Stay with me

Chapter 49 - You are my medicine

- You will pay for this! Аll!

Koray, as soon as the door closed behind the assistant, again waved his hands in front of his nose and grimaced in disgust:

- Fu!!! Mediocre! Soaked everything here with poison. Omyush, I can't leave this place - this witch decided to turn you around her fingers.

"Koray, don't talk nonsense," Omer asked wearily. "You know perfectly well that this is impossible.

Koray looked at him thoughtfully and shook his head.

- Oh, Omyush! He sighed. - You're like a small child. She's w-i-t-c-h! Better kick her out before it's too late.

- And the reason? - Omer looked at him seriously. - I can't kick out an employee without a reason.

- The reason? Koray thought. - Reason ... You will have a reason! I swear!

***

Omer stood quietly in the kitchen doorway and watched as Defne, humming something melodic, washes the dishes. Her voice floated through the air, penetrating his skin and vibrating in his chest with a sweet shiver. She was so beautiful. In cute home dress, with fiery hair scattered over her shoulders and her delicate face completely devoid of makeup, she had no idea how much loved and desired she was. He walked over to her and stopped behind. Pressing his whole body, he hugged her and drowned his face in her hair. They smelled exotic and heady. The smell hit his head and made the blood run faster through his veins. Omer slid his palms over her body and crossed them under her breasts. In a voice low from the feelings raging inside, he spoke in her ear:

- Drop the dishes. Then we will wash them. I miss you...

"One plate is left," Defne replied softly.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. His hands, body heat, ragged breathing were intoxicating and shivering. The heart in her chest melted and thoughts crumbled into fragments and swirled like multi-colored stones in a kaleidoscope. But Defne managed to rinse the plate and put it in the dryer. She even dried her hands with a towel. And only then turned to him and hugged him by the neck. His hair was damp from the shower and curled around her fingers as she brushed them gently over the back of his head.

"Someone promised to cure my jealousy with love," Omer reminded in a velvet voice and pressed his lips to her graceful neck. Defne sighed convulsively and tilted her head to her shoulder. A path of kisses, unhurried, viscous-tender, stretched from the collarbone to the chin and along it to the ear. Stopping, he pressed his cheek to her cheek and purred: "I'm waiting for my medicine.

- Are you jealous now? - Defne with difficulty pulled out the necessary words from her clouded mind.

- And how! - He confirmed. - I'm always jealous of you.

Defne stood up on tiptoe and kissed him. Her tongue ran over Omer's plump lower lip and slipped into his mouth. There it intertwined with his, hot ... skillful and the dance of passion began. They kissed long and hard. First tender and sweet, now furious, on the verge of pain and recklessness. Omer dug into the pliable lips, crushed them, and then caressed them, barely touching them with his lips. His hands went under the dress. He pressed his palms to the silk skin of her legs and held up to the buttocks. Squeezing them, he picked up Defne in his arms. She, like a vine, clung to him and wrapped her arms and legs around his strong body.

"I lit the fireplace," he whispered at her ear. - And I put a blanket. I want to love you and see how the reflections of fire dance on your white skin. I'm brazen, right?

Defne shook her head and protested fervently:

- No! You are beautiful! And beloved! I want you to love me by the fireplace. And so that the reflections of the fire are reflected in your eyes.