plane of his stomach, and she touched her mouth to his scar. Her world stopped. So many memories flashed through her. A mud-packed house with two small windows in the front, and a door, loomed in her vision, and she knew there were two more in the back that she couldn’t see. She imagined where she washed their clothes, cooked their meals, and had planted vegetables in the backyard. Somehow she understood this was the house she shared with Sevani when she’d been Nila. Flash after flash showed her their time together, their love. And then he had come home, his smile the same as always, his touch inflaming her, and she’d lain with him. Then everything had turned dark when another Sevani, her Sevani, entered in a rage. The other man, now looking twisted and evil, disappeared, and she met Sevani’s sword. Ayah experienced the pain, the sense of loss, and the shame that she had given herself to another. When she’d died, she could think of nothing but getting back to him, loving him, and needing him. She’d ignored the urge of her soul to travel to the afterlife. She wanted Sevani, and she wouldn’t let him go. Ever! So she’d passed through lives, over and over again, searching for Sevani, unable to rest until she was his again.
And then the memories shifted. She watched Sevani in the hands of a blond-haired woman in a white dress and a golden necklace. She ranted and raved, her tresses flying around her unnaturally as Sevani screamed. Ayah watched his skin boil away only to be rejuvenated. Over and over again he was tortured, and never once did he stop screaming Nila’s name. Finally the woman thrust her hand into Sevani’s chest, blood spraying, and pulled out a glowing, white orb. Ayah didn’t understand what was happening, but Sevani wilted then, gave in to the cruel woman, and said he would do her bidding. Ayah was crying by the time the memories faded away, and Sevani clutched her to his chest. He shifted her and then his mouth crashed into hers. His mouth tasted of desperation now. Every swipe of his tongue was to conquer, every glide of his lips to plunder. White-hot desire sparked through her, chasing the sadness away. His touch sent shocks of light through her. Somehow, now, his touch was different, deeper. She dug her nails into his shoulders, holding on for dear life, as she rebuilt him with all that she had.
He laid her back on the bed, pressing his body into her. His hands were rough as he pushed at her pants and underwear. She kept kissing him as she kicked away her clothes and ran her hands over the X on his chest and down the rippled waves of his abdominal muscles. He tightened under her touch. She could feel the indents above his hip bones that led to his groin, where his muscles were defined. Devil’s horns. She always loved a man who had devil’s horns. She would trace them with her tongue later. For now, she wanted to get him out of his clothes. Nimble fingers found his belt buckle, and she quickly undid it and the button underneath. His shaft, long and thick, pressed against his zipper. She could feel the heat of it through the denim as if he were on fire. She pulled his zipper down, and his cock hit her stomach. A smear of liquid burned her as surely as an inferno. He groaned into her mouth, tilting his head until their teeth almost clashed together. But she didn’t mind. She needed this. They may have wanted a slow, easy burn just moments before, but now something had happened. She could feel her urgency to have him inside her mirrored in his kiss and in the grip of his fingers.
He wrapped his arms around her, one palm cradling her head as he kissed her, and she pushed his pants over his hips. She helped him as best she could to get his pants down as he kicked them off his body. And then he was free. She ran her hands over the broad expanse of his back, memorizing the dips and curves of his muscles, loving how they flexed and tightened as he moved. She found the slope of his buttocks and
And then the memories shifted. She watched Sevani in the hands of a blond-haired woman in a white dress and a golden necklace. She ranted and raved, her tresses flying around her unnaturally as Sevani screamed. Ayah watched his skin boil away only to be rejuvenated. Over and over again he was tortured, and never once did he stop screaming Nila’s name. Finally the woman thrust her hand into Sevani’s chest, blood spraying, and pulled out a glowing, white orb. Ayah didn’t understand what was happening, but Sevani wilted then, gave in to the cruel woman, and said he would do her bidding. Ayah was crying by the time the memories faded away, and Sevani clutched her to his chest. He shifted her and then his mouth crashed into hers. His mouth tasted of desperation now. Every swipe of his tongue was to conquer, every glide of his lips to plunder. White-hot desire sparked through her, chasing the sadness away. His touch sent shocks of light through her. Somehow, now, his touch was different, deeper. She dug her nails into his shoulders, holding on for dear life, as she rebuilt him with all that she had.
He laid her back on the bed, pressing his body into her. His hands were rough as he pushed at her pants and underwear. She kept kissing him as she kicked away her clothes and ran her hands over the X on his chest and down the rippled waves of his abdominal muscles. He tightened under her touch. She could feel the indents above his hip bones that led to his groin, where his muscles were defined. Devil’s horns. She always loved a man who had devil’s horns. She would trace them with her tongue later. For now, she wanted to get him out of his clothes. Nimble fingers found his belt buckle, and she quickly undid it and the button underneath. His shaft, long and thick, pressed against his zipper. She could feel the heat of it through the denim as if he were on fire. She pulled his zipper down, and his cock hit her stomach. A smear of liquid burned her as surely as an inferno. He groaned into her mouth, tilting his head until their teeth almost clashed together. But she didn’t mind. She needed this. They may have wanted a slow, easy burn just moments before, but now something had happened. She could feel her urgency to have him inside her mirrored in his kiss and in the grip of his fingers.
He wrapped his arms around her, one palm cradling her head as he kissed her, and she pushed his pants over his hips. She helped him as best she could to get his pants down as he kicked them off his body. And then he was free. She ran her hands over the broad expanse of his back, memorizing the dips and curves of his muscles, loving how they flexed and tightened as he moved. She found the slope of his buttocks and
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