The candle light threw a warmth to his skin but not so warm as the glow cast by her love. Only a week in and she couldn’t get enough. His hypnotic blue eyes, full lips and that smile?
The man she dreamed of.
And tonight? Tonight, she would give herself to him. Completely.
He tilted his head, brows furrowed in askance of her silence.
“Sorry, I got lost. I… I just love your face.” She breathed the words, leaning in to kiss his lips.
He laughed with cold, rancid breath. “And I love how you think this face is mine.”★
S.A. Thurtle is writer, blogger and freelancer wordsmith. Native of the UK, an exciting series of life choices and random chance now sees him living in The Netherlands. There’s probably a book in that turn of events alone.
He’s working on three different novels spanning fantasy, sci-fi and… the other one. He will finish one at some point. Honest.
Until that glorious day, you can find blogs and short stories on his website here: https://sathurtle.com or keep up to date with his random musing on Twitter: https://twitter.com/sathurtle or Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sathurtle/ .
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