He steps forward, or I do. It doesn’t matter. Our bodies collide as he buries his hands in my hair, pulling me closer to him as though he’s trying to meld us into one. We get lost in a moment that takes us to a place where the past and future are irrelevant—they don’t exist. And it feels a little like falling. A lot like flying. Crashing on the ground. Dancing in the clouds. A cage and an open sky. The light of a thousand lamps illuminating the dark night.
He lowers his face and traces my jawline, my cheekbones—everywhere—with his lips, his hands, showering me with urgent, punishing kisses that leave a searing trail behind them. “Tell me to go,” he urges, his voice vibrating with intensity. “Tell me to leave you alone.”
“I can’t.” My entire body shakes with the enormity of what’s happening. Finally, finally, it cries. The feel of his lips on my skin drives me mad as want, yearning, need all morph into one. “I can’t lie to you.”
“You must. Don’t you see? Can’t you see how much I want you? How much I need you? I can’t fucking breathe when you’re around.” Sébastien’s hands tremble as his gaze falls to my lips then looks up, meeting my eyes again. He pauses, his hold turning intense, deep passion vibrating in his voice. “I have no right to touch you, to crave you as much as I do, but God help me, I can’t stop. I’ve tried to do the right thing, but I can’t anymore. You’re all I can think about. I feel like I’m going mad if I don’t see you, if I’m not touching you. Yet when you’re here with me, it’s never enough. Not fucking enough.”
Then he presses his mouth to mine. And it’s a savage exchange. A pent up beast finally let loose, kissing me as madly and wantonly as I feel. We go to war. No idea how we make it inside my apartment. He pushes me or I push him against the door. It doesn’t matter. I laugh, he laughs. We are all tongues and mouths and hands. He kisses me like he’s dying and my lips are his last breath. It’s a kiss that rearranges the stars in my own little galaxy, setting my life in a new course, changing my destiny. And if I crash and burn like a falling star, what does it matter when for this brief instant I’m in his arms? For the first time in a very long time, there isn’t ice inside of me. Instead, there’s a bright, hot, blazing fire.
I should ask him to stop, but I can’t bring myself to utter one word. Instead, I let his sweet breath inebriate me as his touch crumbles my defenses along with my reason. I begin to shake with warring shame and pleasure when his fingers slide the straps of my sundress off my shoulders, slowly exposing my skin to him. The back of his fingers caress the curve of my shoulder, tracing the goose bumps now covering my skin.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Valentina. What are you doing to me? I’m jealous of the sun because it touches your skin when I can’t. I’m jealous of every man that came before me,” he breathes between lovely, lovely kisses that take and demand and mark me as his. Sébastien grabs my ass, desperation making his movements forceful. He pulls me close, grinding his growing hardness against me. I moan as he imprints the hot outline of his cock between my legs, showing me how much he wants me. Urgency and desire take over, making every movement frenzied, more needy, more, more, and more.
Sébastien pushes my dress down, exposing my small breasts to his view. I know I should feel some sort of shame, but my head and pride are gone. “Darkness is around me until I see you. Then it’s colors. Bright, bright colors I can’t describe,” I say shakily as my body screams for him, wantonly begging for him to take me. A moan passes my lips when Sébastien buries his face in my breasts, sucking my pebbled nipples into his mouth, rolling the tips with his tongue, sending shooting stars through me. It all becomes too much, too intense, too beautiful.
His mouth is everywhere on me, etching himself deeper on my skin. Lowering his hand, he slides it under the material of my dress, running his fingers against the gusset of my wet lacy thong. He teases me. He torments me. Cursing, he slips the thin, wet fabric to the side and finds my clit swollen for him. He rubs it nice and slow as he tears moans out of me, making every cell sing.
“Fuck … that sound is so damn addictive.”
I bury my hands in his hair and throw my head back, combusting from within as he plays me like a maestro, creating a harmonious symphony with my savaged body. I lick my dry lips, swallowing hard, trying to breathe, but my lungs are all out of air. And when I don’t think I can handle any more of his beautiful torture, he sinks two fingers deep inside me where I need him the most, where I burn for him the most. He begins to pump in and out of me mercilessly, driving me closer to a blinding, exploding climax. His kisses and touches turn more demanding, and I give him everything he asks for. But when he unzips his pants, and I feel the head of his cock against my entrance, everything is brought to a screeching halt.
“No … I can’t … stop …” I push him away yet hold onto the front of his shirt, afraid to let him go. “Not that.”
He curses and lifts his burning eyes to me, need and hunger shining in them. The room could be on fire, and I wouldn’t even notice. It wouldn’t matter. Frozen and breathless, my legs can barely hold me straight as Sébastien takes deep breaths wrenched from his chest.
Drowning in emotion and guilt, I hold onto his shoulders for support. “I want it all,” I say, breathing hard. “Everything with you. But I can’t do that to my husband. Not while I’m still married to him.”
“I don’t give a fuck about him.” He takes my hand in his and places it on top of his heart. “Feel this? Does it feel wrong to you?” He grabs my head, pulling me closer to him, and kisses me hard. Breathlessly. “And what about this? Because ma petite chouette, it hasn’t felt this fucking right to me in a very long time.”
I shake my head, unable to utter a coherent thought. My conscience is at odds with my heart. I reach for his wrist, kissing his hand. “I can’t. Please understand that.”
“Why, Valentina? He isn’t here with you. I am.”
“I know you are, you beautiful man.” But I can’t begin something with you when … “I’m married. It would make me no better than him. And you deserve better.”
I feel like I’m standing at a crossroads with one foot in the present and the other in the past. One road leads to William and the life we’ve built. The other leads to Sébastien and the unknown. I know which road I want to take, but I can’t fully turn my back on the other until that path has been closed.
“Then what do you call what’s been happening between us?”
“I don’t know … dreaming?”
“It hasn’t been a fucking dream to me, Valentina. Not to me,” he says, hurt in his eyes. “I’m falling for you for fuck’s sake.” He tries to take a step back. “I can’t do this now.”
“I’m so sorry.” I let go of his wrist and wrap my arms around him as though trying to absorb him into me, desperation driving my every move. “I’ll deal with this. I promise I’ll make it right.”