He wants it all

by Marilena Barbagallo

  I'm in ecstasy.

  I'm in delirium.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “I'd like to.”

  “Trust me.”

  “If I do, you'll hurt me again.”

  I cling her closer to me, my lips are on her neck that smells of purity. She is so pure that I'm afraid of contaminating her.

  “I'm trying, Ambra. I'm trying to make you feel good,” I hide my head in her hair, she caresses my back, she is so sweet that I don’t think I deserve it.

  “Why did you treat me that way this morning?”

  “Because you hurt me.”

  “Couldn't we talk about it instead of running away?” She's trying to pull my face away from her neck, but I counterforce it. I want to stay here forever. When she understands that I don’t want to move away, she begins to caress my head and I swear to the God, of whom I'm starting to believe in, that I have never felt as safe as in this moment.

  “I'm always afraid to go wrong with you, so I do the only thing I am able to do.”

  “What?”

  “Hurt you.”

  I am deeply ashamed of the words I'm saying and holding her in my arms, continuing to hide in her hair, is the only thing I can do, the only circumstance that allows me to open up. She is understanding it and goes on talking while her hand keeps going down and caressing my head.

  “And me, Krum? Do I hurt you?”

  I am surprised by the question. If I say yes, she'll understand that I am not indifferent about her, but probably my behavior has already made my feelings clear enough. I've also told her that she hurts me and considering that I am disgustingly vulnerable, I reply sincerely.

  “You are the only one able to kill me with a single word.”

  I feel her take a long breath, her chest swells and her breasts press on me, making me impatient. I'm always so damned rigid when she touches me and it is becoming exhausting.

  “Krum,” she shakes me a bit, hoping that I remove my head from my new favorite hideout.

  “No.”

  “Don’t you want to move away?”

  “If I move away, I won't be able to get closer anymore.”

  “What makes you think so?”

  “I don’t deserve it, so I'm enjoying the moment.” To loosen the tension, my hands grasp her butt and fondle it. “I take advantage of it till I can,” I joke, but in the meantime I touch her everywhere, as if she could vanish from one moment to the next.

  She laughs out loud and I start feeling safer, especially when I feel her lips on my neck, so hot, so soft and so intimate.

  “What do you say if we talk a bit?” she asks. I shake my head like a naughty baby, continuing to breathe the scent of her hair. “I'm sure you are able to have a civil conversation.”

  I move away from her, because I'm really risking to suffocate being buried in her hair. The light blinds me and I realize it was nice to be in the dark on her, I was... in peace.

  I take her face in my hands and I have a different woman in front of me. She is not the one who was insulting me a few minutes ago or the one who was screaming to let her go. In front of me I have a woman whose body is crying out in desire, from every corner. Her eyes are gazing at me, her lips are wet and her tongue doesn’t hide desire, her eager breathing inflates her chest in an unmistakable request. She wants me. I want her. I'm telling her, fuck it!

  “Later we can talk, now I want you.”

  “And if we first talk and then… well…”

  “Absolutely not!”

  “Can't you let me win just once?”

  “And do you think it's a victory for you not to have me?”

  She looks at me from head to toe as if she was plotting the dirtiest scenes that her mind has ever imagined.

  “Is it a victory for you to have me?” she says sweetly, stealing the little space that separates us. “Am I a prize?” She heads to my lips and I feel her teeth grasp what they want. I let her bite my lips and I close my eyes, imagining her mouth elsewhere. “Answer, Krum! Am I prize, am I your object? Am I the desire of a moment, a problem to solve?”

  She manipulates the mind so well. She wants to violate my brain.

  Okay baby!

  I turn her, in a fast move that makes her gasp. My hand reaches that beating flower that, I know for sure, will be soaked. I caress her bud and I am shocked to feel that she wants me shamelessly.

  “You're already inundated. I feel it through the jeans.”

  She's utterly scorching and damp.

  She pushes her ass up against my erection that - I'm sure - is ready to explode.

  “Answer, Krum!” she insists panting. “Am I a prize? Am I just a whim?”

  “I've told you before!” My hoarse voice vibrates on her lobe. Her head is abandoned on my chest. My fingers are massaging her, succeeding in penetrating her jeans and finding the right spots. “I've told you that you are all for me,” I repeat.

  “And what do you want?”

  “Everything!” I cannot resist anymore. “I want it all!”

  28

  AMBRA

  I don’t know what Daddy is thinking looking at me from up there, but in this moment I have no intention of refusing the contact of the sweetest man I've ever known. What a contradiction! Yet. that's the way it is. I know that I’ll cry, I know that when I'm by myself, I’ll realize that I was wrong again; but now I know one thing for sure: in your life you don’t have to repent about what you are doing, especially when what you are doing is the only thing that makes you happy. Whether it's wrong or not, I don’t care. I was happy last night in his arms, I was happy this morning as we were making love and I'm happy now that he's holding my hand. I don't care about what was there in the midst, about the past or about a hypothetical future. I just want him, now, I want to be with him, now, I want to be his at the same time he decides to give himself to me, in the moment when I also feel him mine.

