Saffron by Taige Crenshaw and Aliyah Burke Page B

within her.
    In the dark of the room, he learned her body by smell and taste. Her taste was unique, exotic and something he couldn’t place. He laved along her collarbone, alternating with sharp bites of his teeth, only to lick the sting away. Her fingers dug into his back as he continued to pleasure her.
    It didn’t take Damian long to reach the peak of his pleasure. As her muscles tightened around him, he knew she was near her release as well. His speed and depth increased with each pounding thrust. One final plunge and he erupted within her body, coating her womb with his semen as his yell filled the room.
    Exhausted, both emotionally and physically, Damian was careful as he withdrew from her body and spooned them together. His lips touched her temple as he kissed her tenderly. “Don’t leave me this time,” he muttered as he sank into the plush mattress beside her, holding her as tightly as he could without hurting her.
     
    Beep. Beep. Beep .
    His fingers slammed on the alarm, shutting off the intrusive sound. “Damn it,” he swore as he opened his eyes. Alone. It had been nothing but a dream. Rolling into a damp spot on his bed, he realised it’d apparently been a very vivid dream. “What the hell is going on with me?”
    Swinging his feet over to the floor, Damian ran a hand over his stubble-covered face before he stumbled, exhausted, into the shower. Many more nights like this and he was going to be absolutely useless.
    For the past two months, the dreams had been becoming more frequent and intense, making it hard for him to remember it was just a dream, and not real. This mysterious woman had become an obsession to him. He had no idea what she looked like, who she was or anything like that. All he knew was her smell, touch and voice. That alone was enough to turn him into a randy college student as opposed to the mature thirty-eight year old professor of the small yet respected college. As he stood under the spray of his showerhead, he wondered if maybe he was losing his grip on reality.
    “Maybe all I need to do is go out and get laid,” he spoke to the emptiness of his shower. Either way, he was doing way too many loads of laundry to keep his sheets clean. Still, the memory of his dream filled him and began to lengthen his cock. Without hesitation, he soaped his hand and began stroking himself. Longing for her touch, he allowed his mind to create the feel he had experienced with her. His hand moved faster and faster until he spurted his come all over the shower wall.
    Damian scrubbed his body until he was content there was no lingering sign of sex on him. Climbing out, he wrapped a towel around his waist and used another to dry his thick, black hair. He stripped his bed and remade it quickly. Well, I am learning how to make a bed in seconds, that’s for sure.
    Moving through his apartment, Damian looked over the artefacts he had collected over the years. As his gaze touched each one, he noticed that a few of them seemed to be in better condition than he recalled.
    Draping the extra towel over one shoulder, he moved towards the statue that currently held his attention. Picking it up carefully, he knew something was different. When he had acquired the small sculpture, it had been missing the left hand and the Ankh—or Egyptian cross as it was also known, which had a loop at the top—it was rumoured to hold. The one he held now was complete. There was an Ankh in the left hand and the chipped-off black varnish that had covered the wood was refurbished and shone with an illustriousness that amazed him.
    Sekhmet was complete.
    Setting the figurine of the goddess down, Damian backed away with a mixture of disbelief and extreme hope it wasn’t just his imagination and returned to his room to dress. “I’m seeing things. I know that now, because there is no way a statue from around 2600 BC could restore itself.”
    Rushing, Damian got ready for his day and left his apartment without looking at the statue