Rena
"Do you ever not wear the same expression?"
"It is just my face."
•••
She pounced.
She didn't know exactly why she did such a thing, only that it was happening and she couldn't go back now.
One slender hand found purchase in his luscious locks while the other snaked behind his neck, pulling his face to hers and she shivered when she saw his flushed, heated expression.
Her eyes were squinted as she stared at his face, her body plopped on his fallen frame as her tongue slithered past his lips and into his mouth, hot and sticky.
Zayle gasped, one of his hands grabbing at her waist as she pressed her lips harder against his.
More, more, more...
She couldn't get enough of his mouth, his taste.
Her body felt as if it were on fire, something she'd only ever heard of in books. She wanted more of it, tugging his head back as he let out a breathy whimper.
It sent a thrill throughout her body.
"Zayle..." Her voice was high with lust, desperate for his touch. His hands roamed, trembling and almost feathery down her back before hovering over her bottom.
Waiting.
She stared at his hesitant eyes, pausing as she pulled back just enough to give him air.
"Rena..." Hot and quiet. It warmed her stomach.
"Rena..." His hands slowly held her flesh, touching and massaging the skin tenderly, as if feeling the meat out.
"Wake up."
"Fuck!"
Her face was the color blue.
She was sat up on her misty bed once more, her hand puncturing a small hole through the clouds as the other ran through her tangled curls.
She wanted to curse him out, curse him for leaving after dumping such a random confession on her.
Now she was all hot and bothered, and she could do absolutely nothing about it.
There was an ache in between her legs, one that she used to love with a fiery passion. Now, she scowled whenever she felt the red, hot desire flooding through her being.
Because she could shit about it.
A loud, annoyed sigh left her as she pulled her fist from it's indent, a small pout lying at her lips as she stared at her lap.
She felt...
Defeated.
Her brows knitted together as the word crossed her mind.
No, not defeated...
She felt a mix of defeation and rejection.
She felt as if he regretted telling her those words.
It brought a solemn ache in her chest, one that put a sorrowful expression on the bubbly woman's face.
She hands itched to write something. To dispose of her staggering feelings.
YOU ARE READING
Knowing Zayle
FantasyI'll tell you now. This is a tale of Heaven. Of ancient God's and history. Of lust, power and trickery. Of control, betrayal, and secrecy. A tale of time and life. One woman, two beings. One woman, one is keening. She is the key, the final piece...
