Two passionate people, two insanely talented people, were so consumed in their own world that they couldn’t understand that the world around them would not fathom such a union. For those moments in time, it didn’t matter. For this moment, when she stood down there under the trees and played for him, I knew he had to be in complete awe of her.
I have only heard her play through recordings, and I am always moved and enamored by her at the end of each piece. To have her standing in front of me, eyes closed with fingers swift and sure, I can’t even begin to comprehend the feelings she would have evoked.
She is the mystery that is wrapped tightly around the man I am trying so desperately to unravel.
As I finished the piece, I could feel my heartbeat thunder through my chest. It was always this way after I had performed, but knowing Phillipe was standing somewhere close by made the experience even more arousing and somehow more exhilarating.
“Phenomenal,” he said from behind me.
Turning around from where I now stood, I felt his hands on my face. “You are absolutely without question surreal, like a dream.”
As his breath washed over my face, he entreated, “God, don’t ever let me wake.” Right before his mouth crashed down on mine, and I opened to him immediately.
I could feel the desperate and soul-consuming passion he was holding on to as he reached down to my hand, taking Diva from me. I relinquished my hold, and when his lips left mine, I waited. He moved a little, presumably to place her down, and then he was back.
He straddled the bench I was on and took my mouth with his own. His tongue slid between my lips, and as it rubbed up against mine, I moaned and reached up to clutch his shoulders. He angled his head as his hands smoothed down my sides to move under the bottom of my shirt.
I smiled against his hungry lips. “Is this where you take off all my clothes?”
His shoulders relaxed, and he laughed, the intensity of the moment now eased. “I don’t think I will get anything done, but I’m going to try. I want to wrap a white sheet around your waist and add the F-holes again.”
His fingers gripped the edge of my shirt. “Lift your arms.”
Without question, I acquiesced as he removed my top.
Standing, he moved away from the bench. “I wish you could see all that I do. Then, you could tell by my face just how much I love you. You take my breath away.”
I removed my pants and panties, and stood before him proudly. My breasts rose, like an oblation to him, as I replied with my heart in my hands, “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and, therefore, is winged cupid blind. I don’t need to see you, Phillipe, to know you feel as I do.”
I close my eyes as the final strands of Winter float over me, and I find that I have tears running down my cheeks. Reaching up, I brush them away and wonder at myself.
Last night, I wanted Phillipe with a hunger that I never knew. I felt like he was right there with me. But is he? Or is he always with her?
I’m finding it increasingly harder to believe that anyone would come between the two of them, yet last night, I felt as though he invited me in. As he laid down with me in the gallery, he took me with such force and passion that I felt him hours after.
The most disturbing realization to come from last night is that now I can feel her, too.
Lying in his bed, Phillipe closes his eyes and lets the smooth sounds of the violin float over and calm him. His mind keeps running over last night with Gemma, and no matter which way he looks at it, his continual surrender to his lust feels like betrayal. His betrayal is so deep and painful that it aches like an open wound.
He knows his desire for Gemma is growing. It will likely continue that way, but he can’t seem to shake the overwhelming need he still holds for Chantel. She is still everywhere, and no matter what his body is craving, his mind cannot and would not deny her.
In the studio is where he feels her the most, but that’s expected.
That was their world. No one touched them there. No one tried to come between them.
Up in his studio, there is just him, and there is just her.
“I know you’re watching me,” Chantel mumbled.
He smiled as her gray eyes slowly opened.
“And how would you know that?”
“Because I can feel you,” she told him.
She shifted, so she was lying on her side, just like he was as he watched her.
“I’ve always been able to feel you, right from the beginning.”
He reached out and ran a hand down her hair. “I remember. You looked right up at me. I thought you were beautiful. I needed to talk to you.”
She raised her hand, and he reached for it, bringing it up to rest palm open on his chest.
“You feel my heartbeat?” he asked.
She nodded and tapped her finger. “It’s so strong that I could use this like a metronome and keep time when I play.”
“It beats for you.”
“As mine does for you.”
He reached across the bed, pulling her closer to his side under the sheets, until their legs were entwined and their noses brushed.
“I want you to tell me everything, and I want to tell you everything,” he expressed as eager as a child.
She grinned against his mouth as her eyes shut, and she brought her free hand up to trace her fingers down over his cheek and jaw.
“Everything?” she questioned, and kissed his mouth.
“Yes, everything,” he implored.
“I love you. That is the beginning, and that is the end. That is everything.”
He rolled her over, so she was lying on her back. He followed until he was above her, hands on both sides of her dark hair. He touched the strands gently and looked down into the loving eyes peering up at him. Her eyes were so beautiful that they stole his breath.
Leaning down, he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her reverently. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and he felt her thighs part slowly, allowing him to slide sensually between her legs. When his cock brushed up against her warm mound, her mouth parted against his lips as she sighed.
Her breath was becoming his, their souls becoming one.
“You, Chantel. You are everything,” he told her as he brushed his fingertips across her lowered lids. He closed his eyes and rocked his hips, pressing himself lovingly against her.
“Your lips,” he whispered. “Your eyes, your talented fingers, and your perfect soul. All of that is everything I want, and everything I need.”
Bringing one hand down her body, he traced her warm hip as she lifted up, allowing his hand to move under to her curvy ass. Squeezing it gently, he raised her hips and pushed against her.
“Let me inside.” Gently biting her bottom lip, he pleaded, “Let me inside, and never let me go.”
She arched up, her body wrapped in sunlight, and her thighs squeezed his hips tight while she pushed her wet folds against his pulsating desire. Rocking against her, he felt her juices as they coated the tip of his hard cock. She was so ready, and her body was so needy that she cried out as he teased her with a gentle push, only giving her an inch before sliding back out of her completely.