My little FREAK

Dara awoke to darkness. Narrowing her eyes she could just make out the ornate fireplace in the middle of the room; a stage for the orange and yellow flames that danced ferociously, creating  fluid shadows that swayed and arched against the creamy beige walls. She sat up in bed, firmly clutching the thin white sheet that loosely concealed her pert breasts and naked body. So she had stripped naked last night? Gently massaging her temples she leaned forward, sifting through an array of muddled thoughts. The last thing she could remember was running through the hotel corridors, screaming and laughing as Tunji chased her menacingly. She’d thrown off her heels and flung them at him, laughing hysterically before sprinting down the lush hallway, spinning past and ducking under everything in her path. An old woman had hissed at her angrily, the creases of her cheeks trembling as she shook her head in disapproval. She could still remember the impudence with which she had hissed back. Throwing out her tongue and waggling it every which way, as she roughly hiked up her dress and ran. Whizzing down the halls with the long satin white gown, which once delicately hugged her curves and made her glow with a palpable sense of regality, now hung messily around her waist, revealing the silk white undies that scarcely veiled her curvaceous bottom and blushing folds. Oh Gods, she had flashed the old lady!

Planting her feet unsteadily on the cold wooden floor she fought to control the overwhelming sense of dizziness. Whatever happened last night, it really must have been something. The room looked like the remnants of a bomb site; a muddled array of watery footprints spanned out in every direction, and broken pieces of upturned furniture littered the floor. Summoning all of her energy she painstakingly got to her feet, driven by her determination to evaluate the extent of the damage, only to be thrown back down by a searing pain culminating in her lower back. Wincing, she massaged the throbbing pain. The dim firelight was just enough to highlight the foreign purple bruise trespassing on her soft chocolate skin . It lay there dark, ominous and accusing. What really went on last night? for the first time in a while she was worried, anxiously fretting her bottom lip, which strangely tasted a bit like, -blood?

Her eyes shot to Tunji. He was asleep. Motionless. His tall masculine frame naked apart from the frail sheet knotted between his muscular legs. He looked peaceful, angelic even. His furrowed brows twitched as he snuggled deeper into the thick cushion; last nights adventures most likely crashing their way to the fore. Sighing she ran her delicate fingertips down the smooth crease of his back, indulging in the way his dark hairs seemingly stood to attention in response to her slightest touch. Arousing. Even asleep his body was so receptive to hers. Moving closer she carefully pulled back the sheets; leaving one hand on his back as she made slow languid movements, up and down, up and down, whilst with the other she loosed the sheet from his grasp.

The fluid movement rocked her into a sleep-like state, like she was weightless, a motionless spectator overlooking a frenzied scene:

He was kissing her. The moist softness of his lips, pressing hard and hungrily against her bare skin. Desperate to explore every curve and crevice that his mouth could reach.

Stumbling backwards into the room, smoldering from the heat emanating from his impassioned body, she struggled. Fighting to catch her breath as his kisses consumed her. She was on fire. Burning. And all she could think about was ripping off her clothes. Tugging clumsily at the dress, she fought. Fought to set free from this bondage that weighed her down, restrained her, stopped her from unleashing her desires upon this irresistible man. In a split a second he read her thoughts. His emblazoned eyes set upon hers as he ripped it. Effortlessly yet determinedly. The stubborn material proved no competition for the raw adrenaline that surged through this mans veins. Yet he looked at her, concernedly as if restraining all of his God-given passion to ensure that she was okay. That this fragile being that lay before him was freely yielding to the inner-beast that was about to be unleashed.

Stepping back she looked at him; slowly tracing her fingers over his plump wet lips as she searched within for a response to his unspoken question. The answer she knew undoubtedly. She was his; willingly, yielding, his to be forever. With this in mind, she turned; her hips swaying rhythmically in the cool breeze as she strutted away, seductively and silently to the corner of the room. Standing  there facing him, her naked body stood erect and alert like a predator studying its prey. Before he knew what had happened, like a flash of lightening she had lunged, throwing the full weight of her body into his unsuspecting arms. Unbeknownst to him the sudden gentility of his spirit had thrown her- in full force over the edge of a cliff that she had been dangling over all too dangerously. She wanted him. And by Gods this night she would have him.

Rocking in his arms she groaned. His supple flesh was mouthwatering, like sticky honey yearning to be harvested. Her kisses rained down upon him; blows propelling him backwards till he collided with a table, sending the contents flying across the room until the shattered wine glass remains lay motionless on the hearth rug, and the table lay on its side, battered and nursing a broken leg from the onslaught. Exciting. She was growing crazed with his intoxicating scent, the steaminess of his heated skin as it flexed and bulged against hers, and his lustful groans as she feasted relentlessly on his flesh; kissing, sucking, licking, biting, doing anything to establish that unbreakable closeness. She felt powerful. The feeling intensified as she slid free from his desirous grasp, and slowly slid down his body till she reached it. 

Beneath her penetrating gaze it rose, slowly swelling outwards till fully outstretched, like an eager handshake beckoning her forward. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. Trembling he fought to maintain control, but each slow and sensual lick of her lips was excruciating, made his muscles shudder violently as he squandered every ounce of self-discipline to stop himself from yanking her head forward and consuming him fully. Inclining her head she smiled. A crude and cocky smile. Her hot heavy breaths were electrifying over the ripe crown, which continued to shudder and ache, expectantly. He was powerless. Completely helpless before this stunning female, and this enthralled her; filled her petite body with a daring courage that left her feeling magnified as she moved away.

Shaken and bemused he watched her. Mesmerized by her thick womanly figure as she swayed confidently, enticingly to the glass door. She tapped on it. Her eyes glinting mischievously as they indicated to the waves of cool dark water that lay outside, glistening beneath the moons silver light. “Care for a dip?” she rasped, flinging back the glass door and launching herself into the spine-tingling cold.

*

The rush of cold air permeated his body and senses. He was still in disbelief from her actions. Dara -normally meek, shy and submissive had bombarded him with an onslaught of sexy, defiant and dominant, and he’d liked it.  Her antics had challenged him, provoked him, aroused the ruthless warrior hell bent on conquering this battle. Diving after her into the gleaming water he mused, tonight she will beg for mercy. And so she did.

**

It was her wanton, pitchy screams that yanked her back to reality. Gosh had she done that? Screamed brazenly to the high heavens as he made love to her? Filled her body with unimaginable bliss as he pumped into her ruthlessly, again and again. Now the bruises and the blood no longer seemed foreign; she’d thrown them around with such lustful abandon that the pain of hitting walls and smacking against floors became intoxicating pleasure; she’d kissed him with such savage hunger that she accepted the bittersweet taste of the blood spewing forth from his lips like a willing offering. Blushing, reality dawned on her like a thick and weighty fog. She was what he had yelled time and time again ‘His little freak’.

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