Page 82 of Vows of Sacrifice

“I’m not very good,” she said apologetically.

I smiled fondly at her.

“Nobody really is, and you know why? Because it’s not a question of technique, but of who we kiss. We kiss with desire, with love, with the heart. Kissing for the sake of kissing, without chemistry, has never pleased anyone.”

I was still seated as Ashana leaned in to close the distance between our two faces. With my gaze fixed on hers, I held back my impatience like a mad dog on the end of a rope.

“So, if I kiss you with passion and love, I’ll always kiss you well?” she whispered.

I narrowed my eyes slightly.

“Exactly. Give free rein to your feelings. Share with me each of your emotions and I’ll accept them and offer you mine in return,” I assured her, my mouth very close to hers.

Ashana finally dared. I trembled inside. Then, in a silent invitation to be bolder, I parted my lips so that she could slide her tongue to meet mine. And she did. I was drunk with joy. Truly. My fingers gripped the edge of the table as an anchor to keep myself from responding too passionately to her kiss. Control yourself, Dovah, control yourself, damn it. I let myself go for a brief moment, moaning into her mouth. It was so good! Her taste was sweet, bewitching; I wanted more! I wanted more!

When I heard the blanket fall to the floor, I opened my eyes wide and, after gently placing my palms on her cheeks, I pulled her face away from mine to devour her with my gaze. Eyelids closed, mouth wet and swollen from our kiss, Ashana was the very image of sensuality. I straightened up slowly, so as not to break the spell.

This time, it was me who kissed her. She accepted me completely and, not forgetting to control myself a little, I voluptuously caressed her tongue with mine. Without interrupting our kiss, I began to undress with one hand, while the other gently pressed the nape of Ashana’s neck.

Without her really realizing it, I was shirtless, wearing only my trousers and what served as underwear. I knew several things were happening: first, I was struggling to keep my human irises, which, transformed by the throes of desire, were revealing my true form. The second concerned my tattoos, which must have been changing configuration, again for the same reason. My emotions acted on my curses like an invisible finger smearing an ink stain.

Before Ashana, I’d never lost so much control over my appearance because of the lustful fire burning in the pit of my loins. I discovered that, with her, I was incapable of properly curbing the phenomenon.

Gently, I led her to our bed. I smiled tenderly, slightly amused, as I realized that she stubbornly kept her eyes closed out of shyness. That was fine; on the contrary, I wanted her so much I wasn’t sure I could keep my own eyes in their human shade.

As soon as she laid down, I gazed at her, savouring the sensual beauty that was radiating from her without her being aware of it. Then I kissed her again, just before running my lips along her jawline until they delicately grazed her earlobe.

Ashana moaned and her body naturally arched up to press against mine. I knew it at once: this simple gesture annihilated my ability to camouflage my nature. All I could do now was pray that she wouldn’t open her eyes just yet . . .

My mouth kissed her graceful neck and the arch of her collarbones, while my hand caressed her ribs, then her hip, then her thigh. I was careful not to put all my weight on her . . . not now, not yet.

When my lips grasped the tip of her breast through the delicate fabric of this garment that was driving me mad, Ashana let out a moan that hit me directly in my lower abdomen. As I caressed the erectile nipple with my tongue, my hand continued its exploration, venturing where my whole being wished to go.

So as not to frighten her, I barely touched her groin. I was waiting until I’d reached her other breast to try a little more direct contact. At this moment, I wondered if Ashana had ever given herself pleasure alone, or if she had preferred to ignore this part of her body and her desires. The religion of the One God was very strict regarding anything relating to sex.

I hesitated to speak, for fear of breaking this magical moment between us when she seemed so receptive to my caresses. So, I moved my face away from her chest to observe her reactions carefully. For this first contact, I only passed my hand over her vagina and immediately felt her body tense with apprehension. I’d just had my answer; yes, Ashana had surely respected the precepts of the religion of the One God, and no, she’d never touched herself.

I immediately kissed her on the mouth to relax her, then whispered lovingly in her ear:

“I would like to touch you here, but if you find it too unpleasant, I will stop. Do you agree?”

While she was thinking, I placed a shower of kisses on her face.

“Yes,” she whispered in a voice hoarse with desire.

This time, I not only took off her pants, but also mine. She had a little navel that I found adorable; I kissed it and even gave it a little lick. Ashana shivered. Encouraged by this response, I traced a trail of fire down to her bush, and before she fully realized what I meant by “touching you here,” I flicked my tongue over her clitoris. Her reaction was immediate. My wife squeezed her thighs, without pushing me away. I carefully monitored to see what effect my caresses had on her.

And so, using all my knowledge and experience, I set about bringing her to orgasm. My body oscillated between tenderness and excitement—at its peak—as I heard her moans turn into screams, which she tried to stifle by biting her hand. I guessed she was reaching the ultimate pleasure when her clitoris contracted under my tongue and her body stiffened. Ashana called my name just as she climaxed. I felt great turmoil, mixed with love and pride. I was the one who had just given her her very first orgasm, and for me, it was the most priceless of gifts.

While she was still floating on the languorous cloud of her orgasm, I positioned myself slightly above her to kiss her, even though I still had her taste in my mouth. She accepted me without seeming repulsed by the idea. This excited me even more—as if that were possible!

I wanted to take advantage of the fact that her body was relaxed and open to pleasure to penetrate her. I wanted, as much as possible, to prevent her feeling pain, and from experience, I knew that this was the best time for that. With a delicacy that cost me physically, I placed my penis against her wet vagina.

When I realized she was about to open her eyes, I immediately buried my face in her neck. There was nothing human in my eyes, and it wasn’t dark enough in the house to hide this detail.

“May I?” I asked in a muffled tone of poorly contained desire.

What words? What wording would be appropriate?

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