Origin Of Sin

20. Sleeping Giants

CHAPTER 20 SLEEPING GIANTS

"You're quite sexy in your rage, Neoma."

Oh, God.

I entirely forgot how to breathe. The sound of his voice saying my name actually shocked me. A distant choir belted 'Ave Marie' at every syllable.
I could taste the honey dripping off the curves of the 'A' as he spoke. I could die happy hearing him say my name.

This was insane right. He has said my name before— hasn't he? It isn't like this is the first time or something. But I could feel something in me, ringing in recognition. Something deep and sleepy and tired and afraid awoke at his acknowledgment. This time was different somehow, the internal technicolor spark show going off in my heart said so.

Zuemier's lips return to my chest, burning a trail of teasing soft kisses across my flesh. He came to the edge of my shirt collar and revealed a toothy canine as he playfully nipped and pulled at the cloth, his hot breath seeping past the fibers to warm my nipples. I felt warm and bubbly. I felt like I was saturated with a sticky sort of affectionate nectarine. The aromas were overwhelming, lulling me into his seduction.

Zuemier's hand that had been brushing the pad of his thumb across my pulse danced down to my shoulder blades before descending down the outline of my chest, stopping right at the breast. He gave my collar another playful tug, eyes burning a curious type of desire into mine. His hand came down further, pressuring the side of globes ever slightly but my breath hitched all the same. At my reaction, he released the cotton, tongue flickering out to dampen his lips. "Answer my question, Neoma. Will you be staying?"

I was left unable answer, my lips trembling, need roasting me alive. Zuemier eyes swirled like an unstable hurricane on a rocky lighthouse illuminated coast. They inspired the dormant feelings I never thought I'd acknowledge again with a fury, but yet— they were hesitant. They were open in their desire but suspended into a state of inaction. Something was preventing him.

With that, the black tendrils made a sudden unexpected appearance once more, manifesting themselves through the folds and creases of his sweatshirt, reaching out to me in their familiar feather soft kisses, igniting me. It didn't seem like Zuemier noticed them.

My eyes fluttered closed momentarily at the sensations, and I could see me on top of Zuemier of what seems like ages ago, in the patient room. They reminded me of Zuemier's unbridled passion while he ate me out. They reminded me of the dark, inky satisfaction I felt in my dominance. But his hesitation reminded me of the reflection of myself in the bathroom.

God— everyone wants me to think about my sexual promiscuity. To talk shit about it. Make conclusions for me. Everyone here sees something in me that I can't seem to reach.

A tendril made its way to my chest, my breast, right over my heart.

Fuck them! I won't let the insanity of several mind-reading demons, horned or not make, conclusions of my character for me. Fine. I'll admit it. Zuemier scared me before. In the patient room. In the cafe. His being and the new feelings they were brewing scared me. Unfamiliarity is scary and I should be allowed to be scared but I won't become some psychological experiment for another Incubus or demon or whatever inhuman fūck face.

Zuemier pressed another kiss at my cleavage, slowly pulling my neckline down to expose more skin. His hand at the side of my chest palmed my breast ever so gently, slowly. I could feel goosebumps raising everywhere he touched. My teeth sunk into my bottom lip to stop the needy whine from escaping. Unbeknownst to us, a tendril crept its way up Zuemier's arm, where his hand's trapped mine.

I wanted this man. I wanted him sexually. I wanted him in me, on me, around me, everywhere me. That fact was so insanely true, I could get a tattoo of it and a decade later, it would still be true. But I'll acknowledge it. A part of me, a scared part of me wanted this man in the other way too. I wanted to unwrap his darkness, his mystery and see who he was under his shield myself and bask in its beauty or ghastliness.