Our fallen souls [EN] (High Enough) : VOLUME 1

36 - Joséphine

I lean weakly against the edge of the worktop.

"Tell me why I can't stay away from you, why I can't resist you," he implores, bringing his face closer to mine. His lips come dangerously close to mine, creating an electric tension between us.

"Tell me why I can't stay away from you either," I reply.

He scrutinizes me intensely, and then, as if seized by an irresistible impulse, he grabs my neck, plunging his lips against mine in a passionate kiss. It's an astonishing mixture of hatred and desire, a surge of sensations that seems to set my whole being ablaze. In a bold gesture, he lifts both my legs, which instinctively wrap around him, as if it were a natural reflex. He grabs my buttocks with his hands and carries me to his bed with disturbing ease.

He tosses me into bed, then stares at my body, his intense gaze never leaving mine.

Gently, he approaches me, first kissing my legs and thighs. He lifts my poor nightie, tenderly placing kisses on my hipbones, causing a delicious tension to build inside me. My breath quickens, the desire intensifying in an almost unreal way. It's as if my fantasies are coming to life before my eyes, a reality that surpasses my most daring dreams. His head moves closer between my legs, his gaze still captivating mine as he licks me with intoxicating expertise. It's a blazing fire that awakens within me, each caress of his tongue over my intimacy an unexpected delight, eliciting moans mixed with pleasure and surprise. His gestures are calculated, his tongue swirling around my sensitive spot with precision, as if he knows exactly what makes me tingle. The sounds that escape my mouth become an intoxicating symphony of pleasure and desire. He raises his head, his fingers taking the place of his tongue, giving me an equally exquisite sensation. Still scrutinizing me, he slides a finger inside me, eliciting a moan of pleasure. I can see him smiling, pleased with my reactions. One of his hands slowly moves up, until his finger reaches my lips. I part my lips, receiving his finger with a devouring desire. I catch myself licking him, and his reaction is not long in coming: he moans faintly.

Seeing that I still have some power over him, I begin to suck sensuously on his finger, carefully scrutinizing his reactions. He bites his lip, letting out sighs of pleasure, his breathing quickening and then, as if I'd pushed him over the edge, he jerks upright and kisses me fiercely. His body moves closer to mine, and I can feel his desire growing against me. Without hesitation, I pull down his sweatpants and then his boxers, revealing his swollen intimacy. The effect I'm having on him excites me to no end.

He grabs me, one hand behind my back, and turns me over so that I'm on top of him. He removes my nightie, then his gaze locks on my body.

"What?" I ask, only slightly embarrassed by his stare.

"You're beautiful," he says, looking at my face and body.

I laugh softly, almost nervously, but he grabs my chin with his fingers to force me to look at him. "You should never be ashamed of your body, or yourself. You're beautiful."

I'd be standing right now and falling.

He slowly shifts my panties (the only piece of clothing I have left here) to touch me.

I stare into his eyes, which stare into mine, and I catch myself moaning as I lose myself in the brown of his eyes. He comes over with another hand, opens his dresser and takes out a condom.

So this is it, then? I'm going to have sex with that loathsome boy?

"Are you sure?" he asks, his gaze searching mine with a gleam of concern. There's something about the way he looks at me, almost as if he's trying to break through the facade I've erected to protect myself. His features, usually marked by an air of arrogant superiority, suddenly seem more vulnerable, more human.

"Yes."

Then he stops caressing me to place his hand on my hip and slowly, with a tenderness I'd never have imagined coming from him, he lowers me gently onto him. I simply can't contain myself from moaning, the sensation is so exhilarating. His body hugs mine perfectly. A moan escapes his lips at the same time as mine as he finds himself totally inside me.

I'm a little lost, not really knowing what to do or what move to make (a consequence of having only had one boy in my life, I guess).

Blake senses my hesitation and, with uncanny mastery, places both hands on my hips, guiding me as if in the car. Each of his gestures is precise, each movement skillfully orchestrated, as if he knows my body better than I do. His breathing and mine intensify as I accelerate my movements. Gently, my lips find his, then slide down his neck, nibbling lightly. His arms embrace my body, and his moans grow louder and louder, testifying to the effect I'm having on him. In an almost calculated move, he tips me over so that he's on top of me. With a delicate gesture, he lifts one of my legs, continuing to stare at me intently as he makes love to me in a way I've never known before. His gestures are at once tender and tinged with a certain savagery. Cries of pleasure escape my mouth as his movements accelerate.

Her curls, now damp, fall to her forehead, adding a touch of sensuality to her bewitching allure. I can't help but admire her even more. Her body, slightly muscled, her V perfectly defined, the scars that tell part of her story. I observe, almost shyly, the intoxicating rhythm of our bodies colliding. My head tilts back, eyes closed, overwhelmed by the sensations. Her hips undulate over me with a disturbing mastery.

Is he a God or what?

I run my hand over his torso, feeling the contours of his muscles under my fingers, then slide my hands over his firm abs. The urge to devour him suddenly takes hold of me, and I sensually lick his neck, nibbling delicately on his earlobe, and the skin of his neck.

"Stop it," he murmurs between breaths.

I offer him a mischievous smile.

"Why?" I ask in a falsely innocent voice.

"Because I'm coming much too fast."

His warnings only reinforce my desire to provoke him. Ignoring his warnings, I continue my caresses and kisses, exploring every inch of his burning skin. Passion consumes us, and his movements become more and more frenzied until a moan of pleasure escapes his lips, and he stops, panting.

With a gesture, he removes the condom, then returns to snuggle against me. His head rests on my naked belly, and shyly, I come to play with his curls, enjoying this moment of tenderness after this wave of intensity. We say nothing, as if words were clearly superfluous at this precise moment.

After a few minutes, his breathing becomes regular, a sign that he's falling asleep. I hesitate whether to stay here, to sleep in this bed with him, or to leave, not sure how our awakening will go.

Will it be awkward, or will it mean we're together now?

Shyly, I lift his head and lay it gently on the pillow, covering it lightly with a blanket. I take one last look at his soothed face before resolving to leave discreetly. Carefully, I grab my things and get dressed, trying not to make any noise that might wake him. I stand by the door, torn between staying and leaving. The feel of his lips on mine, the warmth of his body, the intense emotions that overwhelmed us, all still resonate within me. But I know I can't escape the questions that will arise when I wake up. And maybe that night, as passionate as it was, doesn't necessarily mean we're together now.

This conclusion breaks my heart.

Blake is clearly not the kind of guy to go out with a girl, Joséphine.

Finally, I take a deep breath, resigning myself to leaving these questions hanging for now. I decide to leave, gently closing the door behind me so as not to disturb his sleep.