Mara:A Charmed Affair

8:The Strange&The Manipulative

God, her legs felt like jello, the only thing holding her up was Blaise. She couldn’t run away from the feeling that if she didn’t stop soon her clothes would be all over the floor.

Blaise ran his handsup and down her hips, itching to reach for her zipper, but he didn’t. No, no, too fast. Too fast indeed, maybe he was intoxicated or maybe it was the feeling of recklessness running through him that made him want to do serious damage.

Plunder….

What the fuck is wrong with you?

The question alone made him pull his lips away from Maras and press his forehead against hers as he took a deep breath. His heartbeat slowed just a little bit as he closed his eyes and breathed in and out softly.

To Mara, the fleeting moment was surreal, what had happened to the two of them in the span of a few short minutes? Had lust taken over, the very things that she had been able to keep at bay because she detested them? She them in Alec’s eyes, lust laden eyes that sought to strip her of every inch of fabric that she wore. He had been that way since the day he realized that he could fulfill all of his carnal needs by burying into the warmth of a woman.

Whats wrong with me?

A crashing wave of regret activated her sense of reason, her sense of responsibility and she sighed outloud at the grave mistake she had been just a few minutes and clothes from making. Blaise’s hands fell away from her hips and hung limp, knuckles brushing up against the smooth door as he did so. Neither one of them tore apart completely, they were too consumed and dazed by what had passed just moments before. Together they stood, breathing in and breathing out, her fists pressed against his soft chest, his nose touching hers and her eyes fluttering.

“I’m sorry.”

For what?

His chapped lips mumbled incoherent words as he attempted to put what he had felt in words, nothing much came out, but at least he tried. She shuddered and took her hands away from the soft fabric of his costume and bent her head to the side, his nose swept against her cheek, surprisingly cold.

Why had she come anyway? Was it really for Andrea, or was it for her to see him?

And now that she’d seen him, now that she’d touched this stranger, what now?

She didn’t know, and the mystery frightened her more than Alecs probing eyes. She was frightened in the Truth that stood before her, Blaise.

What would she tell her daughters years from now when they asked her how it felt to kiss? She would push a strand of loose hair out of her eyes and take a deep breath. Lies would form on her tongue even as the truth played like a cinema in her mind. She would think, strange, inviting, exciting, the sweetest form of wine, fermented grapes with a tinge of bitter reality. Kissing for her, was the audacious equivalent of sex to her. She would tell the girls, you shouldn’t do it too young, or carelessly, or with the first guy who tells you that you’re pretty. Then she would think it again, but the strangest kisses are often the most beautiful.

“Damn,” The words unconsciously slipped from her lips as she moved under Blaise, pressing a hand against his rib softly to push him away so that she could get out. He budged, slowly, her warmness gone from his body as she struggled to gain control of her sanity, of her emotions.

Who would have thought that something so innocent would have left her with so much shame, and him with so much remorse? Her head hung limp as she bent over pressing her hands flat against her ears as she struggled to tune out the humming noise in her ears, a sort of buzzing that began as soon as the last of his touch left her, “You alright?”