37. Alistair
I decide I do hate Onyx.
For filling my head with words and taking them back.
For leaving me in this moment without a way to… express myself.
“Would you want to not have them be dreams?”
“Make them real?”
There is so much…
So much feeling .
I am alive .
Pippi removes her…
I know this word.
Know it.
The cloth that sits under her clothes. Protecting that soft, forbidden area.
I know the word.
But it’s slipped.
She shakes. As she unclothes. There’s fear in her eyes again.
I don’t want her afear…afraid.
I breathe. Heavily. Warming her. Letting her feel the things I don’t have words for.
She smiles.
And it hurts to see her this way. A good hurt. A hurt that is sharp. Consuming. But also… pleasurable .
It’s been so long.
So long since I’ve felt touches from another human.
So long since I’ve laughed.
Talked.
Cuddled.
Desired.
So long since I’ve felt like a living man . Rather than an empty beast.
Pippi has given me all this. Given me life. Wants. Dreams.
I touch her. My nose against her arm. Her skin .
The contact hurts .
I want more. To touch everywhere . With my human hands. And human body. I want to feel her.
But what I have now is…
It’s…
Precious.
Her looks. Her touches. The scent of her…she’s…around… aroused . As am I.
She can feel mine. I can smell hers. And it’s enthralling.
That she trusts me.
That she wants me.
I can’t…I don’t have the words.
And when she slides into the water, I stop looking for those words.
I just… feel .