Page 116 of Ascension

I obeyed instantly, my hand moving to the length of her strap, slick with my pleasure. I stroked her with reverence, with hunger, my palm guided by the rhythm of her hips as she slid down onto me. Her heat, her strength, her ownership, it was everything.

“Look at you,” she whispered, grinding against me, each thrust deeper, slower, more intense. “Fucking me so well, making yourself useful.”

I could barely breathe, could barely hold on.

“You make my dick feel like it belongs here,” she moaned. “You were made to take it. And now you’re going to come for me, aren’t you?”

“Yesssss,” I groaned, “Please, Mistress. I’m so close.”

“Then come with me,” she whispered, leaning in, lips brushing mine. “Now.”

I shattered beneath her, the climax ripping through me like lightning, and in that moment, her body tensed, her own release cresting as we moved together, our sounds tangled and breathless.

She didn’t just fuckme; this fucking woman owned me, and I loved every second of it.

The room was quiet now.

The heat, the cries, the sharp slaps of skin and leather had faded into something softer. The air still thrummed with tension, but it was no longer taut; it was warm, vibrating low like a lullaby.

Calla moved first. She gently unstrapped herself, set everything aside, and came back to us without the armor. Just her, just Calla. She slid beside me on one side, Amiyah curling into me on the other.

My chest was still rising too fast. My body ached in the best ways, but my mind was struggling to catch up. I'd given everything, every piece of me, and they were still here, holding me.

Calla’s fingers brushed through my waves, her nails grazing my scalp just enough to soothe. “You did so well,” she whispered, her voice low and reassuring. “You gave us everything, baby.”

I couldn’t speak at first; my throat was tight, not with pain, but with something heavier and more profound.

Amiyah kissed my shoulder. “You don’t even know how sexy it is to see you like that,” she said softly. “A man who knows who he is. So confident, so powerful that he can relinquish control, and not lose anything, but gain something more.”

She looked up at me, her eyes glassy with emotion. “To let yourself be led to a kind of pleasure that transcends the body… that elevates the mind, the soul? That takes strength most people don’t even understand.”

Her words destroyed the wall I was trying to build.

Calla pressed her lips to my jaw. “She’s right. It takes power to trust like that. It takes a man, a real man, to offer himself so openly. And you did, holding nothing back.”

Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, and I didn’t fight them. I let them fall, let them carve truth into my cheeks.

“I’ve never felt so seen,” I whispered. “So safe. I didn’t know I needed that until you gave it to me.”

Calla wrapped her arms around me tighter. “And we’ll keep giving it to you as long as you need. As long as you want.”

Amiyah nodded, her hand resting over my heart. “You’re ours. Just like we’re yours.”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was everything.

We lay there tangled in each other, the firelight flickering low, no more masks, no more roles, just love, raw and whole.

Eventually, Calla rose and extended a hand to me, then to Amiyah. “Come on,” she said, voice soft but sure. “Let’s clean up. You both deserve more than just my words.”

The en suite bathroom was already dimly lit, steam curling up from a deep soaking tub she must’ve started filling earlier. The scent of eucalyptus and something warm, maybe amber or cedar, drifted in the air. She helped me first, then guided Amiyah in after me, both of us sinking into the heat as if it were holy.

We didn’t talk at first. We didn’t need to. The water cradled us, loosening what little tension remained. Calla sat behind me and pulled me gently between her thighs, letting my back rest against her chest. She washed me slowly, thoroughly, her hands reverent and firm.

“Don’t want you sore in the wrong ways,” she whispered against my ear. “Only the good kind of ache.”

Amiyah helped, too, kneeling beside the tub and kissing my temple while rinsing my shoulders. The love in her touch matched the peace in Calla’s.

After the bath, Calla helped dry us both, patting my skin gently, and led me to the bed. She retrieved a jar from her overnight bag, a thick, fragrant balm. She warmed it between her palms before starting at my shoulders, massaging it into my muscles with slow, soothing circles.