Page 64 of Sicken of the Calm
I tilt my head sideways so thatour lips are almost pressed together, sharing breath.
“Fuck me,” I murmur because Iwant him to join me in this place, completely. A rush of air goes through himand into me, across my cheek and my mouth.
“Joaquin,” he says quietly, aprecious stone rolled across his tongue. He stays folded over me for a few moremoments, our eyes closed, feeling.
When he moves, I simply seem tomove with him. When he enters me, it’s the inevitable culmination of the day.My face is still pressed against the sheets, my hips in his hands as he fucksme from behind, slow and a little shallow to avoid my prostate. The pain of mybody makes the aftermath of the pleasure go on, a steady tide. He drapes over me,pressing kisses across my shoulders, my neck. I sink into the sensation, losingtrack of time. All I know is what he gives me.
With a broken version of my namepressed into my spine, he comes trembling against me. I let myself justexperience it, feeling myself go under again, as if I can finally, fully letgo.
Instead of collapsing, Ezralowers me carefully on my front, spread out as he rests beside me. I turn myhead toward him and he presses a kiss between my eyes before pressing ourforeheads together. We lay there, sated and content. When he makes to get up, Imake a protesting noise, but let him go when he tells me he’s going to getthings to wash me up. I’ve read that aftercare is often as important to the Domas it is to the sub, so I let him go.
Ezra is always gentle with meafter an intense scene, but this time he’s even more so. I’m lost in a safeplace as he trails the wet, then dry towel against my skin. The gentlesensations lull me into a state of awake unconsciousness until a new sensationjoins the normal routine.
“What’s that?” I slur as I feelthe cooling sensation of cream being spread carefully across the aching skin ofmy backside.
“Unscented lotion. Vitamin E,” hereplies. I make a noise of acceptance. “Does it hurt?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say because it does. Notthe lotion, but there’s a deep ache that I know will last for days.
“Bad?” he asks, and I shake myhead against the pillow it’s now over.
“Good,” I correct. As much asit’s impossible for me to move right now, part of me wants to get up and lookat myself in the mirror, look at the reddened skin. That can wait untiltomorrow, however.
When Ezra finishes, he putseverything away and then comes back to me. He manages to put a shirt on me andthen drapes a blanket across my legs, leaving the skin of my ass exposed,before lying beside me carefully. I huddle closer to him, but he stops me. It’sonly for a moment, just so that he can get his arm from under him to drape itacross my back, but it causes a sudden, odd sense of vertigo. It’s as if I hadbeen walking carelessly only to abruptly discover the narrow ledge I’m on, thekilling drop at either side of me. The vulnerability of the feeling is onlymagnified by how safe and whole I had felt only a moment before, and it stealsmy breath away. I suddenly feel it – the hollow at the centre of the want, thedistance between us, the fear of losing him. A cracked noise breaks at the backof my throat. Ezra looks at my face, and his realization of something beingwrong makes it worse, more real. He opens his mouth but I’m already rollingaway, only to stop as my sore skin rubs against the sheets. I let out a painedhiss, and Ezra’s hands catch my shoulders loosely.
“Hey, hey, it’s ok – let’s takethis one thing at a time, ok? All we’re doing right now is rolling on our frontso that it doesn’t hurt, ok?” he says, and I follow his hands, disoriented.When I’m resting back on my stomach he keeps one of his hands on my shoulder,but just barely.
“Let’s just breathe together – fivetimes, ok?” he says.
“I’m not weak,” I say, and Idon’t know where it even comes from. I don’t even know what’s going on.
“I know. Trust me, Joaquin, I’venever doubted that. But, I think we just need to breathe for a moment,” hesays. I nod and he lies next to me, keeping a stretch of bed between us. Idon’t know if I’m glad of that or not.
I breathe shakily with him five times,then five more. The silence that falls after the long breaths seems ever moreoppressive than before. I stare unseeingly at the bed, not being able to lookat Ezra’s face, but not being able to close my eyes either.
“Can I touch you?” Ezra asks quietlyafter a moment, and I nod jerkily, suddenly needing it desperately. He shufflestoward me and I wrap my arms around him, probably squeezing too tightly despitethe odd angle as my hips remain flat on the bed. He holds me just as tightly,threading one of his hands through my hair.
“Tell me what you need,” he says,but I shake my head. The answer is simply,you.
I finally manage to relax mymuscles, loosening my hold on Ezra slightly.
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,ok? Let’s just rest now,” he says, but the assurance has the opposite from itsintended effect.
“It was nothing,” I say.
“Still. We need to-”
“It was seriously nothing.”
“Ok. Don’t worry about it now,we’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he says, but I shake my head. The prospect ofhaving this hanging over my head until tomorrow is even worse than talkingabout it now.
“Ezra, I swear it was nothing,” Iinsist. Ezra pulls back slightly, just enough to look at my face, seeming toknow that I’m not going to let this go on until tomorrow.
“The scene-” he starts, but I cuthim off.
“Was perfect. It wasn’t that.”
“Then, what was it? Even if itwas nothing,” he says before I can, “Even if it was the smallest thing, athought or a noise or anything, what was it?” he asks. I clench my jaw. There’sno way he’s letting this go, and I feel incapable of lying, even if I don’ttell him the whole truth.
