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My heart began to pound feverishly as I felt his warm finger tips caress my throat. He pressed his firm body against my back, breathing a flow of hot air onto my ear. Sighs. His smell was intoxicating; an indescribable scent that was only his. I breathed him in. Deep, slow breaths. A rough yet gentle hand began to make its way from my thigh to my waist, and around to my stomach. It felt as if he let me go it would have been the death of me. Pressure. Clasping. Longing. So many emotions in one fluid motion. A chill went up my spine, and electricity coursed through my entire body. Never had I felt such a connection with a man. Never had I been touched in such a way, as to say that he needed me. We began to sway. A dance that was so sensual it made my body ache.

I craved this man. My body yearned for him. My soul longed for him. My mind cried out for him. The feeling of his warm body pressed against mine sent me into a whirl. When he held me, the outside world was gone. When he held me, the light of day didn't matter. When he held me, I felt safe. Our bond made no sense. We as single people made no sense, at least not to those of the outside world; not to those of sane minds. But when we were together, we made all the sense in the world. We completed each other. I needed him. He needed me. We loved each other. We felt passion.

He turned me to face him, slowly raising my shirt over my head. Those eyes; deep brown. I had never felt so frightened yet captivated by anyone. When he looked at me, it was as if he stared into the depths of my soul. Nothing was secret. He leaned down a bit and warm lips caressed my neck. They slid down to bare shoulder. My fingers danced around in his dark brown hair. I was ready. For the first time in my life, I was ready. Our lips met in the most passionate kiss ever imaginable. Our fingers fumbled around the buttons of his shirt; it fell to floor in one fluid motion. Exposure. He turned me away from him once again. His hands slid around to unbutton my jeans, which he then pulled to the floor. I could feel his large hands grasp my ankles to assist further in the removal. Exposure. Sensual. Warmth. Soon we were both completely undressed, staring into each others eyes. He picked me up with ease, and walked me towards the bed. Laying me down, he kissed my stomach. He was so powerful, could crush me in a second if he really wanted to, and yet treated every movement tentatively. His body pressed against mine, our fingers intertwined, and we became one. Writhing bodies. Pleasured sighs. Heat. Passion. We made love. It was beautiful, and every second I felt more alive than I ever had. I was complete.

Our ethereal looking bodies lay intertwined, contorted in the aftermath of passion. Heaven was there, in that bed. Nothing was wrong in the world. We were cured of our afflictions, of our scars, of our pain and tears. I had no worries. He gazed at me and kissed my forehead. His lips hesitated on my skin and I could feel his body tense. I knew what was about to happen, but I prayed that it wouldn't. I prayed with everything in my body that this moment wouldn't end. My body began to quiver. My intoxication transformed into terror as I saw the shift in his eyes, as I saw the shift in his brain. I looked into those owl eyes, pleading, trying to hold onto him for both of us. Maybe if I could  hold onto him he wouldn't have to. It never worked. We'd tried; but whenever the voices started, there was no stopping them. 

"Please, Brendon, no. Stay with me. Fight it." I grabbed either side of his face as he clenched his eyes shut. 

Suddenly, his eye-lids shot open, revealing the eyes of a predator. 

"He's not here anymore. Try again later." 

Everything happened to fast, and the only audible sound after those words were the sounds of my screams ringing throughout the halls. 

Behind These Walls // Brendon UrieWhere stories live. Discover now