It was a night like any other, the same oppressive silence lingering beyond the door, pushed behind an innocent smile. But maybe it wasn’t the same after all. Maybe something had changed.
Adam, now alone, sitting on the edge of the bed, one leg swinging into the void, let his mind sink slowly, deeper and deeper, into a turbulent whirlpool of images. The dress that caressed her skin like a whispered kiss, proud breasts like an unwritten promise, nipples daringly piercing the thin fabric, long legs stepping firmly on dizzying high heels, as if each step sealed a pact with sin. Tangled sensations and thoughts that took shape and grew ensnared him like a net from which there was no escape. The faint scent of her perfume—the notes of jasmine, rose, and oud he’d sensed on her skin when she kissed him goodbye. A fragrance he now imagined floating elsewhere, in shadowed corners where she wet her lips with rich wine, as crimson as her lips’ lascivious smile, adored by lustful eyes while she traced her fingers through the hair of a man whose face Adam could only guess, vaguely sketch in his weary mind. A shifting visage, slipping free each time he tried to grasp it; a face without contours, but always a strong masculine presence—more commanding, more certain—worthy of her full attention.
Perhaps his dream was just a dream.
For a heartbeat, he allowed his mind a rest, dared to see her lips brushing a farewell against that man’s cheek, her steps shedding distance, drawing nearer to this waiting room of silence and shadows. Maybe something had changed. The flame of hope was quickly snuffed out by a stroll under the stars, hand in hand, her long legs striding firmly on irresistibly seductive high heels toward a new destination—an unspoken declaration that her body was already promised to a man deserving of it. Time fractured in two, and he remained suspended between “before” and “after,” between the moment he thought she was his alone and the moment his sick mind, poisoned by doubt and fevered visions, could no longer be sure. Perhaps his dream was just a dream. Or maybe neither truth nor dream existed. Only him. Only this cramped room.
Demons took life from the abyss of creation, painting a vivid, burning tableau: her pale skin quivering beneath greedy fingers, lips drinking wet kisses, cheeks flushed with the fever of desire, her heart hammering louder still, surrendering without restraint, without hesitation, utterly claimed by her true king. Adam felt his heart race madly, blood boiling fiercely, those images driving him insane—he couldn’t look away from the collapsing nightmare that consumed his soul.
Before him stood a palace chamber shimmering with gold and velvet, draped in silken veils, heavy with the scent of jasmine, rose, and oud. The black, elegant dress now lay twisted on the floor, tangled and useless—an illusion of innocence. The shoes lay discarded near the door, tossed carelessly by the hurried desire and reckless abandon. He saw her golden hair sprawled across the pillow, her moist, longing eyes lost in a stranger’s gaze, those expert, stronger hands gripping her thighs, parting them, his tongue slowly descending her abdomen, consecrating her sacred place brimming with hidden promises.
The man was an elusive shadow, slipping through Adam’s desperate grasp like smoke, yet his presence crushed the room—a relentless force forged in endless endurance. Lethal charm, cold steel muscles, tempered by ruthless patience and merciless experience. Poised, fearless, his iron eyes locked on his prize, devouring every shred of her resistance. His touch, command, and caress intertwined, whispered dark promises only she could hear, pulling her into a suffocating, inescapable web of melting desire.
His tongue pushed her to the edge again and again, a predator toying with its prey, holding her captive between agony and bliss. In his mind, Adam watched helplessly as her eyes glowed with raw fire, cheeks flushed deep crimson, and nipples hardened like steel. The cruelest thought clawed at him: how sweet she would taste right now. An unbearable hunger twisted beneath his skin, bitter as the taste of his own helplessness.
A knot tightened in Adam’s stomach as he watched, powerless, the anticipation slicing through him like a blade. He knew what would follow: the warrior was ready to invade the fortress. A resolute move, awaited with aching impatience, a total invasion consummating the fusion of two bodies, the unconditional surrender. An assault, then another, and another. Skin slapping skin with a wet, melodic rhythm, torn by passion; tender bites; bodies searing against each other. The rhythm built, tender and relentless, each thrust long and deep, shaping her world, distilling the promise of what follows from a past soon to be forgotten.
Their breath, his breath, grew heavy, suffocated. Moans and cries rang in his ears, pounding sounds echoing like unstoppable war drums. Nails digging into tough flesh, breasts trembling, legs entwined, pressing forcefully toward her burning heat—forcing Adam to feel how every fiber tensed, desire twisting into pain, every thrust like a spear piercing flesh, a hammer smashing his insides.
