Page 61 of There is No Devil

The ancient Egyptians thought that humans were formed of clay. Their ram-headed god turned them on a potter’s wheel with mud from the banks of the Nile.

Cole is shaping me under the clay. Massaging my flesh, reforming my body.

I give myself over to him. I let him work.

I close my eyes, bathed in the heat and light of the fire. I’m laying on the rug now, Cole’s hands roaming over me. He’s stripped off my clothes. I’m naked as the day I was born.

I used to be Mara the victim. Mara the damaged. Mara the disposable.

The day I met Cole, I was dying.

Maybe I did die.

Through Cole, I was reborn.

Now I’m Mara the artist. Mara the star. Mara the unbreakable.

Only Cole could make this possible.

He wants to be the center of my universe.

I want that, too.

I want to worship him as the Egyptians worshipped their gods. I want to pray to him for help and protection.

I want to give him my mind, body, and soul.

Cole strips off his clothes and climbs on top of me. He slides his cock inside me, arms braced on either side, looking down into my face.

He’s made my body so warm and relaxed that each stroke of his cock is pure molten pleasure. He slides in and out of me, watching my eyes roll back in bliss.

“Cole …” I groan. “I … I … I …”

“I know,” he says.

He can’t hold back his grin. He knows exactly what kind of effect he’s having on me.

I gaze up at him.

“I love you,” I say.

If I’d thought first, I would have been too afraid to say it.

Cole looks down at me, his eyes black and flickering, full of reflected flame.

“What does it feel like?”

“It feels like I’ll do anything for you. Jump off a bridge for you, turn myself inside out for you. It feels like madness, and I never want it to end.”

Cole considers this, his dark eyes roaming over my face.

“Then I must be in love,” he says. “Because that’s what I feel, too.”

* * *

A week later,while Cole and I are taking a stroll through Golden Gate Park, his phone rings in his pocket.

He pulls it out and answers the call.

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