A pleased smile spread on my lips, my eyes sparkling with anticipation. All I heard was the kiss and nothing else. The remaining part of the sentence was buried inside the abyss…
With permission given, I jumped at my desire, one I had had for a long time. Instantly wrapping my hands around him, my lips crashed onto his. Every fiber of my body leaped for joy as I relished the savory taste of his mouth.
He responded fairly quickly, pushing his tongue inside my depth while I explored every sweetness. I felt an unfamiliar sensation at the pit of my stomach, every inch of my body spasming in reaction to the kiss.
Pushing my mouth deeper into his depth, my grip on his hair tightened, my fingers clinging to the silky texture as I felt a moistness dangling in between my thighs.
In desperation, driven by sheer lust, I slumped my body into him, making him fall onto his back, his body slamming onto the couch.
Now that I was on top of him, I decided to make the most of it by grinding my hips against his protruded bulge as our lips remained locked in a passionate kiss.
I felt a sweet sensation on my bosom, my nipples tingling in excitement as they glided against his muscular chest.
But just as suddenly as it had begun, everything stopped. He pushed me away, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and guilt. I was left panting, my lips still tingling from the kiss, my body aching for more.
“We shouldn’t have done this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he were trying to convince himself to stop.
I didn’t answer, still trying to catch my breath. I knew that if I spoke, it would break the spell, and I wasn’t ready for that yet.
But it was too late. He had already pulled away, his eyes avoiding mine as he adjusted his clothes. I was left feeling exposed, vulnerable, and confused.
“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he muttered, not looking at me.
I nodded, still trying to process what had just occurred. It was as if the intimacy had been like my wet dreams-a fleeting moment of passion that had vanished into thin air.
We sat there in silence for a moment, the tension between us palpable. Then, without another word, he got up and walked away…
I let out a sharp breath, reminiscing about the passionate moment that came to an abrupt end. Just like that, he shut me out again. His repulsion was like jarring a blade through my skin. It hurt, and the pain came crashing down on me. I knew he enjoyed every single moment of our kiss; after all, he proposed it in the first place, and I jumped at it. Why was he pushing me away? His response to the kiss only proved he felt something for me, but he kept denying those feelings, shattering my heart.
He had to admit his feelings, or I’ll make him… Shooting out of the couch, I strode out onto the veranda, following behind him.
“Mr. Clinton!” I yelled, ignoring the tremor in my voice. “Mr. Clinton!” I picked up my pace, running after him. He continued walking towards the living room, ignoring my calls.
“We need to set this straight! You can’t just keep shutting me out like this…” I hollered, my voice filled with raw emotion. “I know you feel something for me, but you won’t admit it…”
My voice quaked in between my last statement, my body shivering under the warm glow of the lights, chills running down my skin. Despite that, I flung the blanket I had wrapped around my body, my feet colliding with the floor as I desperately tried to shorten the distance between us.
Still ignoring me, he climbed the stairs, his steps quickening as he intensified his hike.
Refusing to back down, I followed him into his room, darting inside before he could slam the door…
He instantly pointed his finger at me, his anger palpable. “Stay away from me, Sarah,” he glared, his undertone a warning signal.
I took a step forward, my eyes flickering with defiance. “I can’t stay away from you, and you know that…” I said, taking another step.
Exasperated, he huffed, averting his eyes from me, one hand on his waist.
Silence followed, thin and oppressive, filled with unspoken emotions that had us reeling on the inside.
“Sarah, I can’t love you…” He finally spoke, breaking the silence. Still looking away, he massaged his temples, sighing.
My lips quivered, unable to respond. Why does he keep saying that? His words betrayed his behavior from earlier. He reacted to the kiss; he felt the passion, the sensation, like I did.
Why is he denying it?
“Please love me…” I whispered, my tone pleading and laced with hope. “You can love me only if you allow yourself…”
He shook his head, his gaze flashing with stern disapproval. “This is so wrong… we can’t be together… just… find someone better…” His words came tumbling out, as his emotions stated otherwise.
I was certain there was more than one reason why he kept pushing me away. It wasn’t just because of my father. There was something else I couldn’t wrap my head around.
“Tell me why we can’t be together. I need to know why…” I clamored, my voice laced with steel. “Make me understand…”
“Your father wouldn’t like this, and I don’t like it either…” He responded firmly, as if trying to convince himself. For the first time, I sensed he wanted me-his resolve slowly drifting away, allowing his desire to take over. But all of a sudden, he brushed it off as if it didn’t exist.
“He is my father, and I don’t care if he likes it or not. He has no right over my life anymore! I can make my own decisions, so you should stop holding yourself back…” I said, shortening the distance between us.
“Sarah, let’s end this conversation.” He said, more like an order, expecting me to back down.
“We can’t keep ending this kind of conversation; sooner or later, we’re going to have to face it…” I replied, standing my ground.
My words were the tip of the iceberg; he lost his patience, his face scrunching up as he pointed toward the door. “Sarah, leave my room… now…”
Here he goes with the power dynamic. He wants to use that to intimidate me.
I stood still in obstinacy, refusing to give in to his command.
“Then I’ll make you leave,” he said, finally cracking. He grabbed my arm as he opened the door, and forcefully pushed me out of the room, slamming the door in my face.