Hell Of A Marriage {18+}

Chapter twenty two - Colors

He unhooks my bra and my breast spill forward into his waiting palms and he fondles them delicately. My eyes shut and I moan as he kisses over my exposed breast down my belly. He drops to his knees and unbuckles my belt and unzips my jeans and pulls them down along with my panties. When he has them undone, he looks up into my eyes and I stroke his hair, drunk and dizzy with undisclosed desires.

“Se riesci a vederti in questo momento, ti renderai conto che non è necessario combattermi. Non è chiaro? Lo vuoi anche tu (If you can see yourself right now you will realize there is no need to fight me.) Isn’t it clear? You want this too.” He gets up and kisses me hard on the lips and his hand works on my button and I begin to feel myself getting turned on and more excited. As I get closer to the edge, Keenan withdraws his hand and he pulls away from me.

My eyes open as I feel the loss of his touch and the absence of Keenan’s closeness. “Keenan?” I call out, wanting him to come back, weary and wondering why there is a sudden change in him.

“You want me to take you?” He raises a brow as he further backs away from me, “make you mine? Ravish and fill you up till you can’t take anymore?” His voice is drunk with so much list and I wonder why he stopped in the first place, “I can do all that to you and make your body feel good just like it should, all you have to do is say it.” he finishes speaking, going over and sitting down on the bed.

A tear runs down my face at the point I now am, I want him, my body has awoken and is alive because of him and nothing I do would be a consolation to what I want from him, but, I need to learn to put my feelings, wants and needs in check.

I cannot fight a battle. I know I have already lost. It would be a waste of time and energy.

Torn between right and wrong is how I feel, but the thought of not having him now tears into my mind and, like an addiction, I need my drug; I need Keenan, and there’s no second doubt about it.

“I want you, Keenan.” I breathe out, my heart pounding heavily in my chest.

His brow rises as if what I just said is not enough to convince him. “A questo punto devi essere specifico (At this point you have to be specific.)” He demands, his voice raw and shamelessly laced with lust and unsatisfied desires before speaking in English, “What exactly do you want me to do to you?”

“I want you to make me yours, Keenan.”

Probably loving the desperate point he’s brought me to, he asks, “And?”

I bite my lips gingerly, “Then touch me like no one will do it better.”

He nods slowly with a smug look, one I want to wipe off. “What else?”

“I want you to kiss me hard.” My frustration is reaching its peak and my eye drops to the floor.

“Non posso perderti ora (I can’t lose you now,) Look up at me Vary,” he commands and though the words come out softly, I am forced to obey because of the strength it carries, lifting my eyes and locking them in his, “And what else?” He further enquires, his brow still raised.

A tear runs down my face and I feel like I’m confessing my deepest, dirtiest desires to him. This isn’t the weakness I should show, but I’ve got no strength in myself. I left, but I chose this and I have to see it through.

“Then I want you to fuck me hard like we are running out of time! Fuck me like you can’t stand me, then pull me closer and kiss me like I belong to you and you alone.”

His face breaks into a satisfied smirk, finally bringing me to my knees, “Then come here.” He says, his face lustful and dark with desires.

As I make my way over to him, I tell myself, this is the last time. And as we do what I call a messed up lovemaking sex, I give out just as much as I am receiving and as we drive each other into ecstasy; I let go in his arms.