Page 21 of Sins of the Stone

Literally.

“Like when you’re nervous about what people think of you or how you look or act,” she said quickly. “Now go, please.” She couldn’t wait until he was gone and get her clothes back on. His gaze was tempting her to be reckless. His eyes were prying—maybe not with malicious intent, but with something she wanted to avoid.

“You are worried about what I think about you? About your body?” He tilted his head to the side. It would’ve been rather cute had she not been completely stripped with a head full of perverse thoughts. She sighed, hoping the attitude would send him away and she would deal with the consequences later.

“Not just you. Everyone,” she said. “Nowgo.” The last word was drawn out into a whine, her voice chattering with the chill of the water. Yet, he continued to run his gaze over her pale flesh, like he was discovering a new species. She was alien to him, yet instead of being terrified, he was intrigued.

“There is no need to worry or carry thisself-consciousness. You are not unpleasant to look at,” he mused. “In fact, I am quite curious about your body. I have never seen a human up close before.” He brought his clawed finger to her chin, her face bright red. He tilted her head to the side.

“You have things I don’t, things that are different,” he said. He sheathed his claw, pulling her hair behind her ear, then ran his finger along the red ridge. “Like your ear, it is not pointed, like mine.” Her insides stirred instinctively at his tickling touch, sending her intestines into knots. She squirmed at the thought of him caressing her more.

“Your eyes are bright like the sky,” he said, dragging his finger from her ear to her face. “Then your face turns colors with your emotions, sometimes showing the delicate lines that bring you life.” She was trembling, feeling both cold and hot simultaneously. His finger trailed down her body, arms still wrapped tightly around her chest. He ran his finger in a zig-zag down the space above her chest.

“This space here turns colors too, sometimes. Mostly red, with your face. My skin does not change,” he murmured, trailing down and stopping above her bundled arms. Her eyes were glued to his hand, and her emotions swept up in a whirlwind.

“This part you cover is more personal. That is why you are guarding it, correct?” His words were hammering into her head, each one another nail contributing to her melting away down the stream. Before she could realize she didn’t give a response, their eyes connected, prompting an answer.

“Y-yes,” she squeaked, her voice falling out of her mouth recklessly. Herhead felt light, and the tension made her almost dizzy.

“But you are alsoself-consciousabout this,” he said, placing his palm on her stomach. “Yet, you do not cover it.”

“I—I—” She couldn’t bring herself to speak, his touch making her break out into more goosebumps. Before she could get another set of garbled words out, he placed his finger over her lips, causing her disjointed voice to silence.

“Don’t speak. I know you are nervous,” he said, his voice close to lulling her into a rest. “Do you trust me, Ursulette?” He let his finger fall from her lips, settling onto her forearm, making her tremble more. Despite her nerves, she nodded.

“If you would let me, I would like to explore more of your body,” he purred, his voice like a trance.

He is really a master of seduction,she thought,somehow.

And that was what she liked about him, besides his kindness, his smile, and how he treasured her. That affectionate nickname made her experience a flurry of feelings every time he said it. He wanted her more than other people, yet he was a monster. Throwing caution into the wind, she loosened her grip.

“I will not bring you harm,” he said softly, persuading her arms to her sides. With her body now exposed, Ramuz continued observing, his fingertip tracing the curve of her breast. She pinched her eyes shut, unsure what or if she felt too much. His touch made her insides flip. He continued to trace, all four digits now brushing the top of her breast.

“What is this called?” he asked, his eyes observing, drinking in this intimate moment she shared with him. Her tongue felt swollen, like she was about to swallow a bone-dry chunk of meat—and then choke on it.

“Ah, I, um—”

Ramuz chuckled, almost a giggle, a grin stretching across his stony face. “You’re very amusing when you’re nervous,” he beamed. “Maybe I should make you nervous more often.” If it were possible, her body would burst into a flame.

“I don’t think so,” she smiled nervously. His eyes got playful, making her heart leap to her throat.

“I think so.” He placed his hand back on her flesh, this time cupping his hand around her. “Now, satisfy my curiosity, Ursulette,” he purred. “What do you call this?” Curiosity would devour the both of them, it seemed.

“It’s, uh, a breast,” she managed to spill out. Ramuz nodded, squeezing slightly as if trying to feel what was inside. After probing her for what seemed like forever, his finger and thumb came together, pinching her nipple. Sucking in her bottom lip, she fought the urge to cry out and a bolt of lightning settled in the pit of her stomach, right between her hips.

His eyes were shaded, observing, poking, prodding, twisting again, more pressure, sending another storm brewing through her body. This time, she couldn’t stop the moan erupting from her throat, her eyes pinched shut as she jolted. Ramuz ripped his hand away from her.

“Have I hurt you?” he said quickly. “I did not intend to.” Ursulette’s eyes opened, and she shook her head.

“No,” she gasped. “It’s fine.” The feeling of his fingers lingered on her flesh. As if reading her mind, he placed his hand back to her, his thumb brushing over her hardened bud. Once more, the storm inside began to rage.

“And this? Tell me what this sensitive organ is.” His eyes were glued to her chest, his thumb pressing harder.

“It—” She gasped as he took the base in his fingertips, giving it another twist. She tilted her head down this time, hoping to avoid showing him her face in case he interpreted it as pain. After she gathered her breath again, she spoke.

“It is called a nipple,” she said, her voice threatening to crumble.

“I have never interacted with someone like this, so I would not know.” The idea made her sad, knowing he was lonely all his life. Surely someone would benefit from his company. She supposed that someone would be her now that she had nowhere to return to, but they couldn’t go further than they already had, could they? They could be friends, but she couldn’t be with him in the ways she was craving, right?

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