|Subject: Sanglant - Beyond the Thrusts - Chapter 17 Suggestive
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Date Posted: Thursday, October 28, 01:42:23am
In reply to:
Jennifer S. and Loveroy
's message, "Sanglant - Beyond the Thrusts - Chapter 17 and on" on Thursday, October 28, 01:27:58am
The couple stood silently, hand in hand by the burning fire, their gazes lost in the memories of their pasts. Nikita, the most talkative of the two remarked, “Strangers took care of both of us Michael, and we turned out alright... like twins separated at birth.”
Michael kissed the hand he held and smiled whispering, “Are you going to finish the cake?” Successfully changing the conversation.
As always Michael erected walls when faced with the unpleasant task of rehashing his past. Michael’s march to adulthood and the man he was today, although not difficult from the standpoint of finances and creature comforts, was nevertheless lonely. Michael felt just as abused in his life by his circumstances, as Nikita felt about her own experiences. In Michael’s eyes, worldly comforts were no substitute for human warmth, and his personal history made it impossible for the man to have ever opened up to love.
Nikita enthusiastically remarked after quickly recuperating her composure, “You bet; it is a huge piece of Mississippi mud pie, we can share.”
Both sat on their respective places by the coffee table as Michael asked, “Mississippi what? This is a chocolate mousse gateau with a hint of Cointreau.”
“No, no. My American college roommate was from the South of the United States and her mom would send her care packages that we shared - Mississippi mud pie… You haven’t tried it, how would you know what it is?” She said taking a piece into her mouth after feeding Michael from the same fork.
“Mmm, the menu called it Cointreau chocolate mousse cake. Are we sharing for a reason?” Michael relaxing again bantered back.
“Yes we are sharing for a reason, this is called saving our resources.” She fed him again and smiled broadly continuing, “Let me teach you a lesson, don’t always believe everything you read.”
Michael was chewing the cake she was feeding him and apprehensively enjoying each morsel and each movement of the woman’s proximity. She had scooted closer to him, facing him, their knees touching, the position ‘familiar’ to her and to Michael foreign. She would not only feed him cake but also would blot his mouth with the hotel-monogrammed napkin.
Michael said pointing at the battered and soggy copy of JAMA lying on a side table. “Do you believe what you read in that journal?” His thoughts traveling momentarily to the letter folded neatly and laying now on the top chiffonnier drawer.
“Not everything,” she said standing and moving again to get milk from the fridge, “Do you want some milk?”
It was obvious to Michael that she had become more comfortable with him; her robe slipping again. Too bad his discomfort at her show of skin was not making him relax and neither was it disturbing her, “I am French Nikita, I drink my desert with wine and then strong coffee.”
She giggled and hurriedly brought a tall glass of cold milk to the table and after drinking greedily an endearing milk moustache appeared around her sensual mouth, “Here Michael, try it my way. Relax, have fun - and anyway I am a tea drinker,” she answered and helped him drink the milk holding a hand beneath his smiling mouth.
At the site of the handsome man’s eyes affixed on hers while drinking milk, and as if reading his mind she whispered, “It is going to be a long night.”
Michael, after drinking a couple more sips of the milk, reached a hand to her face and resting his index finger on her chin, gently wiped the milk from her lips with his thumb. Her mouth was slightly opened and her eyes closed from the warm feeling the man’s gesture produced. She instinctively licked her lips and subsequently his thumb, which stood motionless at the lustful feel of her tongue.
The spontaneous move also elicited a deep breathe from the man and his eyes shuttered as she next sucked his thumb with gusto and she grumbled, “Now on you… it tastes like chocolate mousse gateau with a hint of Cointreau.”
Michael didn’t move for he wanted her to be the seductress, and he had to agree that the swell of her breasts peaking through the gaping robe had captivated him already. He was allowing her ample opportunity to make another move and she did. With her other hand she removed icing from the plate and placed the index finger in his mouth. She was feeling a bit out of control and she reigned in her wild side long enough to ask what was really important to her.
Nikita asked, pausing to enjoy the moment and then again putting a forkful of cake in her mouth, “Are you married?”
Michael smiled, watched her mouth chew as the creamy frosting lingered on her lips and her tongue darted out to capture it. He uttered softly, “No.”
She took another sip of the milk, picked up his thumb this time and placed it to her lips, “Are you with someone?”
Michael again wiped the mixture of chocolate and milk from her mouth and this time plunged his thumb in her mouth, “No.”
Nikita sucked purposely now, her teeth raking the digit, as she whispered, “Neither am I.”
Their mouth so close they could have kissed, their eyes so intense they could have ignited, the mood so right they could have gone at it right there on the Persian rug. Talk about a sexually charged moment and between two stranded strangers no less. Michael took a sip of milk and then a piece of cake from the plate using his fingers. Placing his index finger in his mouth, he quickly moved to lick her slightly opened lips.
Then he finished by putting his chocolate covered thumb in her mouth again murmuring quietly, “Good” and then deepened a kiss after licking the chocolate from the corner of her lips.
Michael was again in control of the moment, and realized that this was much too early to take it all the way. He separated, stood and said, “You must take your espresso black, with two sugars and the zest of a lemon rind.”
He gestured so so she would follow him, but Nikita was rooted to the floor; chuckling he helped her up and pulled her towards the kitchenette remarking, “Now let’s see if we have all the accoutrements to make after dinner coffee.”
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