Page 42 of Saviour
You’re not here with Maxwell. He’s not touching you. Whispering to you.
It’s Dax, and so far, he’s given me no reason not to trust him.
“Rori, you’re so beautiful. So brave,” he whispers and I whimper, scrunching my eyes tight. I don’t want to be weak. I don’t want to never have intimacy with somebody because I can’t let go of the hold Maxwell has on me. It was never an issue before, but now I want it. With Dax, I want it.
“Open your eyes, Birdie.”
I open them slowly and when I see Dax staring at me with concern but care, I know he means what he said.
“I’m okay,” I say again, taking in a deep breath and kissing him passionately, at the same time wiggling out the tight material on my legs. “I’m okay, Dax, I promise.”
I will not let Maxwell beat me.
I kick my leggings off once they reach my ankles and replace my leg back over Dax’s hip. His hand trails back towards my pussy and once again, he gently slides his hand underneath my pink cotton underwear and slips a finger right between my folds.
His finger moves slowly up and down, rubbing soft circles against my clit, and I moan at the pleasure, rolling my hips to meet his thumb.
“I want more, Dax,” I whimper into his neck and with slow, sensual strokes, Dax’s finger slides lower until he’s resting at my entrance. “Give me more. I want to know how it’s supposed to feel.”
And with that, Dax breaches my entrance, slowly slipping his finger into me, and I moan softly, moving my hips with him. His finger moves expertly, and after a few seconds, the achy pain is gone and he starts to speed up.
I breathe loudly and grip his bicep hard, feeling the rhythm of his arm as he moves his finger in and out of me.
“I’m gonna use another finger, Birdie,” he whispers but still looks into my eyes, waiting for my permission. I nod and prepare for the burn, but I’m so wet that when he slips his finger in, I get used to it quite quickly.
I stare at his tattooed chest and travel my eyes lower to his nipple piercing, and before I can even consider what I’m doing, I lean down and lick, and Dax slightly jumps.
“Sorry,” I say timidly, for catching him off guard.
“Fuck, don’t say sorry, Rori, do it again,” he groans. So I do.
I lick his nipple, feeling the cold metal on my tongue, and my head then starts to go dizzy.
“I think, I think I’m close,” I whimper because even though I’ve never experienced this before, I know this build-up isn’t leading to nothing. And with that, Dax’s thumb rubs against my clit at the same time his fingers work in and out of me. I uncontrollably try to move my hips with him, chasing my orgasm until it builds and builds and all of a sudden, that euphoric sensation bursts. My head spins and the butterflies in my stomach erupt.
I bite down on Dax’s nipple, trying to stifle my moans, and Dax moans right along with me as I chase my high.
Dax slows his fingers and eventually comes to a stop, leaving them inside me with my release around them.
“That’s how it’s supposed to feel, Birdie. And that’s how it’s always gonna feel from now on, you understand?”
Tears slip past my eyelids at the overwhelming emotions floating through me from my first orgasm and my first enjoyable, consensual sexual experience, but also from Dax’s words. He kisses my eyes and my free falling tears and gently pulls his fingers out, kissing me through the slight sting.
I look down at his fingers, shining with my release, and feel embarrassed, but then I notice the bulge in his pants and feel like I fucked up.
“Umm, shall I? Do you want me to?” I stutter and Dax just smiles, shaking his head.
“This wasn’t about me, Birdie. Besides…” He pulls his fingers up to his mouth and sucks off my release. I’m mortified but also completely turned on. “Maybe you can just watch me again.”
Rori has been sleeping in my bed every night for a week since she caught me jacking off and we had that crazy intimate moment together. A week since I touched her, smelt her,tasted her.
She’s slept next to me, curled up in a ball for seven whole nights, but I haven’t been able to go near her since and it’s driving me crazy. I know she has trauma, just how much I’m not sure I'll ever know, but I want to be the one to show her. Show her what life can be like. Issupposedto be like.
Rori doesn’t need fixing. She just needs saving. And I’m going to do everything in my power to be her saviour.
I’m giving her time and space. What happened a week ago has unlocked some scary memories for her, memories I’m starting to piece together on why she’s alone. Rori is running from someone, and I’m going to find out who and fucking kill them.
Our days fall back into old routines, training, eating, training, walking, training. Rori loves the gym and even though she doesn’t learn a lot, she just enjoys beating the punching bag. She’s always chanting the same words, the same rhythm. But I don’t mind seeing her all sweaty, her plaits sticking to her neck, the sports bras she’s started donning with tiny shorts.
