Beyond shame

I stayed still on the bed, looking at the place where he had been, his scent still in the air. His words played in my mind: "When you're ready to accept it, I'll take you." The thought of him coming back was both scary and exciting. I felt like a moth drawn to a flame, unable to resist the dangerous pull of the fire. With shaky hands, I touched myself, feeling the dampness. It was new yet strangely familiar after he had touched me. I had never felt this way before, my body alive with need. He had awakened something in me, a craving I didn't know I had. Now that I was aware of it, I couldn't ignore it. I slid a finger inside me, the feeling bringing waves of pleasure. I bit my lip to keep quiet, wishing it were his fingers instead. I closed my eyes and imagined him touching me, his mouth on my skin, whispering to me. My hand moved faster, following the rhythm he had set. It felt like he had marked me in the most private way. I wondered if I would ever feel this way with someone else, if