Page 23 of Cherished By the BRATVA Grump

I nod, finally able to lift my hand onto his knee.

“What do you want your future to look like?” I ask.

He thinks about it for a moment while he spoons fruit into my mouth.

“I want to make you happy,” he says. “In every way, not just with sex. Making you happy makes me happy.”

“Is that why you wanted me to be loud?”

He shrugs. “I like knowing I’m making you feel good.” He spoons the last of the yogurt into my mouth and puts the bowl and spoon on the bedside table. “You really are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

I blush and he laughs a little. It’s a nice laugh. Deep and rich and I want to hear it more.

“What would you like to do today?” he finally asks.

“I’m not sure there’s much I can do.”

“It hurts that much, huh?” he asks, standing from the bed and padding through to the bathroom. He returns with a washcloth and presses it between my legs.

“You should let me do this, too much risk that we’ll go again if I let you do it.”

Instead of moving his hand away, he presses harder with the heel of his hand, then through to the tips of his fingers. “I can’t,” I say honestly, even though my body jerked in response. “I want to get used to the size of you, but it’s going to take some time, and I’ve already come so much today that I’m concerned my clit will stop working if we go again.”

He laughs again at that.

“We have plenty of time,” he says, clearly not just talking about today. “So,” he adds, removing the washcloth, turning it over, and pressing it back to me. “What does this look like going forward for you?”

I bring my knees up, parted so he can continue holding the warm cloth against me.

“Well, like I said earlier. I’ve never really done a relationship, so I’m not sure what it should look like. I’d like to think we’d spend a lot of time together. Get to know each other. You know. All that stuff.”

He pulls the washcloth away from me and drops it on the bedside table beside my empty breakfast bowl.

“What about work, is that important to you?” he asks, coming to sit beside me. He turns onto his side and puts his hand over my mound.

“To an extent. I was never very clever at school. Dance was the only thing I was ever good at. Maybe one day I could look at opening a studio or something, but I don’t feel like I’m in a rush. Is that a dealbreaker for you? Would you want me to work?”

“I want you to be happy, and I have enough money for both of us. So any money you earned would be yours anyway. What about marriage?”

“What about it?” I ask, stroking my hand over his shoulder and down his arm.

“Is it something you would like in the future?”

I slide my hand over his and press, enjoying the tiny thrill it sends through me. “Maybe,” I admit. “But right now I just want to get my head to the same place my body is.”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

I sigh. “Well. My body is all in. Wants forever with you. Is very much attracted to you. Doesn’t mind what you do for a living. But my brain is still stuck on the unknowns.”

He nods slowly. “I think I understand what you’re saying. But I can’t change who I am and what I’ve done. If it helps, the last person I had…dealings with, was someone who was preparing to attack Delilah, and was responsible for several other local attacks on women.”

My mom’s words rush into my mind, not everything is black and white.

I suppose everything is a spectrum.

“What does your gut say?” he asks me after a few minutes of silence. “Your brain says no, your cunt,” he presses his hand against me again, “says yes. But what about your gut?”

Love or fear. That’s what he said earlier. And I know if I feared this man I would feel it in my gut, and I never actually have.