All Chapters of 365 Days Of Pleasure: Please Me!: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

“I wish we could stay like this forever”, are the words that leave my lips, before I succumbed to the will of slumber. I’ve had it on my mind for so long, it would be wrong to not let him know what I feel inside. But now that it’s out, it suddenly doesn’t feel right anymore. Because I’m human and he’s nothing like any of us. He’s a demon and he’s royalty. Scratch that, he’s the Royalty. But most importantly, I shouldn’t let these little actions of his that say more than they should, become an addiction to me. Because I’m married and just because they shouldn’t. So when my eyes blink open about an hour later, my heart calmed and my emotions resting at the back of my mind, the weight of those words press me down, just as much as the guilt does. Because I know that we can’t be. Even after all the sex, the yearning to reach for each other and live out every moment, it can’t be. And it hurts my heart to be in the middle of all these. And I keep using my marriage as an excuse when

My head would’ve almost snap from how hard it whips around, searching for the source of the voice. It’s deep, smooth, but has that just-awoken morning touch to it. At first, it’s not familiar to my senses. It doesn’t even occur to me how foreign my surroundings seem to be. The golden drapes hanging right above the bed, cascading down from either sides of the gigantic bed, might I add. As compared to my same old boring bedroom interior, this one has a few artworks hanging on the auburn walls. There’s a large floor-to-ceiling window to my left, auburn blinds covering the view and little bits of the the early morning light seeping through the little cracks. There’s a burgundy colored door by the window, that I suppose leads to a bathroom. To my right stands the man that was just in my dreams. The man I had done so many wrongful and sinful deeds with in just one fantasy book. It’s unbelievably hard to fathom how real his beauty is. Even as he leans against the doorframe, a

That day, when night turns up, I couldn’t get an ounce of sleep, plagued by Jamie’s unexpected marriage proposal. I tossed and turned in the sofa, blanket riding lower and almost falling, leaving me cold and exposed every damn time. Guilt and frustration smack me in all angles, making it hard for me to find any rest. Jamie’s sudden change in character calls for alarm. To say that I’m concerned is an understatement. His words are fucking etched into my mind, echoing for as long as my mind keeps wandering to that part of my thoughts. The genuine look in his eyes just make everything far from being okay. Breathing ragged, beads of sweat scattered on my forehead, I push myself up, sleep wearing away from my senses. I rub my tired face with both palms, casting a sideways glance at the wall clock. The ticking hands crawl slowly over the numbers, taunting me with the late hour. It's past 2 a.m., and exhaustion is creeping in, but my mind refuses to shut down. Sleep remains elusive

“Are you sure you two will be alright?”, I echo, glancing back at Sandy and Jamie as they stood by the doorway of our house, a sad smile on my face. Jamie yawns. His shoulders press against his ears, mouth stretching wider as the seconds past, the rest of his face scrunching up. It’s too early, yes, it’s obvious from the still dark sky, little dots staining the black blanket. Sandy, however, is still very much awake. Having helped me pack my bags late into the night through to the crack of dawn. This is it. Didn’t even take me long to pack my bags. I would’ve used it as an excuse to stay longer. The brown envelope, as I opened, held a first class plane ticket, and a hotel key card that I could only guess belongs to the hotel I will stay at in the new country. The driver waits impatiently, he’s been doing that for the past hour. Oh if eyes could kill, I would be six feet beneath the ground, his death stare calls for that much. The deepened lines on his forehead are evidence of

“You shower first. I’ll try to see if I can get a separate room” Stella’s not easily swayed by his earlier mentioned excuse for why they’d have to share a room. In fact, she had caught his eye twitching once when her gaze refuses to leave his face, in suspicion. Could be mistaken, who knows? But it’s too obvious to be the fault of an unfocused vision. And well, hearing her say she’d find out by herself, kinda puts Luca in a tight spot. That would mean that she’d crack through his lie. Maybe even start making assumptions of her own. It’s bad for the efforts he’s making to get her to trust him. Oh, but what’s even bad is how easily his forehead creases, giving away his guilt. He’s done it so often, he would’ve developed wrinkles by now if he weren’t immortal. By the time his eyes force themselves to look up at her, Stella’s sharp gaze is already fixed on him, arms crossed over her chest. While her scowl dares him to utter a word to save his face, her slow approaching steps ma