Page 53 of That Sik Luv

Watching them fall to their knees before us and beg their god to save them before sending them to the depths of hell they fear they belong.

Chapter twenty-eight

A Delicacy

I’mjustnotsureanymore.

I used to feel so sure. Confident in what I knew to be true. But from the moment Aero began pulling the veil back on my existence, I didn’t know what to think.

I once believed I could do right by God and be saved. That if I loved others as I loved myself, if I became the image of Him, worshiped Him, and abided by His commandments, that He would reward me in the afterlife, never living in fear of a detrimental hell that awaited. A place where suffering plagues you persistently. Eternal damnation. Where hope goes to die and sinners reap what they sow.

But these sins they speak of; masturbation, fornication, erotic thoughts... They don’t feel sinful to me. They feel natural. Biologically natural. As if some force deep within my genetic makeup is driving me towards the inevitable. I feel uninhibited in a way I’ve never known, and free from restraints around me. I crave the sensation of touch from a man. I yearn for the passion of a kiss. I have an overwhelming desire to touch myself and explore these ever-changing thoughts and feelings.

But planted there in the back of my mind are the thoughts that haunt me. Sin. Sinful. Sinner.

Who determined what was morally right and what was morally wrong? Would an almighty God truly not want me to explore feelings and emotions that connect me deeply to another human or humans before signing a paper, chaining myself over to one of them for life? Why is even thinking about sex considered immoral? Am I not an intelligent being who thirsts for knowledge of the world around me? Am I really expected to sit back and keep my mouth closed about the atrocities happening in the academy? Do I not have every right to question these sins they say I’m committing when theirs are horrifyingly worse?

My mind is a mess. Confusion swirling as I try to calm myself from the events that just took place.

I engaged in premarital sex with a man I don’t even know, and the most terrifying aspect is nothing felt more necessary.

Feeling slightly disturbed, I recall what I enjoyed most about it. The rough aspect of the hand to my face, the despicable words he uttered, the forcefulness of him filling me past the point of comfort, the crude way he finished. It felt so morally wrong, and yet the excitement of being taken by someone who can’t seem to control themselves around you left me feeling needed in a way I’ve never experienced. Wanted. Desired. Claimed.

I’m feeling myself spasm again, just rehashing as chills sweep across my body. The need to squeeze my thighs tightly together and cover my nipples that are forever hard in his presence, an absolute must.

I understand the piercing now. I felt it in a way I couldn’t even explain. Aside from the burning pain of being stretched to accommodate his size, I could feel the end of the piercing rubbing somewhere internally. A place that gave off little bursts of pleasure amidst the excruciating pain of it all.

I’d wanted my first time to be with a man that loved me. A man who was respectful and receptive to my needs. But Aero is none of those things. He’s rough, raw, and gritty, and as he said, he enjoys pain with his pleasure. I’m sure a man like him has never known love, the word withdrawn from his vocabulary.

We’re in the bathroom where he’s warming up the shower for us. I’m just following his lead at this point, as I’m not sure what normal is anymore. He removes his mask and I stiffen in place.

The lights are out and the minimal moonlight coming from the tiny window is doing nothing to help me see.

Grabbing my upper arm again, he roughly pulls me beneath the warm water along with him.

Without words, he grabs a bottle, opening it and smelling the contents. He places it back, repeating the process until he finds the right scent.

My scent.

That he can tell which is my shampoo and which is my body wash just from the smell of me has my stomach twisting in a nervous knot.

I forget how well he knows me. It terrifies me, especially acknowledging the fact that I literally know nothing about him. Which is why I can’t seem to understand why I’m drawn to him in such a way.

He lathers my naked body with soap, his hands running gently and carefully over me. His erection is back like it never left, the massive organ bouncing in the air between us, rubbing against my hip as hands wash away his remains on my chest, before gently massaging my breasts. Thumbs gently flick my nipples as he seemingly studies my body in the darkness with his touch.

As sore as I am, there’s a sick part of me aching for more. I want to experience that feeling of being full again. That feeling of being so closely connected to someone in physical form to the point of losing myself into a pleasured-filled fog. The euphoria; unmatched.

I want to experience that sensation of bliss again. It’s a high, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. A feeling of finally breaking through that tightly bound mess of lust, and achieving the ultimate reward.

I clench my legs together as the water bounces off his back, hitting me indirectly. I shiver, and he notices immediately.

He’s breathing harder than he was a minute ago, as he continues running his soapy hands all across my bare body. Turning me so my front is in direct line with the showerhead, he steps behind me, placing more soap in his palm. I flinch when his fingers meet my inner thigh.

“You should know you’re safe with me,” he whispers in my ear, his fingers trailing up to my center. “I haven’t fucked in years.”

My heart drops at the comment. Here I thought he meant he would protect and care for me in my vulnerable state, but no. He wanted to give me reassurance on STDs, now that there’s nothing I can do about it, anyway. I’m such a fool.

My frustration with myself takes over, and I elbow him, pushing him off me to distance myself beneath the water. Grabbing the soap, I lather myself up, rewashing my body with my own hands, rinsing myself clean of him and his touch.

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