In the end I had to have her.
I could feel the frenzied energy pulsating between us. It manifested as her lips brushed mine, eager to meet but breathless wanting more.
Beneath me, the Israeli Woman squirmed, her piercing brown eyes half covered by her messy raven hair that had fallen forward.
Her lips were ruby red. Puffy. Wanting. Waiting for that kiss.
Her small breasts lifted upright, caught in a breath as she gulped for air.
Her darkened nipples, little nubs, hardened.
I could sense her wanting this just as much as I did, our bodies settling into our own rhythm, the music being our panting, her low moans. A symphony.
Nothing was more important than her. I was addicted to her breathless whispers, a Slave to her very existence.
I didn’t just slip into her, our bodies merged and became one. I understood her, as she understood me.
So when I rested within her, my cock filling her as much I could at full length, I knew then.
I knew I loved her and would do anything to protect her.
As she squirmed beneath me, writhing in seething agony at what probably was the sensation of my cock within her, an itch she couldn’t reach, she muttered something in her native language.
It came out soft and low, beauty deep to my foreign ear.
As I buried my head and breathed in the earthy scent of her dark hair, this I promised her: I would be with her. No matter what.