LOS TIEMPOS PERDIDOS (THE LOST TIMES)

CHAPTER 11: ADELITA

Grabbing by its neck Alessa dragged the younger to her room, silently keeping their tension low not to make the others awoken by their unfinished business. "Look at me." The noblewoman grabs the picker's face, forcing her to face her. "Don't think of anyone else, set your eyes on me and ignite the fire." Her body inches closer to her making the picker fall to the bed. The heated play between the two of them had started once again, the devil was born in the form of a sinful noblewoman.

"You should be saying that to yourself either." Lorraine switches their position, the elder's dishevelled hair and her eyes who complemented with the darkness of her room, Alessa's lips drew a smirk as she trailed her hand to the picker's back, softly grazing it up and down making the insides of the younger to boil with desire. Slowly, the head of the sired young woman lowered, licking the exposed skin of the older, Alessa closed her eyes tight, her hands slowly clasped at the clothed back of the picker.

"Vanilla scented smell..." Her wilding deep voice roared under her skin as it itched for Lorraine's heated touch, her teeth slowly dug into her neck making the older grew impatient to her foreplays, Alessa reached the button of the picker's old Duxbak hunting shirt.

"You like it?" The older whispers underneath their lips, her hands were busy taking each of buttons off, Alessa later own reached the bare pale skin of the younger, her wicked touch sends shiver to the picker's spine as a dark idea crosses Lorraine's head, a sinister smile runs across her lips as she puts her hand around the collar of the woman's evening dress.

"I love your smell but I would also love to sniff it with your sweat."

The exquisite taste of hell has always been forbidden in heaven but how would someone decline the call of temptation when the freshly cooked access in every inch of their bodies wouldn't be able to be denied? 1, 2 and 3 they count as they face the gates of darkness, fully indulged to the sensation they felt.

"Harder!"

They screamed with no mercy, whimpers and rain of unexplained emotion curled upon them, glistening of sweats under the shine of moonlight, the claws of a monster who will forever engraved a mark to her skin, it might disappear but the uproar of its commotion and the sinful desire will always remain inside them.

Alessa cries as her hands dig into the picker's hair as if she holds the last bits of her life there, she pleads and whispers to the younger as they go faster and faster to the ride of unwanted but beautiful gates of misery.

A misery that sooner will shock the two of them.

The picker's body falls into the sheets, trails of sweats from her forehead down to her toned body makes it harder for the older to stop from the mess they made, Lorraine lays next to her, the hot breathing of the older touches the picker's sweaty face while Alessa's eyes were also checking every inch of her wonderful yet aggressive details.

Lorraine's eyes were focused to the ceiling, a pure silence with its head empty, the noblewoman stretches her hands to her cheek, slowly caressing it. "Lorraine..." She whispers her eyes still on her. Alessa's chest seems to grow so tight, her eyes red and glistering. "Don't leave me..." After that, her eyes slowly went heavy making her fall to a deep slumber.

The younger turns around and faces her, watching her delicate structures being hit by the moonlight, a piece of art that a poor servant once owned, Lorraine slowly drifted away from the naked woman, covering her naked body with the duvet. Lorraine's silence was enough to hear every single air coming in and out of the room, wearing her clothes back, her eyes caught an empty canvas and colouring materials sitting on a table, the younger didn't take some time and gathered all of it, placing it carefully next to a sofa in front of the bed where a perfect living art shined under the moonlight. Looking back and forth, she exquisitely looked at every detail of the older, Alessa's heavy breathing featuring the evening breeze was enough to calm the picker's nerves as she focused herself on imprinting such a work of art.