  Sometimes, enjoying the present is more than living thousands of past or future lives. I look into his eyes and think that if they gave me the chance to choose to live, my life over again, a life in where he isn't there, I'd refuse without repentance. I wouldn't refuse for just a moment, to experience this exact moment in which his eyes are looking at me as if I were the most precious thing he owns.

  Krum is like the summer rain: it suddenly arrives and ruins a beautiful day, but it regenerates you and brings that breeze that takes asphyxia away. Krum is like a snowstorm that covers everything and imposes itself with its thick white blanket. Krum is like a tsunami that retreats to get away from reality and then crashes everywhere when its anger becomes its only tool of communication. Krum is, at the same time, the opposite of what he is: he is hard, but sweet; strong but weak; hot, but cold; cruel, but good; violent but delicate; selfish but generous. I could go on endlessly and amaze myself more and more by discovering that he is really the two sides of an incredible medal.

  And then he is pure sex walking. In this I can only find synonyms and not antonyms, because he is handsome, wonderful, virile, strong, exciting, a worthy God of this Temple, but perhaps I've already said that, or have I just thought it?

  We reach one of the many doors that always intrigue me. When I'm with Krum I feel like I'm living a constant adventure, good and bad (more bad than good).

  He looks at me with an unconscious air, breathless, as if he can't believe he has me with him again.

  “What's behind this door?” I rest my cheek on his firm arm and I feel his lips on my head.

  “It is the wing of the five senses.”

  My curiosity becomes unsustainable and I myself lower the handle. When we go thru the door, we aren't in a room but really in a wing.

  The space is circular, very large, there are no windows, but only five doors along the wall that seems to have no end. I turn myself around, observing the frescoes painted on the wall from where, at a calculated distance, these doors appear. Observing the environment, my head is spinning, it's as if we were inside a circle that comp
letely closes off the space. I position myself in the center and look up, observing the naked portraits that seem to fall on us.

  Krum's voice comes to me suddenly, hoarse, full of expectation.

  “I love watching you when you have that curious expression.”

  He brushes my hair off my shoulder and this simple gesture gives rise to a fluttering that stops at the height of my nape. For the moment.

  “So this is the famous wing of the five senses.” I close my eyes and concentrate on accepting another thrill that his lips on my neck give me. “What's behind the doors?”

  It is difficult for me to reason if he continues this way.

  “Do you know the five senses, Ambra?”

  “Yes,” I sigh, his cool tongue is tapping the lobe of my ear.

  “Each door represents one of five senses,” he whispers.

  Does he do it in purpose? Does he want to drive me crazy? I re-open my eyes because I no longer feel his touch on me, I'm already missing it. He raises my chin demanding my eyes, I give them to him automatically. It's a gesture that he often repeats and I intend to exchange.

  “There's the room of sight,” he says, staring at me. “The room of smell,” his nose caresses my neck and I feel him smelling with a deep breath. “The hearing room,” he whispers to my ear. “The tact room,” he grabs my buttocks that lets our sexes fit perfectly. “And then…” he reaches my lips. “There's the room of taste.” And he kisses me.

  It's a slow and patient kiss, in which our tongues don’t fight as they have always done, but they meet, embrace and make love.

  When he stops kissing me, I feel like I've left a piece of me in him and I cannot help but think that it might be the same for him as well.

  “Do you want me to choose one of these rooms?”

  “Yes, and you're going to choose it without knowing what's behind those doors. You choose the room, but only I know the content.”

  “Who assures me that the door I choose is the one corresponding to one of the five established senses? Knowing you, you could change it and decide for me.”

  “The good thing about the wing of the five senses is that you must blindly trust your guardian.”

  I step away leaving my eyes on him who begins to show how much he wants me. I've never seen a man responding to my body as impatiently as Krum does. I happened to go out with other guys, but none of them are comparable to him. In nothing.

  “What do you do in the room of sight?” I ask.

  I feel him behind me, his hands rest on my hips and I don’t stop him from pulling me because I desire the contact with his manhood. I sway my hips and he sighs on my shoulder.

  “In the sight room you look.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I could decide to look at you or you could look at me.”

  I turn around and look for his eyes.

  “Looking at you doing what?”

  He extends his face and traces a trail of kisses along my cheek and then down my neck. The light and delicate contact of his lips is sending me into delirium and is leading every sense to my nub.

  “Would you like to look at me while I'm touching myself?”

  Oh, God.

  The image he's just built in my mind pulsates between my legs as if I already have his fingers there.

  “I may like it,” I admit. Krum's muscular and firm body panting in all its beauty while his hands are giving himself pleasure, is something damned sinful. “What do you do in the smell room?”

  He grabs my hair behind the nape but he isn't violent, he's possessive, exciting and extraordinarily seductive.

  “There, I could blindfold you, tie you and…”

  “Okay!” I cut him off, I cannot take it anymore! “I want to choose a room. Now!”

  He smiles with malice. He's so beautiful when he laughs and it's so rare to admire that serene expression that clearly shows that he freed his mind to welcome only me.

  “Point to the room you prefer.”

