The winds of a storm (1)

Vera sighed, her feet colder than ever. That man didn't seem intentioned to move further, and her clothes wouldn't be ready for a long while. All of a sudden, the idea of having a blanket made some sense.

She opened her mouth to accept, turning her head a few degrees only. She found him so close that it startled her. He was leaning on the armrest, his face just a few centimetres from hers.

She was bent towards him as well, unable to fight against that attraction for too long. She had accepted she would end in his arms, one millimetre at a time. However, when it happened, she wasn't expecting it.

He was as close as to feel his breathing, and she lost herself in his eyes. Those green, astonishing gems made her forget about any cold or uncomfortable situation.

He noticed how she didn't back away, so he got even closer. His lips almost brushed against hers when a sound from afar made them both wince.

«Oh, damn it,» he cursed. «I forgot the window open, and a door must have slammed because of the wind. I'll be back soon.»

He got up, and it hurt him almost as much as it hurt her. She followed him with her gaze, immovable until he disappeared from sight. Then, she pressed her hands on her chest and closed her eyes to calm down. Why was her heart beating so fast?

It was just a kiss, maybe a night together. Why was she so concerned?

«No,» she whined. Why was her body reacting so fiercely to him while she used to ignore any other male she had met?

No one before could be compared to Neven's looks, but was that all? Was she as superficial as to be charmed by a face alone? Or was it the way he exuded confidence, even power? He knew the effect he had on her, and he wasn't having any thought of stopping. He would take advantage of his charms on her, and that realisation made her quiver.

When he came back, he found Vera battling with her principles, her hands clenched in fists and her expression resolute.

He wrapped her in a blanket, keeping the ends between his fingers almost like a rope preventing her from running away. She sighed at the soft material, relieved her legs and shoulders were covered.

But then, she noticed how his grip wasn't leaving her. He was still holding the blanket, pulling her closer as delicately as to make it feel like a caress. Their faces were a few centimetres apart when she closed her eyes and split her lips, and his mouth found her. He didn't press any further when she winced but waited for her to be ready before deepening the kiss and using his tongue.

Vera clenched the soft material under her when her head started spinning. Could just a kiss make her feel so good? She was completely at his mercy, her defences long gone, and her body surrendering to Neven's breathing. He hadn't even touched her yet, but she was tingling whole.

He sat on the sofa, next to her, without letting go of the blanket. It was a way to keep her close, to prevent her from running away.

The burning in her stomach, crossing her whole from her lungs to her lower parts, made her wonder what had she done wrong before. She had never ever felt so desired, and she had never desired anyone so much. Even her love experiences - very, very few and almost non-existing - had no room to compare with a single touch from that man.

He pushed forward, slowly guiding her to lie on the sofa. He pressed her on the cushions, blocking her between his arms. The blanket slipped away, already forgetting its purpose. Not that it was needed anymore: Vera didn't feel chilly anymore, not on a single spot on her skin.

On the contrary: she felt burning from inside out, her fingers tingling from the need to do something, anything. Her cheeks were flushed, but not of embarrassment as she would have expected. But of excitement, of expectation.

Her eyes shined, her lips curled up in a discreet smile when they weren't busy kissing. When Neven touched her, she felt wanted. It was as if he knew her, somehow. As if he wanted something more than just a night of passion and parting ways forever.

She remembered they would never meet again. She wouldn't go to Paris again, and he would work and live far from where she lived. They were destined to that night only.

That thought made her relax. If they never met, she could allow herself to lower her guard.

She let go of the blanket, letting it slip even lower and finally on the floor. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged him in. It was her first action done towards their common goal, and Neven sensed the change in her mood.

As if she had let go of something, maybe just thoughts that were worrying her. However, he didn't forsake that chance and deepened their kiss. Her soft moans and sighs guided him when he caressed her neck, moving the wet locks of her hair away.

His fingertips moved lower, to her shoulder. He pulled the neck of the shirt, uncovering her white skin. Since there was no resistance, he could move forward.

His lips landed on her neck and moved down to her shoulder. His tongue caressed her skin playfully, until his teeth grazed her shoulder.