04-06-2017, 10:47 AM
“Stop,” he told her, “you’re not making sense,” and he wasn’t wrong. Words were pouring out of her mouth without conscious thought, tripping and stumbling and rushing to explain something she didn’t understand herself. But he’d asked her, and she was trying. God, she was trying.
So she listened. She stopped talking, stopped trying to make a damn bit of sense out of what was happening inside her, what was happening between them, and just listened to her Zor, letting him hold her gaze, letting him be her anchor with his eyes and his voice if not his touch.
“I love you, Diz,” he told her, and her heart eased. She hadn’t broken everything, not yet, not entirely. “I love you and I’m going to be here.” They’d get it right, they’d do better than their parents had, and they’d do it together. It was going to be okay. “No matter who you go and fuck.”
She pulled back, startled at the words, at the flatness of his tone even as he tried to smile, tried to lighten the words into nothing important. A joke, a little teasing between siblings. Not a slap in the face, not a loaded barb, no jealousy there, not with that half-smile, really. Her stomach clenched, her eyes briefly clouding with hurt and confusion. He’d never given a damn before. Who she’d touched, who she’d tasted, who she’d fucked. Hell, more than once he’d watched Dovev taking her and it had only made him hotter, made him hungry for more.
But then, she’d never left him wanting before, never turned aside his advances, never failed to go up in flames right along with him. And she hadn’t just left him, she’d left for more than a month, not a word of goodbye, not a single explanation. She’d fucked up, no denying it. She’d hurt him.
God, she never wanted to hurt him.
“Okay,” she murmured, nodding as he trailed kisses up her neck. Maybe he was right. Maybe it wasn’t Dov, maybe it was the way he’d touched her. Maybe she could be with Zor the same way, feel the same way with him. Why should it only be Dov who could love her like that, only Dov she could strip herself bare and fall into with ragged breath and trembling limbs and a racing heart, shaking and aching and yearning to give everything she was to him. Every fragile, jagged, fucked up piece of herself.
Maybe she could be that way with Zor too. She had to try. She had to know. So instead of pulling back, she bared the line of her throat to his soft lips, letting him taste, letting him touch, letting him teach her all over again how it could be between them. “Okay, Zoryn. Show me.”
So she listened. She stopped talking, stopped trying to make a damn bit of sense out of what was happening inside her, what was happening between them, and just listened to her Zor, letting him hold her gaze, letting him be her anchor with his eyes and his voice if not his touch.
“I love you, Diz,” he told her, and her heart eased. She hadn’t broken everything, not yet, not entirely. “I love you and I’m going to be here.” They’d get it right, they’d do better than their parents had, and they’d do it together. It was going to be okay. “No matter who you go and fuck.”
She pulled back, startled at the words, at the flatness of his tone even as he tried to smile, tried to lighten the words into nothing important. A joke, a little teasing between siblings. Not a slap in the face, not a loaded barb, no jealousy there, not with that half-smile, really. Her stomach clenched, her eyes briefly clouding with hurt and confusion. He’d never given a damn before. Who she’d touched, who she’d tasted, who she’d fucked. Hell, more than once he’d watched Dovev taking her and it had only made him hotter, made him hungry for more.
But then, she’d never left him wanting before, never turned aside his advances, never failed to go up in flames right along with him. And she hadn’t just left him, she’d left for more than a month, not a word of goodbye, not a single explanation. She’d fucked up, no denying it. She’d hurt him.
God, she never wanted to hurt him.
“Okay,” she murmured, nodding as he trailed kisses up her neck. Maybe he was right. Maybe it wasn’t Dov, maybe it was the way he’d touched her. Maybe she could be with Zor the same way, feel the same way with him. Why should it only be Dov who could love her like that, only Dov she could strip herself bare and fall into with ragged breath and trembling limbs and a racing heart, shaking and aching and yearning to give everything she was to him. Every fragile, jagged, fucked up piece of herself.
Maybe she could be that way with Zor too. She had to try. She had to know. So instead of pulling back, she bared the line of her throat to his soft lips, letting him taste, letting him touch, letting him teach her all over again how it could be between them. “Okay, Zoryn. Show me.”