Coiled (Book 1 of 2)

She Knows Me; I Know Her

The Shafiq Family's Ancestral Home.

Late 1952.

From my place behind her I step quietly forward, my gaze hopelessly lost in admiring the feminine curves of her body, perfectly accentuated by the evening gown she's selected to wear to tonight's holiday party.

A warm shade of golden yellow -

Butterscotch perhaps;

Or canary.

An off the shoulder number, one with a tight fitting bodice and long billowing folds of silken fabric spilling down from her waist to the floor. She's fashioned her hair back, and it's artful perfection the way she's purposely left a few stray curls hanging loose. I watch them bounce and sway now as she continues her preparations for the evening ahead.

Femininity actualised;

You, the goddess.

My goddess.

And I've come to pay proper tribute.

So will you - will you -

Will you please let me worship?

Aware of my sudden presence, she takes it in stride, her attention seemingly never straying from her reflection in the mirror before her.

But I know better ...

Her only visible tells? The way her teeth gingerly bite at one side of her bottom lip, the way she now rocks slowly back and forth in her tall heels.

Reaching her, I watch both myself and her in the reflection as I lift one hand upwards. Hesitating, I sigh before caving fully into desire, my fingertips touching lightly at the place where the nape of her neck meets her back.

For another long second, she continues to sway before finally coming to a slow stop, eyes turning downward as she pretends to continue considering the selection of delicate bracelets she's laid out on the surface of the vanity before her.

Unable to resist another second, I let my hand fall away only to lean further forward and replace it with the softness of my lips.

Heaven would be to know only this:

My lips forever tracing the curves of your perfect form.

To become eternally lost in the pursuit of all the soft trails I could make down your spine, across your hips, over absolutely every last bit of you ...

And so, my lips wander. I let them kiss and slip their way slowly down her exposed back. And with that, she stills completely.

She's holding her breath -

She's just as caught up as I am.

And, having allowed myself a taste of her, I now surrender myself to the hunger that inevitably follows. Sighing and kissing at her dark skin more frantically, I bring both my hands to the sides of her body, my fingers curling around the silken fabric of her gown.

She's breathing again now, exhaling sharply as I press my own body fully into hers. But when I scramble to lift the folds of her gown up the length of her, she clears her throat meaningfully.

And as I pause, she murmurs to me quietly, "... I thought you were angry with me."

"In a way I am."

"So then why -"

Letting the fabric slip out of my hands, I shake my head against her, my own soft whisper finding its way into her ear, "- Because it's you, that's why. You know the effect you have on me."