He watched her sleep. Silky gold threads of hair fell across her face. Her face. Her heart-shaped, tiny face. Those rosebud lips, those eyes which sometimes seemed bluer than the sky. She smiled in her sleep. She seemed peace.

Her eyes opened gently and she took in the sight of him, standing imposingly in the doorway. "Mike?"

"Hi. Sorry. I was on my way to my room."

She looked at him with huge, sad eyes. "Mike..."

He took two steps to cover the distance between her bed and the door and knelt beside her. "Leila."

She turned her face away from him as if to forget that he sat next to her. He could see the tiny hairs on the back of her neck. He could smell the scent of her skin. Musky from sleep but fresh. Fresh, just like her.

"Leila, I love you." The words seemed so natural to him. It was the one truth in his life. The one constant in his world of flux and uncertainty. She squeezed her eyes shut and he ran his thumb over her cheekbone. He slid his arms under her small body and lifted her onto his lap. He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I love you more than anything in the world. I love you more than everything in the world put together."

A teardrop escaped her shut eyes. "You know I'm with Darryl."

Mike's muscles tensed. Darryl. Sophisticated, stylish Darryl, who loved Leila with an odd passion that left scars on her mind and bruises on her body.

"I know." His lips grazed her eyelids. He lifted her into his arms and stood up, her legs swaying in the air. He opened the door to the terrace and stood on the cold wooden floor, the Chicago wind blowing against his face. Releasing herself from his awkward embrace, she walked to the railing, her flimsy white dress twirling in the wind. He grabbed her wrist and turned her around, lifting her chin up so that she was forced to stare into his eyes. "Leila."


He slowly sank to his knees. He only had to crane his head a little to look her in the eye. "I want you, Leila. Marry me."

Her lips parted in shock. He closed his eyes and leaned into her, kissing her thigh just below the hem of her dress. He let his lips linger, his palms closing around her knees and bringing her closer to him. She put her hands on her shoulders and tried to push him away. "Stop it, Mike."

Mike looked up, then, at her slightly pink, perfect face. "Please, Leila..." He kissed her knee softly. Her eyes closed. "Please let me love you." He saw her nod, almost imperceptibly. Within a second, he had gathered her in his arms and brought her back to the bed, gently laying her on the mattress. He slid to the bottom of the bed and brought her foot to his mouth. Kissing her toe, he whispered, "You are flawless." His mouth closed around her toes. He heard a slight moan escape her mouth and began licking the sole of her foot, grazing the heel with his teeth.

He moved up, kissing her knees, her thighs. "Your thighs are so milky, Leila. They are white and perfect and delicious." He sucked the tender flesh just below her dress, his hands on her shoulders. She hesitated when he tried to take off her dress, but he silenced her with his lips. "Leila. I will love you everywhere tonight." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as he pulled her dress over her head, leaving her naked body glistening in the moonlight.

He felt his head become light. "Wow..." he whispered. He touched her navel with his fingers. "That looks so tasty, Leila. You are so exquisite." He plunged his tongue into her navel. When she moaned, his hands moved up to her breasts. They were round and white and big for her tiny frame, with soft pink tips that pointed straight up. He moaned in pleasure. "Your breasts are beautiful. Do you know that, Leila?" His hands closed around her left breast and squeezed, the flesh smooth and even under his fingers. "Mike, please don't..." she whispered half-heartedly. He felt a lump in his throat as he imagined how readily she must give herself to Darryl, how reluctant she was to let him -- Mike -- love her. He squeezed again, gently, bringing his right hand to her nipple, sighing as it hardened. "Your nipples are perfect. Perfect," he breathed.

She didn't respond. His lips parted for her breasts, his tongue flicking at her nipples. He closed her mouth around her left areola and sucked, feeling her body tense. "Your breasts taste so good, Leila. Do you want a taste?" He heaved himself on top of her and gently let his tongue into her mouth. Putting his finger in his mouth, he wet her lips with his saliva. At the sight of her sucking on his tongue, he moaned into her mouth and softly bit her lower lip with his. His hands travelled between her legs, slowly parting them.

He lowered his head and smelled the region between her legs. It smelled heavy and sweet. Her pubic area was covered with thick blonde hair. He tentatively stroked the furry golden strands, soft with her sweat. Tangling his fingers through it, he opened his mouth and pulled at a clump gently with his teeth. The hair tasted of her -- erotic and lovely. He slid his tongue across it, hearing her groan in guilty pleasure.

"Put your legs on my shoulders, Leila," he whispered, and felt her obey, her tiny feet curling onto his shoulders. He closed his eyes as he put his face between her legs, savouring her sweet aroma. He opened his eyes to see her white, swollen lips glistening with liquid. He placed his palm between her legs, covering her crotch. It was damp. "You're wet, Leila." He looked up to see her close her eyes. He slowly pulled her lips apart, exposing the tiny pink bump between them. Sliding his finger across it, he gripped her buttocks as he raised her above the bed, bringing her crotch to his face. His tongue peeked out to touch her naked flesh and her body reacted violently as she gripped the sheets. He licked her labia gently before coming to rest on her clitoris, kissing it softly, again and again. He put his finger in his mouth, taking care to wet it well, and began pushing it into her slowly, feeling her tightness resist. "So tight, Leila."

"I know. I'm sorry," she whispered. His head shot up. "Sorry? You are perfect." His finger was almost all the way in. He pulled it out gently and eased his tongue into the opening, her muscles clenching. She tasted exquisite to him. He looked up at her then, his tongue still in her vagina, his hands massaging her buttocks. She lay motionless, her arms gripping the bedposts. Slowly, she opened her eyes. "Mike, I need to go to the bathroom."

He moaned into her vagina as he imagined her urinating. Easing his tongue out of her hole, he whispered, "Do it here."

Her face contorted in shock and disgust. "What?"

"Urinate here. When I said that every part of you is perfect, I meant it, Leila." She lay her head back on the pillow in resignation, and for one awful moment, he thought that she would try to hold it or go to the bathroom. But then he saw a trickle of golden, pungent liquid pool between her legs. Positioning himself between her legs, he opened his mouth for the next spurt, and sure enough, it flowed in -- warm and salty. After she was done, he licked her clean, leaving a trail of saliva across her thighs and crotch.

"Mike..I..." But she never completed her sentence, because the front door slammed right that second and she turned to him in terror. Pulling her dress over her head quickly, she snatched the bedcover and snuggled inside, whispering at him frantically to go away. He remained motionless for a few moments, after which he stood up heavily and walked to the door. Darryl entered the room, nodded at Mike and retreated to the bathroom to change his clothes without giving Leila so much as a glance. Mike bowed his head and shuffled out of the room, cocking his head, hearing Mike enter Leila's bed and make fast, rash love to her as she moaned and cried out in pain and pleasure. When they were done, he heard him rip her dress apart. "Darryl!" she squealed softly, just before the slaps started to pour down, and Mike, her bodyguard, stood outside helplessly.

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