[Sequel of Warm Love, hence can't be read as a standalone.]
In the first phase, Reyansh concealed a web of mysteries, but as they stand face to face once more, it's Kiraz who holds the tantalizing secrets waiting to be unveiled. These hidden truths...
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Lipstick marks adorned my skin like fabric. Forehead. Neck. Chest. Stomach. And faint traces trailed along my legs.
Our nights were sleepless. I don't care. I would trade my nights to bring out every bit of her shamelessness. Consume it like liquor and be desired as if I've descended to Earth just for her.
The woman? She was getting on my nerves. I wanted to choke her neck and fuck her. She was digging the graveyard of my heart, forcing me to confront the truth that it was all a lie. A lie that I had buried my emotions for her in my dead heart. Foolish of me.
Everything that happened and is happening is wrong. I am consumed by an inferno, desiring to spend all my life like this. It's wrong.
I had made up my mind, hadn't I? Find the person daring to harm her, thinking they'd have the upper hand on me. I'll wrench that hand and that brain. I have a month to accomplish the task. Then, I'll go away. Like the retreating winter.
My fingers twirled her red strands while she traced her fingers on the locket laying on my chest. We smelled like each other, clinging to the warmth of our emotions. The rusty door of our hearts opened, finding comfort in each other.
Another voice echoes, proclaiming it's wrong. Not because we had sex. It was merely our way of expressing how much we missed and desired each other's presence. What's truly wrong is the expectation coming like a assuring waves of an ocean. The hope of leaning against each other. The hope of desiring more fiercely, perhaps greedily. The hope that this time will never end.
I harbor zero tolerance for hope filled with expectation. None whatsoever. Almost reduced to null. Why?
It's simple. I can traverse oceans for her. Cross every boundary of sanity. Every emotion will fade into mere illusion, leaving only love to stand and worship her. Hope emerges like the sun, ever present. The hope that everything will be alright and my efforts will be enough.
On one side, the one-sided efforts will act as an umbrella, casting shadow on the other side while also hindering its growth. Even if I try my best, my efforts will never be sufficient. I had unwittingly placed her in the past, hurting each other beyond repair.
Yet, I will always extend my hand to her, for her to grasp, for her to understand that I'll be there for her, no matter what.
I looked down at the woman with her arms wrapped around me, our legs intertwined. Her slender legs twisted around me like delicate threads forming a beautiful tapestry. Her soft chest pressed against my hard one. My fingers traced through the mass of her red strands, while she played with my chain, lost in thought.
I gently tap her chin, demanding her attention. "What are you thinking?"
Kiraz tilts her face towards me, her vulnerable eyes shimmering with innocence. I suppress a gulp, resisting the urge to flip her onto all fours and lose myself in her, craving the sound of her sweet, tempting moans. Instead, I remind myself she needs time to rest her body. She's only slept for an hour, and I woke her up for my own desires, to express my frustration with her and also to worship her.
