He was a little slippery, but he felt divine, all of him, particularly the hardness still there that I felt pressing against the moist, sensitive part of me.

Still, even as I nuzzled his chest with my cheek, I said, “Not fair.”

He sounded bewildered (and his voice had a pleasing note of gruff), when he asked, “Not fair?”

I tipped my head up to look at him, seeing his bearded chin deep in his throat to look down at me, all his many piercings winking in the sunlight coming through the windows.

“I was supposed to please you.”

“You might have been climaxing when it happened, my queen, so perhaps you missed it. But you can rest assured that happened.”

“Yes, with you doing it to yourself as well as me.”

His mouth quirked. “Trust me, it was you doing it.”

“Was not.”

His lips curved. “It was.”

“Was not.”

He smiled blinding white. “It was, Silence.”

“It was supposed to be me making up for things,” I reminded him.

“I see you need to understand something,” he murmured.

Oh balls.

Not me understanding something more.

He drew me up his body so we were face to face and cupped the back of my head to bring us even closer.

“If there is ever a time when we are intimate, and I do not pleasure you, I have failed you,” he told me.

That was quite lovely.

Actually, beautiful.

However…

“There have been a number of times when we were intimate that I did not pleasure you, Mars,” I pointed out miserably.

“For you did not know how.”

“You were right earlier. I was being daft, thus thoughtless. I should have put it together.”

“You’ve had things on your mind.”

“And you are making excuses for me,” I grumbled.

“Silence.”

He said no more, so I asked, “What?”

“You must cease being so hard on yourself. You are glorious just the way you are. Those around you who are not blinded by their own faults see it clearly. It is only you who does not. I urge you to see yourself as I see you, amore, and have patience with yourself as I do, for I know you will be worth it. And I know this because you already are.”

I felt the need to weep at his words, but I did not give into it.

I lifted my hand to lay it against his bearded cheek and asked, “How is it that the fates gave me someone so marvelous?”

“I do not know the answer to that, even though I’ve often been asking myself the same thing.”

I felt my face crumble, and to hide it, I tucked it in his neck.

To fight back the tears, I mumbled, “Thank you for understanding.”

“Thank you, my bride, for liking my cock so much.”

I knew he was saying that to release the heaviness of our conversation.

And it worked.

I giggled.