All about Life and Passion Ch. 02

"Should I say? Should I say?" He started repeating with heavy breathing like he was mad at something.

"What is it you wanna say?" Delilah would scratch his neck with her fingers if not his skin that was stronger than platinum and regenerating in case of damage.

"The most stupid words... That I... That I love you!? "At his surprising announcement she opened her eyes to see the expression on his face but his face was so much mess of different emotions that she couldn't read anything from there. Just his extremely heavy breathing was telling her how he wanted her. She was sexually inspired by his words, smell of cigar mixed up with Hugo Boss perfume scents, and his eyes, his eyes that seemed to see intensively all her crazy desires through her eyeballs. She was expecting slower motions from him but all the sudden he started breathing deeper and tried to unbutton his own shirt, despite of that after unsuccessful trying he ripped it off and he was already between her legs when she wanted to stop him for awhile. His fingers ran down to her legs and lifted them up to give them rest on his shoulders. She was feeling like a tiny French doll under his powerful body and maybe it sounds crazy but she was feeling totally comfortable double bended in his surroundings when he was kissing her. She was so fermented that wanted to play with him, give him something as a present for changing her world so much, for helping her to forget the universe, even herself and devoting all the energy to joy and spicy senses with pain that bring the biggest, origin, pleasure.

She began pushing him back with her soft palms, he didn't understand the body language first but after her order: "Lay back, "he knew exactly what to do. Maybe in this moment he was a beast on full speed of hunting, but he knew perfectly it was better to obey her satisfaction - otherwise he wouldn't get one too. Real satisfaction comes only from exchanging feelings we lack.

He found himself comfortably chilling on the bed while she was following down his abs. That wet and flexible tongue, looking her down standing on four was giving him heavenly pleasure but holding on beast within him was getting harder and harder as she pulled his pants down and started fringing his Alexander with her lips and warm, cute tongue... or Alexander the Great as he loved to joke because of invading too many female territories. She was feeling the temperature of his skin was getting too hot already as she was sliding her wet lips up and down, rolling her tongue up to the top. She had to calm him down; she started crawling up to his chest, leaving her fingers down to continue stimulating his sensual controller. She was going to kiss him but bloated lodes on his body and his strong hands stopped her, made her to lift up one leg and she couldn't even pass ahead – Delilah was left on her knees and he was kissing her neck from behind. He started breathing faster and faster, her neck and throat again felt his strong fingers and she was on all her fours obeying his mightiness, he was breathing, she couldn't see his face but his lungs were making sounds of dragon breathing fire. He was so extremely turned on, couldn't wait for her to get undressed, besides half covered sexiness is much more intriguing; he just lifted her dress up, and after small spanking her ripped off underwear fell freely on her left thigh. Slowly but impatiently thrusting Alexander in and spirally moving his hips he was going deeper and deeper into her body, holding her hip with his right hand and with another one holding her neck to push her gently against himself. She felt so devoted to him as if she was her beloved wife responsible to give him all the pleasure he would desire. All the pleasure was doubling up after she started moving in synchrony with him, letting Alexander go deeper and faster. Dr. Darius was moving unstoppable and pleasing her, owning her was giving him not only pleasure but the peace too... The question was: he owned her or he owed her?! – And it's so amazing to have the right not to know the answer at some questions. Besides, for him it was pretty damn enough to know for sure that the orgasm he experienced when he pulled off Alexander, quelled all his rage and agony that could easily destroy or even kill him. He released her snatched hair, slowly sliding his fingers down to her spine, cleaned her with the torn shirt and laid down beside Delilah.

While Darius was looking for a pack of cigarettes in a pocket she sneaked up to him like a kitten and put his head on his chest. She couldn't feel more comfortable anywhere else than on his naked body, listening to Sinatra and his heartbeat at the same time... Heartbeat that was so strong and fast that only a heart in love could speed that rhythm. Charmed and conjured with his mysteriousness, she was intrigued and worried at the same time. Considering how intelligent he was there was no doubt it would be Mission Impossible to reveal his secrets. In reality, she didn't know anything about him. He didn't even have family portraits in the apartment; he was weird and meantime the most interesting: he captured her so fast, softly, and vulgarly that she was melting to bones on his temperature. She wanted more and more of his warm feelings and belonging to him. Entirely new world was opening for her on every his word and she was feeling free of previous pains and sadness while staying on his chest. "Maybe he is right? Maybe I really starve for his energy?" Just like many women she had billions of questions too but she was afraid to ask. She was afraid to spoil her biggest hope.

For the first time Darius didn't know what to do or what to think. Before he was so damn sure that he would never experience something similar again. And he didn't really care about the philosophy in that very moment: smoking a cigarette, petting her hair on his chest, rain outside and calmness was all he needed. And she was staying; obviously she didn't want to let his dream go.

The shroud of night scares us most of the time but sometimes there is fear worth of million daybreaks. And what may be ever compared to the feeling of self-satisfaction when you hug tight your dream and protect it, warm it up, caress it through dark, abandoned nights...