Vicariously Yours,

Leaving Yours Truly

Tongues massage each other, wet and slick. Her breath of ice and water and his of fire and spice as their mouths collide in bursting salacious unison. There was guilt, lust and bad bad hurt of the inevitable result of this union. It was rotten but it was alive. It was sick but it was sexy. It was wrong but it was right.

Her hands wrap around his bald head, inching him more closer. His beard bristle against her jaw, abrading it to a lot of red scratches but she didn't care.

His mouth is possessive as he kisses her. Too much of sensations run down her body which makes Isabella forget the function of her own muscles and it's movements. He brings his hands up, pulling the elastic band that had her hair tied into a long ponytail and freeing it away. He tangles his fingers into her flowing hair, feeling her breath quicken and shaking.

"You like that?" He smirks.

His hands wrap around her hips, easing down to her skirt. His lips trail down her jaw, kissing her skin like he was worshiping her. She lays her forehead against his shoulder, squeezing the back of his neck with her hand, whispering out his name like a prayer.

Tugging her skirt up to her hips, he hisses at the sight of her pink pale sheer panties. Tiny and a patch of wetness surrounds the lips of her pussy covered panties.

"You are dripping."

His other fingers digs into her hips, the masculine hand splayed wide out. She could feel even that. She was feeling every thing too much. It was too much of it and that was- she didn't know if it's a bad thing or a good thing.

It glides down towards her mound. Sliding in between her legs, he rubs her soaking panties. Slushy moisture met his fingers, coursing through the wet fabric.

She moans out softly, breathing into his ear which tickles him as his forefingers nudge the panties to the side and his thumb finds her swollen clit. Rubbing in small circles, his other hand slides under her top, his palm touching her stomach, continuing upwards till he cups her breast.

Heavy and right, that's what she feels to him.

Her head falls back with her eyes closing down.
His lips explore down her neck, her collarbones  as his thumb brushes against her nipples through the thin material of her bra. She sighs, beautifully making him ache more.

He watches her under his heavy lids. His face serious and dark. Something feels ...so much. It was like a bomb was about to go off and they can't stop it. There was much too distance between them and it was killing him. But desire overpowered knowledge. Right now overwhelmed the past and future. Time ceased to exist but also realization of the moment was alive.

"I need you, Isabella." He rasped.

She opened her eyes to his. Stark wild hunger laced in them and it jolted her on the inside. This man with dilated blue eyes was telling her  that he needed her. He needed her.

"I heard anyone need me before." She whispers and he hungrily watches her mouth move. His mouth claims hers, roughly instead of answering her. She tilts her lips to taste him some more.

He tasted of everything Marcelo. Everything that described him was his taste. Ripples of fever danced upon her skin as he pushes her top above her bra, pulling both cups down till her breasts are exposed to him. He squeezed each cup, making her gasp in his mouth.

This was it. Nothing else to it. She could do this...She tugged on his pants, biting his lower lip as she undos his zip, sliding her hand into the steel like rod buried underneath.

"Isabella." He hisses her name in pain and pleasure. His jaw tight and his eyes half lidded, watching her dainty hand stroke him, up and down, slowly. "I'll either rip those panties or you take them off now."