Page 39 of Our Sadie
“No,” I whip my head back and forth to emphasize what I’m saying, but a croaky quality has entered my voice, just like it did when my pleasure reached its zenith.
More steams of liquid careen down my face, and this time, I feel them, feel the twin raw paths they take before they drip off either side of my chin.
“I’m getting you out of this.” And with that, Jerome makes good on his declaration, unfastening the nylons from around each of my limbs.
As soon as I’m free, I scrub my palm under my eyes. “I’m not crying. These aren’t tears.”
“You are crying, but as long as you’re okay, we’re good. Are we good?”
“We are. We’re fucking fantastic, really.” I’m wrung out in the best manner possible, although I have no clue why things went down that way. I’m totally unharmed, yet there’s a catch in my chest and a lump in my throat.
“Come here,” he says, and I cling to him like a koala bear, burying my face in his beautiful bare chest.
I’m feeling... emotional.
He lifts me into his arms, something I wouldn’t normally allow, but right now I welcome his closeness. It’s like I’m shattering a little, and his care and tenderness is holding me together. Carrying me over to our sofa, he sits with me for a few minutes until the tears come to a halt, and I peer up at him.
“What was all that?”
I don’t have to say more. He knows what I mean.
“You were overwhelmed, that’s all. It happens. Some people call it a crygasm.” He doesn’t seem perturbed, but then, this is Jerome. Nothing seems to get to him. If anything, he’s acting the teeniest bit... arrogant isn’t quite the right term. But there’s definitely some self-satisfaction there. He’s borderline smug.
That’s it.
He’s proud of himself.
If I had a throw pillow close at hand, I might pummel him with it. But he’s cradling me to him so gently that even then I might rethink that. He gives me that easy smile of his, and I shake my head at him.
He’s a cheeky bastard is what he is, so I bop him on the arm until he releases me. “I need a drink of water.”
My sob session has left me dry as a desert.
We get dressed, his eyes gliding along me with enough attention to have him semi-erect all over again. Cad.
“Let’s go get you some,” he says, and if this was any other guy, he’d probably be waggling his eyebrows and laying it on heavy with the innuendo. Jerome doesn’t, though. He delivers this line with just enough subtlety to have me guessing if he means this as a tease or not.
I nudge him in the ribs with my elbow just in case, and his quick chuckle tells me everything I need to know. So, we leave the library sated and with the slightest of grins on our faces.