Why do I love him? Why do I want him? Why does the mere thought of him make me smile? Why can I not lie besides him without wanting to run my hand over the velvet of his skin, without breathing in a little deeper simply to savour his scent? I am not sure....
She was leaving him. Again. And there was nothing he could do about it. They were caught in this endless cycle of renewal to slow decay. He hated it - and still he yearned for her. Every time. He smoothed a hand over the soft length of her back, as she la...
The glass shattered, champagne and shards splattering floor and shoes with a generous helping of too expensive champagne all around. Were this a normal business convention, or a legal seminar, or even an Literature workshop, it would have meant squealing...
She wanted him, had wanted him for so long, she could not remember a moment when the mere mention of his name had not tightened something in her, had not heated her blood. It mattered little that most of the time she could not stand him, that he was her b...
I love his hands, elegant and strong, the hands of a pianist. I love the way they feel on my skin, the way he cradles my face before he takes that first kiss. His hands might have been the thing surprising me the most that first time he kissed me - not hi...
She remembered the sheer elegance of the dance, remembered the feeling of tamed power in the movements of her body under the strain of the arabesque, only dimly aware of her partner’s lips toying with the sensitive skin of her neck. Once upon the time, sh...
Hands resting on a smooth balustrade, their pale colour contrasting nature, she was frozen. There was something wrong with her hands, something very wrong. They were …. They should be …. She could not catch that instinctive feeling, explain her certainty...
He loved the satin of skin under his touch, loved the sounds of desire, exertion and eventual satisfaction. It was a carefully crafted symphony in his hands. There had been pain, wounded pride, bruised skin, broken shards of a life falling to the floor, b...
You have to watch a lover to seduce them, to truly reach their core and gain that most intimate of surrenders, to hold their shivering form in your arms, replete by the power you have had over them. It starts on the day you see them, see them for the firs...
