Page 67 of Deliah
And I knew I’d never be the same again.
The room was quiet now. Still. Our bodies were a tangle of heat and sweat and ragged breath. My skin felt electric—like I’d been rewired, every nerve still humming from the intensity of what just happened. He didn’t speak right away. Instead, he pulled out slowly, gently, and I winced at the emptiness. Then he leaned over me and brushed the hair from my face like I was something delicate. Breakable. Precious. He reached for a warm towel, cleaned me up carefully, quietly, his fingers soft against the bruises he’d just painted. Then he climbed into bed and gathered me into his arms, holding me against his chest like I was the most important thing in the world.
“You okay?” he asked, voice low, steady.
I nodded against his chest, my voice still caught somewhere between a whimper and a sigh. “Yeah… I think so.”
“You think so?” His fingers traced slow circles on my back. “Talk to me.”
I swallowed. My brain was fogged, but my heart was racing. “That was… intense.”
“Too much?”
“No,” I said quickly. “Not too much. Just… different. In a good way.”
He shifted slightly so he could look down at me. His hand cupped my cheek, thumb stroking just beneath my eye. “You’re safe, Deliah. Always. You need to say anything—good, bad, in-between—you say it. There’s no judgement here.”
I searched his face. No smugness. No satisfaction. Just calm. Concern. Care.
“I’ve never had anyone check in with me after sex before,” I admitted, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “Usually it’s zip up, fuck off, forget it happened.”
His jaw tensed slightly. “That’s not how this works. Not with me.”
“I know,” I whispered. “It felt different.”
He exhaled through his nose, nodding. “That’s what it’s supposed to be. Intense, yes. Raw, yes. But never harmful. Never hollow.”
I tucked my head under his chin, soaking in his warmth. “I didn’t expect to feel so… calm afterwards. Like I’ve just screamed all my demons out and now they’re finally quiet.”
“That’s why we do aftercare. Your body’s been through a lot. So has your mind. It’s not just about sex—it’s about what’s underneath it. The trust. The surrender. I take that seriously.”
His voice was like silk. Low, grounding. “And you were incredible,” he added, brushing his lips across my temple. “Obedient. Honest. Fiery as fuck, but still mine when it mattered.”
I smirked sleepily. “You sound surprised.”
“I’m not. Just happy.”
We lay there for a few minutes, letting the silence wrap around us like another layer of warmth. My heart was finally slowing. My body aching in all the best ways. Then I broke the quiet. “So…” I said slowly, stretching my legs out under the covers. “If I called you a smug bastard right now, would that undo all your praise?”
He chuckled, deep in his chest. “No. But it would earn you round two.”
My eyes fluttered open, a lazy grin spreading across my face. “Sounds good.”
He turned my face to his, lips brushing mine in the softest kiss of the night.
“Careful, baby girl,” he whispered. “Say one more bratty thing and I’ll show you just how good.”
And god help me—I hoped he would.
We spent the rest of the night tangled together, the storm of lust behind us, replaced now with something quieter. Safer. Warmer. His arm was draped over my waist, fingers lazily tracing circles against my bare hip as I lay curled into his chest. My leg hooked over his, skin still humming from everything that came before. We were quiet for a while—just breathing. Letting it all settle.
Then I laughed, sudden and light. “You’re fucking wild, by the way.”
His brow arched lazily. “Just figuring that out now?”
“No, I mean—throwing me over your shoulder like that? In front of everyone?”
He grinned. “You said you were ready.”
