I kissed him like he was my God, and I his protector. I kissed him with a desperate, dark wildness. I kissed him hard with my tongue, my teeth in utter abandonment. A storm built in both of us as he laid siege to my desire, his hands sliding down my body, clasping my ass, entering me with a savage drive. At that moment we became lost in our universe as two uncomplicated fucking beasts. In that flash instant, he intoxicated me in a frenzied desire for his sheer physical strength, for his passion, for his stimulation, my life fueled by his breath. I convulsed from the savagery of his kisses, his fucking, penetrating with callous intent and right then I knew I could never be without this man in my life. My intellect captured, frenzied lust exploding as he pummelled me I clung on fucking him as if my life depended on it. It was the one fuck of a lot of fucks.
What I did not know then is that my life would become depending on his fucking me. In my longing for the euphoria that his passion leads me to, I gave him every piece of myself, every thought, every dream, every fear, my sheer physical strength, my soul. And with the bones of my life exposed to his carnal desires, no longer protected by skin, my life in the heart beat of the craving disintegrated like a rotting skeleton. He was hard and skillful and persistent and had a mortal heart. Even with all my super powers, I was never going to survive his prowling presence.
Our Romantic attraction was like some mysterious chemistry, a storm of electrified senses that overcame us. Our vision one off loveliness or hunkiness standing near. Flutters erupted in the belly. The heartbeat quickened. Adrenaline rushed to the bloodstream. Hallucinogenic feelings of intoxication drenched the brain. During opening stages of our romance and subsequent passion, the brain was awash in drug-like chemicals. It was a natural high, and like drugs, the feeling became addictive.
My drive for love, for closeness caused me to become a junkie, to make bad choices and impede my ability to move away from the “amphetamine-like high” of the beginning of our romance. Eventually, I was plunged into gut-wrenching despair, this rocketing from the high and lows of my craving for Chris, who fed and starved my addiction.
The wild, mercurial relationship shackled me to an opiate-like anxiety. I was living on the edge of life. I longed for serenity, for the harmonious security of attachment. I was so stuck in the addiction I did not sense that Chris’s developing ambivalent attitude to our relationship, to my addiction, was killing me, and he was on a high from my slow destruction.
This is story of Eventide Love.
We are on the way with Eventide Love; blog to book. A factual fiction, psychological, erotic thriller based on the Presidential Election set in Ireland 2011/2012.
If you would like to receive a book launch offer especially for all of you as loyal followers and fans, please register below. Your details will not be shared. I am wracked with doubts and insecurity about my writing but am lucky to have a wonderful editor, Amy Scott, holding my hand.
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