Page 21 of Regressive

“Have you ever done something like this?” I watch his face when I ask. “To yourself or others?”

“I’ve experienced the strap,” he says, the corners of his mouth tugging down. “But it’s not my thing. I love skin and flesh. I like it soft and whole. I want to taste it, lick it, kiss it, treasure it.” His eyes meet mine. “I’m not judging. But I prefer to push myself and the people I work with to the edge in a different manner. Less painful. More transcendent.”

As he explains this, his hands wander, gently stroking my skin. He explores every inch, the soft parts under my arms, or the slight curve along the side of my breasts. It tickles and nags, pulling at a string coiled tightly at my belly. Heat builds on my skin, a contrast from the cool salve Silas coated over my wounds.

“There’s more than one way to reach Enlightenment,” he says, pushing my cheeks apart and running his finger down to the tight ring. “Do you want to experience it?”

My body jerks in surprise, but that is followed by a spreading warmth under my skin. It pulses in my veins. I have no idea what he’s asking of me, but I trust this man. He’s done nothing but keep me safe and healthy. “Please,” I breathe. “It’s all I want.”

He removes his hands and retrieves a different bottle. He wipes the salve off his fingertips and coats them in a slippery oil. He returns to his work, massaging the underside of my butt cheeks. The pressure is deep, assuring, and by the time he returns to the puckered ring my body is wracked with desire. Silas teases around the edge and whispers in my ear, “Relax, Imogene, you’ll feel a little pressure at first, but I’ll go slow.”

I take a deep breath and just as I release it, he pushes his finger inside. My belly twists and my muscles tighten.

“Ease up, or it’ll hurt.”

What Silas doesn’t know is that pain doesn’t scare me, but even I can sense my tension is keeping him out. I inhale again and he pushes inside, stretching me as he goes. “How does that feel?”

“Strange?” He curves his finger a little and a shiver runs down my spine. “Good. Oh, yes, good.”

He settles into a gentle rhythm, stretching me from the inside out. There’s discomfort, but it’s different. It’s not tied up in conflict. It’s just my body acclimating to something new—something exciting.

Silas’s free hand shifts, and I feel the flutter of his fingertips along the nerves at the front of my body. They’re slippery and slick, coating the hot bundle at the crux of my body. I suck in a gasp, bucking forward and back. To feel Silas inside and out like this, it sends shockwaves through my body, each one escalating as it builds toward the strong force that overtakes me.

“That’s it,” Silas says, bending to kiss me. “Ride it out.”

The orgasm wracks through me, and I close my eyes, panting through the experience. It’s not until my body stills, and Silas has removed his fingers, that I open my eyes and realize we’re not alone. I jolt up, fearful. “I—”

Rex’s eyes are blazing, his mouth set in a thin line. “Clean yourself up and get dressed. We need to talk.”

He walks out before I can react, and I look to Silas who is still beside me. “Is he upset?”

“It’s hard to know lately. He’s on edge.”

“Will he be upset that you did that to me? That I allowed you to do it?”

“He gave us permission, remember?” Silas brushes my hair off my face and helps me to an upright position. The pain in my backside feels better. “And I doubt he’s mad. Probably jealous.”

I snort. “I doubt that.”

He shrugs and kisses me gently on the mouth. “It’s good that he’s here and wants to see you. Get ready. I’ll tell him you’ll be out soon.”

I take my time, washing up and braiding my hair. I pull on one of my every day dresses, the fabric made from hemp cultivated on site and dyed with natural colorings. By the time I go to the living room, walking gingerly, he’s there alone. His eyes sweep over me, most likely resentful of my choice in clothing.

“Sorry I took so long. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

He nods at the chair. “Sit.”

I ease into the chair, trying not to grimace as the pain swells. I place my hands in my lap and wait for what’s coming; punishment, admonishment, abuse. With Rex it could be anything.

“I want to talk to you about your mother.”

I blink, trying to process his words. “My mother?”

He nods. “Yes. I know she and my mother were friends.”

Heat prickles at my neck. Speaking of my mother… it’s not completely forbidden but it’s frowned upon. It puts a target on my back by making people remember what happened when she rejected Serendee and Anex’s ways. She’s Regressive and was banished from the community.

“I’m sure that was before my mother made her thoughts and feelings known. I doubt Beatrice would have allowed herself to be tarnished by someone so—”

---