Chapter 7
Abandoning talk, I placed my hand across that broad chest. He did not flinch or call out. I touched his cheek, astonished at the purity of the skin. His face was virtually free of a beard. Gradually—as slowly as my failing self-discipline allowed—I explored every inch of his fascinating body before giving both of us relief. And such sweet relief it was. At least for me. I could not discern his feelings on the matter. Yet his sigh signaled contentment to my ears as he made himself more comfortable on the blanket.
Awed and excited, I sought confirmation of this, hoping it was something other than involuntary muscular contractions. I pressed my lips against his. He failed to respond. I peered at him so closely our noses touched. I kissed his eyes, moved back to his lips, and had my answer. He felt nothing. Disappointed, I muttered apologies and begged forgiveness, though whether from a disapproving God or this reluctant lover, I could not say.