She turned over with her body loaded with heat, all those caresses, all those kisses. He knew how to touch her, how to taste her skin to untie her. It was what he sought every time: to release her. Because when she did it she poured out everything she had, she gave herself completely, she was his. She looked at him with her eyes transformed, her pupils dilated and her breathing agitated.
Daniel was initiating the game, but Deanna was dominating it. She exuded a halo of desire that was only for him, because he provoked it, because she had never felt that basic, pure need to love with her body what her heart dictated. Not like this, not with that madness. Seeing her react was everything that made him lose his temper; he had never experienced it with anyone else. And that's why her attitudes puzzled him and at the same time flattered him, turned him on and intimidated him at the same time. How could he not lose his sanity?
She changed her skin, her gaze became seductive and complacent; even the posture of her body mutated. She seemed to offer herself completely, every part of her, all of her. She didn't hesitate, she didn't flinch, sure of herself and of what she felt. Daniel's hands were burning to reach out and caress her again. But he didn't move, he waited, watching her eyes light up more and more. Deanna kissed him using her whole mouth, her lips, her tongue; kissed him as she always did, pulling him into her warmth.
It didn't take much more than one of her kisses to make his head explode; the feel of her body against his, of each of her soft, bristling curves managed to draw sounds from deep in his chest. Hoarse, low, ecstatic sounds. And as if it were a language, she emitted her own as well.
He was blinded, lost, Daniel became "it" that did not let him think, only feel. In a single, sharp movement he took her thighs in his hands and Deanna suddenly felt the coldness of the tiles on her back. He could handle her as if she were made of feathers, in his lewd delirium he measured no strength. In the morning she would have the mark of his fingers on her legs and the mark of his mouth on her neck. And if he could he would fill her with his traces on her skin, like tattoos, so that everyone would see them and not doubt to whom she belonged.
Deanna would greet him with her arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist. Clinging and determined. She would say words in his ear, mischievously to feed him even more. And she succeeded, from those soft, delicate lips that emitted such a sweet voice came the most indecent phrases. He would never hear them outside of their intimacy, but he awaited them, he knew she would incite him and ask for him without any shame whatsoever. And her repertoire was extensive.
-You're gross... -His voice was getting huskier and huskier.
And Deanna would only smile, as if satisfied with her small triumph. Daniel saw the calmness of that smile and all he could do was eat her mouth with desperation. Sometimes catching one of her lips with his teeth, sometimes just sucking her whole. And she poured out more moans, choking, uncontrollable sighs that increased in intensity with every minute.
The heat was becoming unbearable, her body was on fire and the tingles began to crawl up her spine. Sparks formed in her belly like whirlpools. Her grip intensified so much that Daniel felt her nails on his back, she would leave her marks too. And suddenly a white fire spread through every part of her being, pulling her away from reality.
The little contortions and spasms cascaded, he had to hold her tighter to keep his balance. Her face in all its splendor with an expression of pure ecstasy, her mouth open letting out her voice, the curve of her perfect neck, her eyes closed but relaxed, her hair spread out on the wall; an image so sensual and at the same time amazing, it hit Daniel with a mammoth momentum pushing him to free himself along with her.
The calm after the storm found them finishing the bath with much relaxation. With patience and time to catch their breath, they shared the shower, giving each other tender little kisses. Daniel rested his forehead on his wife's wet back and sighed, he could stay like this all night. It was not only because of the exciting moment they had just experienced, but also because of the feeling of stillness that their closeness generated in him. It appeased his demons.
They lay in bed for a while before falling asleep. Deanna with her head on Daniel's chest and him wrapping his arms around her, offering her a safe place. He had once thought that this moment, having her for him like this, would only be a fleeting thing of a drunken night. Now how would he let her go? The weight of her body next to him was such a nice feeling. They would settle and fit together effortlessly. Wasn't it all that way? What started as a battle of tempers evolved into this complicity that soothed their hearts.
Deanna thought fate was very mischievous. She had never met him until that night at Harry's apartment and things happened so quickly. At what point did she fall in love with him? She couldn't pinpoint it, but when Daniel proposed to separate something inside her was screaming at her loudly. She was so overwhelmed by everything he represented, everything he was, his face and his eyes, his big hands and his hidden sadness, that she felt that if she left him something would break.
He continued to read the papers that were forgotten when his instinct was awakened. It scared him a little of the connection he had forged because it was too intense. Not only did they connect in bed (or the shower), but they connected on other levels as well. She seemed to know when he needed his space or when he needed company, when to give him sweet and understanding or "crude" words. They apparently communicated as if they had been together for years. Of course he was scared, if that connection was lost he might bleed out.
- Did you fall asleep? -
- No, I didn't.
- What do you want to do for your birthday? -
- Nothing special. I'd just like us to spend the day together with the kids... Maybe invite Susan... Harry and Laura... -
- You must have friends too, tell them to come -
- My friends are all like Harry and me, are you sure? -
- What does that mean? -
- That we're all rowdy together -
- Never mind, I'd like you to celebrate your birthday as you prefer -
- Well, I'll let you know then... But I warned you, hmmm? -
- And your present...
- There's no need for a present...
- But I want to give you something...
Deanna thought about it for a moment.
- I'd like to visit my mom and my grandmother -
- You can do that whenever you want...
- Yes, but you must come with me. It's about time you met your mother-in-law, don't you think? I have to clear things up for her and I'll feel more at ease if you're with me... -
- We can go on Saturday -
- Well, I'll call them tomorrow to tell them. Thank you.
She settled down a little more and sleep won her over. It was easy to fall asleep like this. Feeling cared for and protected by a man was new to her. Yes, she had had previous relationships, but none like this one. What was it that set him apart from the rest? His dark and distant character, the way he was a proponent of imposing his will, the coldness that often immersed him and his indifference; these were not his best virtues. And yet, Deanna liked that side of him. As she liked this other one where he was sweet and considerate.
He was a loving father in his own particular way. He was attentive to his children, took care of getting them to and from school, what they needed, what they wanted. Harry told her about all the things he did for the little boy when he stopped talking, described his despair and worry and the frustration of not finding a solution. He kept the memory of Emily, painful though it was and tried to keep that memory from hurting Deanna by wanting to store her picture.
Of course it crept into her imperceptibly, a little at a time, and Deanna didn't want to take it away. She could find a balance between what made up her life and this new one she was starting. If he was with her, what couldn't she accomplish? But deep, deep down inside she prayed that this would be nothing more than a passing fling for Daniel. She had a hidden fear that he would tire of it one day, that the excitement would dissipate, that her youth would overwhelm him and ask her to leave. What would she do? She had nothing assured just because of her youth, on the contrary, for her it was a barrier not an advantage. The kind of life Daniel led, the places he moved and the people he frequented was alien to a woman raised in a small family restaurant.