#42811 Losing One's Senses

He is a sound sculptor and music is her church. It seems only appropriate that he rendered her deaf.

What he did to her was senseless, but in doing it, he managed to wake up all of her other senses.
She had to lose one.
He who bends sound with such ease made it so she couldn't hear a thing.

She couldn't hear anything.

She could feel their heartbeats beating inside one chest as his pressed against hers pressing against his.
Their skin melted into each others creating one body making a flesh latte
light and sweet
drowning their hips in the rhythmic pulse they couldn't help but dance against
dance with
dance in
they'd heard and sung this song before.
this was their anthem.

She could taste the very rich extreme fullness of his kisses.
His lips are her favorite fruit.
One of her basic food groups; she devours them every chance she gets.
She could taste his breath on her collarbone,
on her stomach,
salivating over each nipple,
sliding against her thighs.
His mouth was everywhere and nowhere at once.

She knew he was talking. She could see his mouth moving. She could feel his lips moving as he pulled each one into her willing mouth. She kissed him so violently she thought she'd torn one those precious fruits she cherished so deeply.

She kissed him with lips,
with teeth,
with tongue,
with arms,
with breasts,
knees,
thighs and ankles.

Their teeth clashed against each other she was so eager to abuse her senses to feel more of him.
See more of him
Taste more of him

She could see him seeing her. His honey colored eyes coating her with his piercing gaze. He stared at her, into her. She could see him seeing her and was afraid of what he'd observe. She could see him looking at all the flaws on her scarred body, mind, and heart.  He could see the things she hid so well from everyone else but could never hide from him. He was still there, still devouring her, still drugging her and her senses.

She could smell his delicious sweat that dripped down his pulsing jugular and rested in a pool in his collarbone. His scent always reminded her of her greatest and worst decisions all in one. With him, she was always her most authentic self and he devoured her in spite of it. She slurped the puddle of nectar up greedily. She could smell the cocktail of his scent mixing with hers creating a nerve gas that lulled her to do whatever he wanted to
but still couldn't hear a thing.
Couldn't hear the sweet nothings she felt him whispering in her neck.
Couldn't hear the longing he mumbled into the sweet spot behind her ear.
Couldn't hear the murmurred melody of moans, the harmony they'd purr as her eyess rolled all the way up into her head.

She could feel her own wetness drowning them both and feel the delight he felt as he rode each wave of their pleasure deeper and deeper inside.
Feel the skin break under her nails as she digs in as he digs in.
Feels the teeth sink into her skin as if his last name was Cullen.

He stole her hearing so that she would only hear him.
And he did it so artfully.
Hear only the growl in his voie when he beckoned her to come closer.
Hear only the longing in his pauses when he spoke to her.
Hear only the possession that was implied in his touch.
Hear how he grabbed hold and pulled her closer than close just......then.

Her missing sense came flooding back to her.
She thought herself dead, killed by him without even trying because all she heard was angels singing. She thought herself dead and surely in paradise because she what she heard was so powerful and strong and unlike anything she'd ever heard before.
She thought herself dead until she felt something warm and wet in the just under her chin and realized she wasn't dead at all.
At least not literally. Le petit mort.

She could hear again, hear him whispering to her....
and she whispered back....

"Again?"

-tygerlily