*Lupo*
I think I might have died, if only for a brief second, when the pleasure ripped through me with a force I'd never before experienced. I had planned to give to her, not to take, but I suppose there is a sort of giving even in the taking.
Feeling lethargic, uncertain I have ever be able to move again, I rest on my side, facing her, my hand draped over her hip. I don't fool myself into thinking anything has changed between us, that I will have anything more than today. When we made love before, she hadn't known who we were.
Now she knows. She isn't here because she loves me; she's here because she needs to put her past with her uncle, and perhaps her past with me, behind her. She's staring at my chest more now than she is looking into my eyes.
"It's somewhat of a relief," she says
