Worship

“I worship your nipples, from which the milk of life flows.  Your kiss is honey and your touch scorches like fire, and I worship it.”  His words are becoming more rhythmic now, keeping pace with the thrust and roll of their bodies.  “Bring me your lust in the morning, and bring me relief and your blessing in the evening.  Let me walk in dark places unharmed and let me come to you once more and sleep beside you and make love with you again.  I worship you with everything that is within me, and everything inside my mind, with everywhere I’ve been and my dreams and my…” he breaks off, panting for breath. “What are you doing?  That feels amazing.  So amazing…”  and he looks down at his hips, at the place were the two of them conjoin, but her forefinger touches his chin and pushes his head back, so he is looking only at her face and at the ceiling once again.

– A short man to Bilquis, page 29, Chapter One, Part One: Shadows, American Gods by Neil Gaiman

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