Femme Fatale.

10

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His arms wrap around her in infinite tenderness as she moans sultrily. As if to silence her, Nahar's sensual mouth moves across her full luscious lips, licking away her salty orgasm tears.

Carla's body clutches at his, wrapping itself about him as her mouth welcomes his, deliciously sweet and she cries out, a moan that is undoubtedly erotic.
♥♥

Songs for the chapter:
i. Eye to eye - Sia
ii. Love potion - Mafikizolo

♥♥

I wake at dawn to his touch, the delight of his warmth and the heady smell of his skin. I have never lain with a lad who had completely loved me, for myself, and it is a dizzy experience. I had never lain with a male whose touch I adore without any need to hide my adoration, or exaggerate it, or adjust it at all, like I had done with Joe. Who turned out not to be a fake, a rake and a heartbreaker.

I simply love Nahar as he is my one and only lover and he loves me with the same simplicity of appetite and desire which makes me wonder what I thought I had been doing all these past months when I had been dealing in the false coin of vanity and lust with Joe. I had not known then that all along there has been this other currency of pure gold.

Nahar slowly, sensually, undresses me and makes love to me till we doze again in a sleepy cycle of arousal and satisfaction, and by six o'clock in the morning, when it is starting to get light, we are both deliciously exhausted and ravenous with hunger.

"Come on," he says to me. "Let's go bath, I'll have the housemaid prepare us breakfast."

We are to set off back home today. Nahar makes me call Shawn to tell our parents that I am still at Rhoda's and I'll be back home today in the evening.

It is a lie too late, and too unlikely to convince anyone who cares to think a about it, but I am gambling on the fact that Mother, pregnant, and Father, over the moon at that occurrence, no one will be thinking or caring very much what I do at all.

Nahar insists we leave early in the morning so we can be at home by early evening. I am crying when he opens the passenger door of his jeep for me and in my embarrassment, one of my tears falls on his upturned face as I sit in the warm leather seat. He brushes it with a fingertip but instead of wiping his hand on his pants, he puts his finger to his lips and licks it.

"What are you doing?"

At once he looks guilty. "You shouldn't have dropped a tear on me."

"You shouldn't have licked it," I burst out in reply.

He doesn't answer, nor does he move away immediately. Then he says; "andiamo", and turns from me and goes around the car, into his seat and starts the jeep.

A fine dusting rises as he steps on the gas and our beautiful home falls behind us. Nahar puts his hand on my thigh.

"Don't cry," he says abruptly.

I glance sideways at him and wish he could take me back to our little mansion and love me to eternity. "I'm not."

"You are," he contradicts me. "And I cannot drive a weeping lass all the way to Watamu.