Her body trembled beneath his weight, a deep shudder coursing through her, muscles tightening instinctively as a final desperate grip to hold him there—and then... the flood broke loose, inevitable, searing, filling the chalice with nectar. Adam felt paralyzed by his own imagination—these fiery visions invading his mind, images he could not dispel. He loathed them, yet devoured them with a desperate, greedy hunger.
He hated himself for feeling complicit in her release, in those waves of pleasure drowning her. He couldn’t help but admire her, eyes half-closed, glazed with that strange, blissful haze of abandon. She lay there, breath still heavy from the storm she had summoned, her pale skin flushed with the fire of that shattering release. The sheets were soaked, sticky with the dripping proof of her delight. Adam could feel his nostrils invaded by the scent of her release—raw, sweet, unyielding—mixed with sweat and expensive champagne. And most of all, the heavy masculine scent dripping slowly from her, drowning his mind.
She was more beautiful than ever, a goddess adored by the lustful eyes of another man, bathed in his soft caresses. He could hear her laughter—light and teasing—as he tickled her, softly pinching her in a game only long-time lovers would know. Playful slaps landed softly on her ass, punctuating the disjointed whispers of “bad girl” and “punish you” that danced between them. The sound pierced through the dark fog clouding Adam’s mind, but he couldn’t silence it, trapped behind the walls of his helpless obsession.
The phone vibrated faintly on the bed. He didn’t rush to see it. He knew it would not bring solace, no words to chase doubt away. Probably an "I'll be late, don't wait," sent from the bed where she lay between the satin sheets, raptured and spent, her body heavy with conquest. Maybe she was with her friends, at that restaurant they like. She must be. Another flame of hope, like a pause for his tired mind. He pictured her there, surrounded by warmth and laughter, shielded from the storm raging inside him. The thought was fragile, almost laughable, but in that moment, it was all he had in a desperate attempt to chase the demons away. He held the phone in his trembling hands but remained frozen, not finding the courage to read the message. The more he tried to fight the inevitable, the deeper he was drowning in that swamp of decay.
Time slipped, as it does when nothing changes and everything does, and the bed slowly reappeared. The desire was reborn, stronger now, eager to conquer, to dominate. Now she straddled him, bodies inverted, locked in a circle of shared hunger, a ritual of mutual surrender. Her expert, commanding tongue explored his pride, making him yield at every touch, trembling beneath her mastery. Then her lips closed the circle, embracing, sliding, returning with deliberate hunger, savoring that impressive part of his body, leaving not a single drop of their mingled fluids wasted. His fingers dug into her parted legs, into the swamp of desire freshly ravaged by the wild rider’s assault. Heavy sighs slipped from her mouth full of need, while his hand ruled, playing with the tremors shaking her, guiding her through the storm of shivers. His tongue moved in slow circles, lavishing every corner, while his lips devoured, conquering her with hot, greedy kisses. Sweet whispered commands, moans, and muffled cries lost in damp sheets, the scent of sex saturating the air, marks etched on skin—remnants of a night from another world. Gasping, tears carving silent trails down her cheeks, her ragged breaths caught in a violent dance of surrender and control as she managed to claim him whole, devouring his hardness like a blade sliding into its scabbard.
The final assault came as Adam’s mind oscillated between two vivid images: her mouth welcoming the essence of conquest, savoring its taste like a rare wine before swallowing it whole. The other image took its place with merciless clarity: her pale, delicate cheek receiving the prize she craved. Her red lips stained with the sticky, fragrant explosion, as a seal of total submission. He felt suffocated, incapable of screaming, as his mind, twisting and turning in anguish, constructed and reconstructed those images.
Adam longed to know, to see, to hear those sounds his mind recalled so vividly. But maybe that wasn’t necessary. Maybe the truth was already there—in the wild pounding of his heart, the tight squeeze in his chest, the unbearable ache of loss consuming him in this waking nightmare. Maybe she slept now, peaceful, dreaming of him, only him, amid the warm, heavy scent.
Time slipped away unnoticed as Adam remained lost in his relentless daydreams. A cold shower crashed over him as the sound of her footsteps grew nearer, softer now, more real, gently breaking through the haze. The fragile world he’d built began to ease, pulling him back from the edge. The door opened, and she entered with a tender smile—the same smile he knew—offering quiet comfort.
It was a night like any other.
