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“So sad... it makes even the saddest tears cry.”
He smiled at her tiny laugh. “That is so very, very sad,” she thought. “I would never want anybody to be that sad, not even a word.”
He returned to stroking her hair, his hand exploring everything it touched. Her contours, her texture, her tiny size next to him, the precise sound and rhythm of her heartbeat as he did. All of it brought on a question he didn’t want to ask for fear of the answer. As he contemplated it, the need to know passed up his anxiety. “Do you feel safe with me?”
She reached up and toyed with a lock of his hair. “What do you think?”
It wasn’t her testing, teasing tone that made him smile but the answer she’d just given. “I think... somehow you do.”
Her tinkly laughter reverberated in his body, and he tightened his embrace, feeling her more. “I think safe is a very, very, sad word next to... no, not working. I think safe is a very, very, terrifying word next to how I feel when I’m with you. Still not good enough,” she complained, twirling her finger in his hair as his powers rippled with her magic. “That’s it,” she realized in light excitement. “There are no words for just how safe I feel with you.”
“None?” he pressed, smiling.
“Not in all the universe,” she decided, factually.
“I’m just a wordless safe haven.”
“Indeed,” she marveled, seriously. “Where do all the words go? You come near and they vanish. It’s like a mean magic.”
“My presence makes you speechless?”
“I think more like dumb,” she said, bringing his laugh. “It’s true! My circuits get all scrambled up, it’s a very messy collision of neurons and I can only imagine what it looks like on the surface. Embarrassing.”
“And all this madness just because you feel safe?” he dared, her sweet words bringing more hunger in his hands.
Her hair twirling slowed in the sudden silence. “Maybe more,” she confessed softly.
He pressed his face against her head. “How much more?”
She resumed her hair twirling. “Maybe... so much more.”
His cock jerked beneath her, and she tensed, feeling it. His hand paused on her hip. “Do you still feel safe?” he quietly asked.
She nodded.
“You nod because you have no words?”
She nodded again and he suddenly hungered to feel her beneath the gown. “I’m starving,” he murmured, his touch slower, more deliberate now. His powers were cranked all the way up, tuning in to her hammering pulse.
“For... food?”
“For strawberries.”
Her breaths turned shallow as desire wound her body tight. “I have run out of fruit,” she whispered, breathless. “I always eat it first from the basket they bring.”
“Your breasts have the strawberries I’m starving for,” he dared.
“Kaphas,” she gasped.
“I should apologize,” he whispered, navigating his hand to the edge of her gown. “But I’m not sorry.”
Her breaths remained sharp as he crept along a secret path under her gown. Midway between her trembling legs, he paused, realizing he didn’t want to take it this time. “I think... I'll wait till you are ready.”
Her breaths froze. “Ready... for what?”
“To serve it to me.”
The tension in her body gradually loosened and she eased off him, causing his pulse to quake with worry. She stood before him, and they stared at one another till his blood ceased flowing. She reached up and moved the gown slowly off her shoulder, the immaculate gift jumpstarting his heart and breaths.
