But do you think I am foolish enough to fall for the same tricks again?" he laughed, and there was nothing kind in that laughter anymore. It was made of cold hatred and rage she had forgotten existed between them.
No, he would never love her again, trust her again and help her again. And she deserved every shred of it. But… would he believe if she said..
"I have no choice that night." the words burnt inside of her mouth but she did not dare to speak them. But his intent eyes noticed the welter of emotions crossing her eyes. If only, he could tell her that.. No! He had nothing to tell her.
"But.." she raised her head to see him taking a step closer. "If you want something, you know you have a way there." he looked at her body with a smoldering gaze. His intentions were clear as day. "I will never forget the touch of your skin." the words were meant to humiliate her. Remind her that she had slept with someone other than her husband. But they came like a hot wave toward her which drowned her in ecstasy.
To think that he had been with so many women yet he had missed her touch. The feel of her skin and he wanted her again. She must have become a masochist after being with her husband for a long time to like this kind of insult.
He took a step closer, second, third until he was inches away from her. His hands came to her back and she shoved with the touch.
'Get a grip on yourself, you fool!' last night she had drugs to blame but what excuses would she make in the broad daylight.
She raised her head to meet his eyes only to see lust dancing in them.
He leaned on her slowly as if giving her time to retract if she wanted. But did she want that? Perhaps a small part of her mind would but when it comes to her skin, her heart, they carve for him. Carve for the touch, the feeling he was offering.
The ghost of a smile spread on his lips when she closed her eyes waiting for that kiss. Though she was wearing the wedding ring of someone else on her finger. Yet she was so willing to be kissed by him. To be touched by him. Last night, he tried to justify her actions.
Told himself that she must be shocked. Worn out, exhausted or even intoxicated but what justification would he give now except that she wanted him or.. Any other man who offers his touch to her.
The thought burnt his mind like the flow of lava destroying everything in its vicinity. His hands reached for her waist.
She forced her on the tree in a rough manner. A woman ready to let go of herself did not deserve softness anymore. He did not wait for her permission anymore. Her body had already given him all the permissions he needed.
His hands slid through her hair, gripping her head as his tongue penetrated her mouth. The taste of his mouth was sweet and a hint of orange juice he had drunk while following her.
She sagged into the rough bark, surprise giving way to alarm as she realized her own helplessness. She could not ignore him. Her body remembered his skin so well. And his kiss was the opening of the pandora box of her emotions she had closed long ago. Her heart rammed into her chest with joy as his hands came to her unbridled.
Her hands.. They reached for his shoulders, holding him tightly as if he was the last anchor of her life. Sliding down the bulk of his upper arms and cupping his elbows. She retraced the path she was so habitual of. Her eyes closed and the heat started to spread in her body.
She had no choice. He was taking what he wanted from her. His so-called revenge. She repeated the words in her mind though she knew it was only a way to get rid of the guilt she was feeling. Her husband had never loved her. It had been months since she was last with him.
But even if they have been closer, she could never love him. Her family wanted a name, wealth, power, but she… she had only wanted Lenart. It did not matter if he was weak or poor. If only she could tell him that but her mind was colluding with the pressure building inside her body.
His hands had started to fondle her breasts and at some point. His lips stealing every breath from her lungs through her mouth. the smell of his skin had not changed. It kindled old hunger; she was still on her feet but felt as though she were falling. His kiss was so skilled. The way it opened new paths for her and how she wanted to look at them with him. Only him.
Her husband had kissed her gently at the start. When he did not know about her betrayal and how she had already entered into womanhood with another man. But she knew that it would never be compared to Len. She knew that no man would be compared to her lover. The lover who had returned only to take revenge.
But his touch was gentle. The light touch of her throat, his hands slipping to her collarbone and reaching for her breath. He slowly traced a circle around her nipple. Slow but not hesitating! He touched her confidently, as though he remembered as clearly as she what she had liked; and patiently, caressingly, as though this touch meant something more to him than lust.
It must be her heart making the stories to justify this moment but soon, it dulled. The sensation was too much and they swept her from the floor. She leaned on him for her life.