He pumps them in and out slowly, rubbing my clit with his palm as arousal seeps out from around his fingers, my body and brain on two dreadfully different wavelengths. More tears fall as he snickers, if you can call a bitter sound like that anything close to laughter, extracting himself to show me my body’s betrayal. “You can deny it all you want, but your body is telling me a different story. It knows it needs me.” The words sound like a prayer from his lips. A vow.