  He holds my hand and I look at the five doors around us. I want to choose well, I don’t want to be tied, so I hope not to point to the smell room. It would be a torture not to see or touch him, as it would be just as painful to see him as he touches himself. Oh, God… Krum that touches himself. I already know that this image won’t make me sleep anymore. I really hope to indicate the tact room, which is certainly the one that would allow me to touch him and to be touched.

  “I choose this one,” I say, dragging him to the third door.

  “Sure?” he smiles as if I have chosen the door to paradise.

  “Absolutely! Why that face? You won’t lie to me, will you?” He says no with his head and does it in such a sexy way that I'm gonna strip of my clothes off. “What did I choose?”

  “You chose the room I wanted.”

  “Oh, what a coincidence!” I tease him. “Is it possible that suddenly became the room that you want?”

  “You must trust me.”

  “Okay, are we going in or not?”

  My impatience is funny to him, I'm just about to explode.

  He opens the door and when we go in, I am... huh, I don’t know.

  “Krum, it's a bedroom.”

  “What did you think it was?”

  Maybe I was thinking of finding all the typical instruments of the sadistic rulers, instead it's a common bedroom.

  He goes to the curtains and opens them to get light.

  “We don't need objects, but only our fantasy,” he says coming toward me.

  The statement is quite promising. I certainly wouldn't have liked handcuffs and whips, and, then, Krum is a man who uses his hands, he doesn’t need to hit a woman with strange instruments, just a touch to give the desired effect.

  “Can I know what room I chose?”

  “You chose the room of taste.”

  “Oh.” Taste, mmh, then… he has already tasted me, it's my turn to do it. I cannot wait.

  “Do you want it to be taste for you or for me?” he says. I don't know what to say.

  “Taste for both of us?”

  “This is what I wanted, too. We're more similar than I thought.”

  He surpasses me and goes to a small fridge. He pulls out a bottle of champagne and opens it. It's all very strange. What is the need of a sex wing when we have two bedrooms all for us? Then I remember the Sect and begin to imagine the kind of perverts I might have to deal with.

  I come close to Krum who gives me a glass of champagne. I surprise him drinking it all in one gulp. I hope he understands that I need him and that I don’t care about the circumstances, but then I realize that maybe he is trying to do things perfectly, to show me he is a man able to wait , able to control himself and not as wild as he usually is. I'd like to tell him that I like him more when he's wild, but I don’t want to ruin his good intentions and I give him the chance to experiment with me.

  I put the glass on the dresser near the bed and I move my fingers onto the first button of his shirt. Krum's sigh reveals how much he is holding back and I cannot help but smile.

  “Why are you smiling?”

  “You're thinking of me,” I reply.

  “You are here and I think of you, it's normal.”

  I move to the second button.

  “No, I meant, you're thinking of me and not of yourself. You're trying to be the man you believe I deserve,” I go to the fourth button.

  He looks at me proudly, as if he were happy with my ability to read his mind.

  “Isn't this the way you want me to be?” He blocks my wrists and traps them behind my back.

  “I want Krum,” I pant when he presses on me. I shudder and I feel my legs give in.

  “You deserve more.”

  “I know what is better for me,” I whisper on his lips and he releases my wrists.

  “And what is better for you?”

  “This,” my palms open on his chest, now exposed. I pull his shirt out of his jeans and let it slide down his arms. The vision of those muscles cau
se a violent shock to my lower abdomen. I need this man so desperately. “This is the best thing for me,” I pant, clenching a nipple with my lips. His pectorals contract under my lips, he is divine.

  I trace a path of kisses down his abdomen, stop on his belly button and kneel at his feet.

  “Ambra,” he swallows and closes his eyes.

  “We are in the room of taste, Krum. I want to taste you.”

  I snatch the fly and pull down his jeans dragging the boxers with them. His erection is the most attractive I've ever seen before, the aesthetic effect that it has on his body makes him the sexiest man in my eyes.

  When he is finally completely naked, I caress his firm buttocks and near slowly.

  “No, wait!” he stops me. “A princess can't kneel down.”

  I am petrified by that assertion. I don’t move and only when he pulls me up, caressing a cheek, I realize that this, also, is Krum. He can be wild, but also respectful, gentle, caring and thoughtful. He knows how to make a woman happy.

  “I don’t want you on your knees. Not today.”

  He lies down on the bed and puts his hands behind his head. The vision of his nude body standing out from the blue silk sheets is something I would like to immortalize forever. So I look at him meticulously, hoping to engrave such beauty in my head.

  “You still have that expression,” he says.

  “Because I'm looking at a masterpiece,” I specify. He smiles so wide that it seems like a miracle, until he becomes deliciously overpowering again.

  “Strip!”

  Oh, God, when he uses that tone, when he looks at me that way… I don’t need him to repeats it and in a moment I'm naked getting on the bed.

  “Come here on top of me.” I do. “I want me behind you.”

  I look at him puzzled, but I do so. I sit on his belly, showing my back, I want to push on that inviting rod, but he stops me.

  He moves my hair to one side and I begin to feel his fingers caress me all over. Every piece of his skin that wanders on my body produces a tingling that re-energizes all my senses.

  “Krasiva,” he whispers. If he starts with the Bulgarian, it'll be the end. “Moya.”