Dirty Bits

In Bed With Lucifer

»Tell him yes. Even if you are dying of fear, even if you are sorry later, because whatever you do, you will be sorry all the rest of your life if you say no.« Gabriel Garcia Marquez

I feel the icy cold in my bones, yet I don't freeze.

I feel fire in my veins, yet I don't burst out in flames.

I feel thirsty for his kisses, yet I can't quench the hunger in my lips...

The frost was biting into the glass of the opened window, leaving behind it's cold kisses like tiny footprints. Wind twirled around the red candle on the piano, making the flame flicker with that crackling sound, creating shadow puppets on stone walls. The soft breeze caressed the bare skin of my back, sending shivers up and down my spine. Ashy smell of his cigarette creeped up my nostrils, making my tongue ache for the sweet taste of his skin.

The mellow sound of old piano keys seductively danced across the room, each note gently sinking into me like invisible fingertips. Dark and beautiful melody terrified and amazed me at the same time, mainly because it was made by his hands.

He was sitting by the black piano, barefoot and shirtless, with nothing on but a pair of old jeans, his lips swaying and forming a silent song.  His broad shoulders reminded me of how good he looks in that black blazer he wore not-so-often. His delectable skin reflected the dark masks created by the dying flame and the cold wind. I wanted to bite into his skin ever so softly, just a little bit...

I craved his flesh, but I didn't want to disturb him while he was playing the piano. The music he created burned into my soul, setting fire to all those butterflies fluttering inside my stomach. Like a magician he casts a spell on me every time he touches that piano, and goddess help me if he sings with that velvet-like voice of his... Music truly is the strongest form of magic.

To satisfy my hunger I decided to distract my tounge's sinful urges and occupied it with a piece of chewing gum. Like a charm the smooth taste of blueberry and mint filled my mouth.

I placed my bare feet on the stone cold floor and walked over towards the musician in nothing but my pink panties, lace bra and with one of the seven deadly sins quietly squirming within me.

I gently pressed my fingernails into his strong back, rhythmically moving them around. He didn't even flinch. When he was playing his music he didn't notice the world around him, not even the scattered ashes from the cigarettes, beneath his fingers.

He puffed the last smoke from the dying cigarette and put it out in the ashtray. With his right hand he ruffled his brown hair, creating a messy, but delightful look. The sudden light from the candle made him flutter his dark eyelashes like a bird flutters his wings. He lowered his look towards my bra and questionably raised his left eyebrow.

I knew he was bad for me. That what I was doing was irrational and insane and frankly, stupid as fuck. But I didn't care. 

...Please tell me I'm your one and only Or lie, and say at least tonight...

I didn't care about the warnings. About right or wrong. About how he loved music above all, and me...well, not me.  

...When you turn off the lights I get stars in my eyes, Is this love? Maybe someday So don't turn on the lights...

He looked so gorgeous with that brown, brassy eyes of his, that seemed darker in this dim lighting, and messy hair which matched the color of his eyes. I guess American Horror story was right; The devil is real and he isn't a little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful because he's a fallen angel and he used to be god's favourite.