Chereads / The Unstopable Power of Love / Chapter 4 - One Night of Passion

Chapter 4 - One Night of Passion

As the city lights passed through the lavish curtains, the opulent hotel suite was softly illuminated. Elizabeth thought she had entered a fantasy, a universe apart from the rough reality she had grown accustomed to. Her appearance floated to the overwhelming figure set against the glittering horizon right through the floor to- ceiling windows. Michael Drake exuded an aura of force and confidence that was both inebriating and terrifying, a power of nature meant to clear her away later. He walked to meet her, as though sensing her inspection, his sharp dark eyes locked on hers with a force that left her breathless. A slow, enigmatic smile curved his lips, and Elizabeth felt her pulse alive—an unanticipated burst of intensity flooding her cheeks. Whispering, his voice a deep, velvety caress that sent shills down her spine, "You look magnificent." Elizabeth brushed her hands over the silky fabric of her dress and felt self-conscious under his smoldering stare. She managed to murmur, almost lifting her voice above whisper, "Thank you." Closing the distance with a few measured steps, Michael moved quickly and elegantly, like a predator stalking its prey. He stretched out to brush her cheek, lightly leaving a trail of fire behind him. "Do you know how totally fascinating you are?" He murmured and her skin felt his warm breath. Elizabeth's pulse screamed in her ears, her faculties overwhelmed by his proximity, the inebriating mix of his perfume and the crass, basic energy that seemed to radiate from his own body. Her head was whirling with emotions, a heady mix of want, incredulity, and a trace of fear. She sighed, not sure what to say. As Michael laughed, a low, rumbling sound, she felt great tremor. Whispering, "then don't say anything," he said as his lips brushed hers. Their whole surrounds seemed to vanish at that time, the rich ambient elements lost meaning as they veered in a haze of passion and want. Elizabeth fell in to Michael's seductive touch and felt her restrictions vanish like snow in a summer heat. Their kisses burned like a fire trying to devour both of them. Elizabeth's senses were overwhelmed by his taste, his aroma, and the great friction between their bodies. She was warned against caving in to such a strong urge by a voice of warning buried in the back of her brain. But those whispers were soon silenced by the roar of her own longing—a simple need that begged to be met. Elizabeth felt as they fell upon the lush territory of the bed, their developments driven by an enthusiastic need, that she had been sent to another realm, a level of existence where only passion and hunger held influence. Michael's touch was amazing; his fingertips followed her skin in a singing route, sparking fires meant to wear her from the back to front. Her body a petitioner at the elevated area of his talent, she curved into him and gave herself over to the confusing twisting of bliss that sought to swallow her. Elizabeth felt herself falling apart in those brief minutes as Michael's unrelenting attack on her senses tore through her well built barriers. She was a consenting captive, totally, hopelessly entwined in the sexual magic he spun. Their enthusiasm wavered over the evening, rising and falling like ocean tides, leaving both of them gasping and happy. Elizabeth reveled in the afterglow, her body singing a symphony of pleasure and a delicious aching that permeated every inch of her. Elizabeth ended up focusing all over, following the outlines of his elements with her fingertips, in the calm minutes that followed while they lay twisted in the disordered sheets. He was a focus in contradictions, toughly beautiful yet with a softness that drew at her heart. "What do you have in mind?" he said, his voice a low thunder sending delicious quakes across her. Elizabeth grinned cynically, her fingertips following the harsh point of his jaw. Her words, full of astonishment and incredulity, "That I must be the luckiest woman in the world." She admitted Her heart surged as Michael's lips twisted softly and enigmatically. "Truly, dear," he said, "the karma is all mine." Elizabeth let herself loll in the radiance of his affection, to savor the great appeal existing apart from everything else as he gathered her into his grasp. Michael was her faithful servant; she was a goddess revered on the altar of love and desire, queen for the night. She could not help but wonder, though, what would happen to them when the sun rose and reality set in even as she yielded to the seductive attraction of their relationship. Would this transcending link fade into history like a passing dream, or would it last? Much to her dismay, the answers to those questions would come sooner than she could at any point vision, and the outcomes of their contact would echo the texture of her life, winding around an embroidery of delight, misfortune, and at last, a retribution that would test the actual furthest reaches of her solidarity and flexibility. A storm was building as secrets and betrayals threatened to pull them apart in the darkness. Elizabeth wound up remaining at a junction - one way guiding the satisfaction of her most deep cravings, the other covered in vulnerability and the commitment of breaking shock as the main pale beams of sunrise crawled into the great beyond gave reason to feel dubious about their brilliant gleam the sleeping city. It seemed her decision to make. But the effects would linger for eternity, permanently changing her fate as well as the man's whose touch had set her soul ablaze. Elizabeth stayed to Michael's sleeping pattern while their whole surrounds blended to life, savoring the fleeting moments of serenity before the storm. Deep down in her spirit, she knew the peace would not last, the winds of change were gathering stronger, and the journey ahead would be dangerous and painful. For now, though, they were secure in the haven of their hotel suite, savoring the warm glow of desire and the prospect of a brilliant future. They were unaware that the storm was already upon them and that the reckoning they had both wanted and dreaded was fast here. Its fierce steps were inexorable and echoing throughout the halls of time.