They seemed to reach the Rue de Bacilli
in a blink. He thrust euros at the driver and left the cab, so glad the
rain had stopped. When he slipped through the gate, his steps slowed as
he approached the keypad. He tried to relax. Earlier he’d been anxious,
now adrenalin fueled him. Pressing the button, Michael waited. A minute
later the blue light came on and he stared into the camera, breathing.

When
the door buzzed he slipped inside, climbed the stairs and found
Priscilla standing at the door in her PJs, giving him a questioning
look. Her face was devoid of makeup, her hair in a loose bun atop her
head. 

Without a word, Michael approached and she stepped back.
Their eyes locked. He walked into the apartment and closed the door. The
air ripened around them. 

Priscilla opened her mouth to speak but closed it when he took her hand and pulled her toward him.

Michael
brushed his lips across hers, gently pulling the clip from her hair.
When the silky mane fell, he cupped her head; and they stood that way
for a long moment, neither moving. He inhaled her powdery scent. When he
finally kissed her again, he was hungry for reassurance. Her hands went
up his arms and she squeezed his shoulders. 

Michael lifted her
against his body; their kiss grew more intense. He slid the thin strap
of her top off her shoulder, exposing one of the things he loved most
about Priscilla’s body. He bent and took her taut, dark nipple into his
mouth, making her sigh and sob at the same time. He lavished it with his
tongue, sucked fervently with his lips. 

As he raised her, she
wrapped her legs around him as her hands worked to unzip his jacket.
Carrying her down the hall, he found the bedroom purely on instinct. He
laid her on the bed and quickly shed his top. Priscilla’s hooded eyes
were on him and he loved what he saw there. Holding her gaze, he slid
off her pajama shorts and tossed them to the floor. Then he moved the
crotch of her undies to one side, exposing another of his favorite
things. He caressed it gently with the pad of his thumb, up, down; her
body trembling as she moaned his name and began 

pushing at his
sweatpants. When he didn’t move fast enough to get them off, she nudged
him back and slid them down herself, then she got him on his back. 

As
she leaned over him, Michael fiercely kicked the sweats from his ankles
as her hair tickled his chest and her tight wetness inched down on him
like a velvet glove, slowly, sweetly stealing his sanity. 

The
ride began slowly, deliciously. Michael caressed her body and raised his
head to meet her nipple, sucking for dear life as the ride got faster,
harder. Her honeyed breast fell from his mouth as their eyes locked and
he felt the approach of his climax. His body trembled as the pleasure
built up inside him, his love for her set to explode. He gripped her ass
with both hands, tighter, trying to hold back. Their sighs and moans
filled the room, the apartment. Her movement got deeper, more measured
as she rode him at slight angles; Michael could feel she was about to
come. He grit his teeth and swore, his body trembling. 

When she came it was violent; her body gripped him like a vice, gushing a warmth so wet, he came inside her immediately. 

Priscilla collapsed beside him, eyes closed, body quivering. The silence that followed their intense cries was deafening. 

Breathing
heavily, his ears ringing, Michael pulled her into his arms, entwining
their legs and kissing her lips, nose and closed eyes. “I’m sorry I hurt
you,” he panted, feeling her fingers caress the hairs on his chest. Her
eyes opened and he could see her tortured heart in them. “Cilla, I
swear on my mother’s grave I’ll never hurt you again.” He watched as
tears filled her eyes and he kissed her again, then trailed kisses down
to her neck where he sucked long enough to leave a mark as she writhed
and clung to him. 

Caressing her nipple he whispered, “Say you
believe me. It’s why I came back.” When she didn’t speak right away, he
got on top of her and parted her thighs. Michael was already hard again,
rubbing himself against her moist clit. Up and down, back and forth.
She cried out, calling his name as her hips left the bed. Her legs
wrapped around his waist as she tried to get him to slip inside.

“Say it,” he said fiercely. “Say you believe me.” 

“I believe you.” 

He slid into her slowly, stretching her inch by inch. “Do you really?” 

She tightened around him as she raised her hips. “Yes,” she whispered. “You’ll never hurt me again.”

“Cilla.” He traced her lips with his tongue. “I love you.” 

“I love you,” she managed as he thrust deeper, awakening the oasis. 

Before
long, Michael’s movements were less rhythmic and took on urgency.
Priscilla’s fingers plunged into his hair and she tensed beneath him
moaning, her eyes closed. 

Looking down and seeing her beautiful
face rapt in pleasure, hearing her sigh his name…Michael lost control
of his movements and died in her body.

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