ERO

Immoral

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There is something meticulously immoral in the way your golden eyes look at me, when desire begins to make its way through your body. It happens during that instant when an idea finds its place inside you, as your eyes shine before the light of your own yearning. There is also a certain immorality in the answer my own body gives before that first insinuation that, probably, you are just starting to understand. My skin burns, immorally, when your mouth nears my ear, and as your lips gently graze it, you say…

Shall we go?

Everything turns even more immoral in the moment your fingers are pressed against my waist, gently showing me the path you want me to take. The heat coming from your body, stuck to mine as we seek an intimate place, it's but further proof of the immorality of the act we are bound to do… yet the total loss of morality is found in our first kiss, your tongue invading my mouth in force, without foreplay.

Immoral is too, you say, the way I sigh your name as you seek my naked skin. InuYasha.

However, I think more immoral the way you use your fingers to spread the moist parts of my body, filling my thoughts with the idea of wrapping you inside me. Yes, just like this, in this cursed immoral way I feel you pushing yourself inside, clapping, grasping for any part that may hold your passion. Yes, it's exquisitely immoral to feel how your mouth sucks my nipple, blurring that line between pain and pleasure, as I exhale a plea you silence with the touch of your lips.

Give me more. You ask then, rising, looking at me as your hips sway, thrusting, and giving me the most immorally fascinating picture of you: there, sweating, agitated, and your body tensed by passion. It is then when I surround you, seeking a better angle through which you might reach with more precision, and deeper inside me, so that the vision is complete before me, the moral and the immoral melting together inside your gaze, its gold turning hot and warm, innocent and infernal, erotic and utterly sweet. It is then, when everything begins to spin, out of focus, that you pull me closer and shout my name until you have no strength left.

Kagome.

There is something solicitously amoral in the way your golden eyes look at me, once the desire has been sated, and your touch loses its lust, embracing me as I do so too, turning that caress into love. It's indecent, for "love" has been a word we haven't talked about, yet it stalks us as we both now ourselves immorally avid to fall prey to it.

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A/N

Here I bring you a bit more of ERO.

I hope you've liked it.

Kisses,

Anyara

This text is possible thanks to the translation of: Dezart