Chapter 19

A question! How would one feel if a loaded truck hit them?

A better question.

How would one feel the relief of not being hurt by that deadly hit?

Only the person who had felt both could answer it.

Like that, only he was the one who knew how the relief of not hiding his secret before her felt. Or how he felt when he realized she wasn't a danger to him.

Or how he felt right after that orgasm, cuddled up in her arms.

It did not matter in which state he was; his body jittering and tired, his eyes heavy and hazy, and his heart soothed and comfortable while she spoke sweet words in his ears. Music of his favorite genre.

What simply mattered to him was her presence and her combing arms around him, which grasped him with warmth. Unpoisoned warmth that wanted nothing but to hold him.

He was in relief in her arms, flowing in the stream of affection, which was drawing him closer to her. And he could feel that stream, deep in his bones and his heart.

There was a soothing silence between them, the calming music of their breaths mixing with each other, matching the tempo of their chests.

But, abruptly, the wail of silence was pulled apart.

"I wanted to know when did you find out about your peculiar condition?" With a subtle tone, she questioned, running her fingers through his hair while she caressed his chest with her other hand.

"It just happened one day, a year ago." Eyes closed and with a tranquil tone, he answered, nuzzling more into the nape of her neck, aching for that bit of the comfort that she had taken away with her question.

"Out of nowhere?" She went on, as she wanted to learn more about him. That seemed only natural to know about your priced possession.

"Yes." He wasn't scared to answer her like before. He was just shy, that he was exposing himself to her like that, but he also wished to be more exposed. The session before had really done wonders for him.

"That's interesting." In real she wanted to say, 'That's weird.' She added. "Did you get a doctor to check it?"

"No!" He quickly denied it like a little child who wished to run away from an injection, which was adorable to her and she asked why he did not get a checkup.

"I'm scared." He simply answered. "Because you think the doctor will make you a weirdo for it." She had understood him well enough to read his mind by now. He was too predictable.

But he did not know that. He looked at her as if she had caught him jerking to her panties, or worse, committing a murder.

"What? You're predictable." With a crackle, she wiped off that stern look from his face, making him sink his face back into her neck.

"I want to know something as well." He questioned, asking her further if she had done those things with someone else as well. It had been on his mind. The information will certainly change nothing in his heart, but the need to learn begged to be watered.

To the question of his weary and wondering mind, she denied. She simply added, "I've never felt this way before."

His eyes once again landed on her, astonished, but a warm type.

"I've certainly had sex before, but not the type we have. You make me want to do things." He did not understand what she meant, and he didn't lie back to ask that as well.

"Your little secret excites me." That quickly shut his questioning mind and made him hide his face once again so as never to lift it again until he woke up from a deep sleep.

"You're awake!" Rubbing his eyes open, he heard her and noticed a blanket over him and an apron around her waist.

She was standing against the stove, stirring in a pot, which he could smell very distinctively. It was chicken.

"It's my first time cooking chicken. I don't know how it will turn out." As if knocked by a truck, he lifted his body with struggle and stood on his feet, blinking his eyes to stand with him in serenity.

He wanted to know how did she cook it and if it really was her first time, why did it have such a delicious scent?

He walked towards her, while her eyes waited for him, watching his body holding onto the lingerie, which he did not realize he was wearing.

"How did you cook it, if you don't know how?" He simply questioned as he halted before her and gazed at the pot full of boiling curry.

"I called my mother." She simply answered, staring at his nipples, which he abruptly noticed, and followed to quickly cover his chest.

He couldn't form words, but bashfulness had altered him once again, prompting his mind and body to seek a way out

But he couldn't run and hide himself under the blanket, as he felt himself caressed into her arms again.

"Don't you want to have a taste?" He quickly lifted his astounded eyes at her whispery words, smirking lips and tightening arms. Did she mean what he was thinking?

Taste? What does it mean?

"What are you thinking so hard?" She whispered again, inclining her plump lips to his palpitating lips, and waited for his response, for he could only go deeper into his brain, thinking the nastiest things possible, without a response from his lips.

"Here." Abruptly, she released his quivering body from her grasp and spooned out some soup for him to taste.

"Tell me, how is it?" She knew what she was doing when she fed him with her own hands, but having his cheeks flushed up and his mind weary because of her was enough to make her act naïve for a minute.

While she felt a rush of passion, he felt a rush of release, breathing strongly before he inhaled the soup and complimented her. "It's really good. It doesn't seem like it's your first time."

"Well, aren't we both so good at first times?" She whispered just as softly as she wiped the corner of his lips, looking at him like he was the dish she was cooking.

What did she mean by that? Her eyes had just turned a bit dark and her lips parted to breathe in softly and that action of tasting her fingers just wiped his lips.

She was teasing him. But he did not know what she meant by that.

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END OF THE CHAPTER

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