Page 82 of Resilience

A vibration went through his chest, and Athena thought, he’s purring. Maybe she was as well; all she knew for sure was she’d never felt like this. Already an orgasm was hurrying toward her, but this was more than physical pleasure. This was ... more than she even understood, but it was right, that she knew.

When he shifted again, coming to rest directly above her, balanced on both his forearms, and she felt the press of him at her core, Athena opened her eyes. Sam had gone still, and he watched her. Waiting for her to tell him again, at this point of no return, that she was ready. That she wanted this.

That was new, too, this feeling of being the one in charge, even as she lay beneath him. Knowing for sure that he would stop when she said stop, that he would never do anything she didn’t want, never try to ‘persuade’ her to change her mind. That he would respect her. Always. Forever.

Slipping her hand between them, reaching his cock, she took hold—and felt Sam flinch deeply as his eyes fluttered closed. Together, they led him into her.

He moved slowly, entering her by fractions. His slide was smooth, but Athena felt the stretch of her body making room. Any burn she might have felt was soothed by the exquisite pleasure of his body filling hers, finding every most sensitive, most needy place inside her.

When he reached her limit and stopped, she knew there was more of him she didn’t have room for—but Sam didn’t seem to mind that. His eyes were squeezed shut, and tendons rose beneath his jaw.

When he began to rock, to build a rhythm, Athena was already so close she thought something inside her might literally burst. Just as a half-sane thought to do something to distract herself a little before she went over into Orgasmland began to form, however, Sam did something new, like a twist just at the point his thrust went deepest. Whatever it was, it turbocharged every single nerve and cell in Athena’s body, and her climax ran her over like a locomotive.

She’d never felt anything like it. As if she were being hollowed out and filled back up with something new, all while she floated and rolled through a star-filled sky. Her skin felt half its normal size, and twice its normal temperature. It was pain and pleasure and release and tension, and god, so incredibly, entirely perfect.

While her orgasm had her in its clutches, Sam’s pace slowed but didn’t stop, keeping her going even longer, then bringing her home gently. When she opened her eyes, his face was flushed and sweaty, his expression a little desperate. Understanding that he’d denied himself until she was done, that he loved her that much, she rocked her hips up to counter his next thrust. When she felt a groan or a grunt in his chest, she did it again, quickening their rhythm until he couldn’t hold out any longer. His hips rocked faster, harder, and Athena felt the stirrings of a second orgasm just as he thrust deep and went rigid, frozen except for a series of tremors though his middle.

As he finally relaxed, he gaped at her, obviously as stunned as she was. Then he dropped his head to hers and kissed her more deeply, more emphatically, than he ever yet had. Like he wanted to fuse them together just like this.

Athena threw her arms around him and joined the effort.

No question they had crossed the point of no return. Nothing would ever be the same between them again.

She meant never to look back.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Sam woke to the sounds of Athena having a nightmare.

They’d slept in the same room many times, so he recognized the nightmare she was having: the one where she didn’t have hands. Always her arms came up, hands dangling, and she made a ghostly kind of whimper as if she was seeing only wrists at the ends of her arms.

Even the way she whimpered was different from the sound most people made. People who didn’t know any Deaf people well probably had no idea how much even sounds considered autonomic were shaped by the needs of communication. Whimpers and grunts, even coughs and sneezes, had an element of language about them; hearing people in community, like those sharing vocal language, made similar sounds. The few sounds Athena made were totally different.

Though they’d slept in the same room frequently, even as adults, and they’d fallen asleep on various sofas or the floors of various rooms often enough, it had been years since they’d slept in a bed together—and they’d maybe never slept wrapped up together in this way, even as little kids.

He had eased this nightmare from her several times. But now she was already in his arms.

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