Double fire🔥

//55//: Adieu

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My flight was set to take off by 2:00am tonight. Coach Camila and I were taking the first flight to Los Angeles. The recreational center would be managed and handled by some of our entrusted people.

I stared at my entire bedroom before taking a step in. I walked into my gigantic walk in closet which held thousands of clothes in it, then to the beautiful king sized bed, then my adorable en-suite which I am so gonna miss. I shut the windows and blinds, the bathroom and the walk-in closet.

Grabbing a single purse which contained my phone, passport and some other important things, I clapped my hands together as the lights went out then closed the door to my room.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't leave without having a glimpse of Farooq. I just couldn't. I don't care whether he's going to ignore me or lash out on me or even ask me to get out, I just want to see him one last time. Just once and that's it.

I dropped my purse on the stool in the corridor then removed my shoes too, so he wouldn't suspect anything.

I didn't bother knocking because I was dead sure he wasn't going to reply so I just opened the door and ambled inside. He was seated on the bed. His back was against the headboard of the bed, while his legs were crossed straight on the bed. He was wearing a simple black shirt which was tight displaying his muscular body, and a grey sweatpants.

By the looks of it, I woke him up from his sleep.

I've never felt so dumb in my life.

I had no idea what to do or what to say.

The way he was staring at me wasn't also helping at all.

I was fiddling with my fingers behind my back. I feel so stupid right now. I'm a coward, a really big one.

He fixated his blank gaze on me waiting for me to say something or do something but I didn't. Instead I swallowed thickly then bit my bottom lips till it was entirely drenched with my saliva.

The moment he rose up to his feet, I felt my whole legs failing me.

Shit, is it just me or did it just get hotter in this room? And believe me, the air conditioner was on really high.

As he took two strides forward, I quickly turned to leave the room. The moment my hand was on the door knob, his hand topped it. He was now towering me from behind. I refused to look back because it would just halt my movement. I want to, but I can't afford to. His breath fanned against my naked neck as he managed to snake his arms on my waist. As if he knew my knees were declining, he held me firmly because I almost came thudding down.

What are you doing to me Farooq Khaleed?

"Please, Stay." His voice was low, it came out so deep and laconic. The raucousness and hoarseness his tone held completely stole me away. It was tantalizing to the ears.

How can I refuse?

I couldn't.

He turned me around slowly. I didn't have the strength to even look him in the eyes as my head was bent low. He lifted my chin up making me to look him straight in the eyes which sent shivers down my spine.

Unconsciously, he picked me up bridal style, my hands wrapped around his neck protectively. He sprawled me on his bed, our eyes never wavering for even the slightest second.

He made love to me in ways I could never be able to elaborate. It was not mere intercourse. It was the deliberateness which reverses the experience back to performance, expectations and deliberate behaviors to gain a planned response. Each movement of ours was as though it were choreographed by powers unknown, free flowing and without intent, bliss unfolding under its own momentum. It was gentle, romantic, subtle and appeals to the five senses we enjoyed one another in the most delicate manner.