“Yeah, you want me to move my hand down. You want me to touch you here, don’t you?” His hand left my body for a brief second, and then I felt a fiery finger trace a path over the top of my panties right over the most sensitive parts of me.
My body jerked on its own accord, and I couldn’t stop the noises that slipped over my tongue. I’d never experienced anything like this. In my life, when someone touched your personal areas, it was disturbing and sick, but when Zeke touched me, it was soft and life-altering in a whole new way.
“Tell me what you want, Patience,” he said sweetly against my cheek.
And just like that, I no longer hated the sound of my name. The way he said it was so personal. After being called a nickname by a person so much, when they finally called you by your actual name, it had an emotional feel to it. It held a strange sense of finality, as if he’d somehow just given in to me.
His eyes connected with mine as he dipped the tip of his finger under the band of my panties and ran it back and forth across my pelvic bones. He worked a new finger inside my panties, until finally his hand was cupping me. He wasn’t moving his fingers, but just the pressure from the heel of his hand was almost enough for me.
I tilted my head back, my eyes closed, and my mouth opened on a wordless sigh.
“Please tell me what you want, baby.” His words were all around me.
My body got another rush of chills and my shoulders began to shake. When I finally spoke, my voice trembled with my body. “I don’t know.”
He was asking me what I wanted, but I didn’t know. I wasn’t like most girls who read about sex or even experimented with it. To me, it had always been a despicable act of injustice upon me, but this wasn’t like that. He was feeling me out before he touched me. He was making sure I was comfortable with his hands before he moved them. It was as if he knew my fear and understood it, and because of his understanding, I was able to enjoy touch for the first time in my life.
He took a deep breath and his chest trembled, letting me know he wasn’t as unaffected as he looked. “Can I touch you?” he asked.
There was more? I thought for sure this was the height of my sexual peak, but I guess I was wrong.
“You’re already touching me.” My voice sounded deeper, more seductive, and I celebrated that. Maybe I was changing before his eyes, because I felt as if I were. I was experiencing a mental transformation and I was almost certain that transformation was reflected on my outside as well.
“No, can I touch you?” With his question, he let a single finger press up against a part of me that had never been touched. My body came alive and the sensitive nub that had never been so sensitive before started to throb against his finger.
I swallowed loudly and I lost control of myself. All the strength in my body went away and I was worried that my knees would buckle and I’d topple to the floor. I gave in and collapsed against his chest. Little puffs of air blew back into my face as I began to softly pant against his skin. His chest rose and fell with a rhythm that I understood well. Coincidently, it was close to the same rhythm his finger was beginning to use as he pressed harder against my hot spot and began a circular motion.
I was going to pass out. Except this time it wasn’t from fear; it was from raw pleasure. My breathing became erratic and I was now digging my fingers into his shoulders. My body was so tight it felt as if it about to snap, and something, although I had no idea what it was, was just beyond the horizon. It was there, waiting to consume my body and ready to erase every dark memory I stored.
The slide of his finger against my body was so erotic. I had no idea my body was even capable of getting wet, but he’d somehow made it happen. Every one of my five senses were heightened and I found myself participating in a ritual as old as time as my hips started to move with his rhythm.