was doing it… I didn’t know why I was doing it, but it was so filthy my legs tingled. My cock raged, and I couldn’t help but buck my hips against the bed, seeking relief from the poor, maligned quilt. Fuck, I needed to come. My cock ached as I licked and licked and stroked my tongue into her vagina, as she fisted the quilt and pushed her pussy harder against my face.
“Gus, I’m going to come.”
“Yes, Crow. That’s the idea. Come for me. I need it.”
“I need something. Inside. I need you inside.”
I gave her a finger. It wasn’t what she wanted, but after all efforts at cleaning her, I didn’t want to defile her again.
I licked lower as I stroked her from within, using my thumb to swirl over her clit from the top.
My tongue against her ass made her lose control. My own hips moved harder, deeper, making the friction of the quilt on my cock almost painful. She needed to come, and I needed… I just needed. Fuck, I thought my days of coming alone and ruining sheets were over.
Decca’s face was so peaceful in her drowsy state. The line between her eyebrows faded, and a smile played on her lips as she floated in and out of sleep. She’d had a difficult week. Several new, challenging cases had come up. The forensic artist she worked with had put a face on the skull of a man, and he’d been identified. And finding new ways to make her come was the closest thing to heaven, but we were suffering from the lack of sleep.
I sat on the edge of the bed, memorizing her face in its relaxed state. When she woke, her mask of tension would slip back into place. Her teeth would clamp together. Her eyes would take on that sad, somber light that conveyed all the horrors she’d seen.
I lifted her hand into mine and held it lightly, her long fingers draped gracefully over my wrist. Charting the hills and valleys of her bones, the webbing between her fingers, the long black nails, my heart felt bruised with fullness.
There was a pain that came with loving her. A hot ache in the back of my sinuses as I considered how much joy and peace and wholeness she’d brought into my life.
I had no idea how much I’d been lacking.How had I ever thought I could have a life without her?
I didn’t know how to give back what she’d given me.
Marriage was one of the mysteries of the Church. A mystery of oneness and love. Until her, I’d only understood it intellectually.
It was the concept of epiclesis. This was how it was similar to the other sacraments. During Holy Communion, wine and water and bread became the Holy Eucharist. It wasn’t a chemical or physical change. Nor was it symbolic. It was a spiritual change.
A dynamic so subatomic, humans weren’t capable of fully grasping the complexity.
There were no vows in the marriage ceremony. The bride and bridegroom did not execute their marriage themselves. Instead, the priest asked the Holy Spirit to be sent down on the man and woman and make them into one flesh.
One flesh.
That’s how it felt to be looking at her. Holding her hand that wasmyhand.
Decca stirred, surprised to find her hand in mine, but obviously liking it. She laced her fingers through mine and held tight. “What time is it?”
“Almost six thirty.”
“I need to make dinner. Is it a fasting day? I hope peanut butter and jelly’s okay. I have so much paperwork to do.”
I kissed her hand. “If it can wait, I’d like to take you somewhere.”
She groaned. “You’re evil, Father Constantinos.”
“You need a break from work. Let me take care of you. This is what we signed up for, right? For better or worse?”
